#like if you got over yourself you might enjoy the characters more idk

[madame-cookie]

gw2 fans losing another battle in the war of understanding a morally gray character

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hiii

so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad

Thank youuu ❤️

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it

MARRIAGE

Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky

Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything

Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.

Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.

Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.

Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);

Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.

He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.

With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.

You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.

Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.

Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.

You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.

Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.

But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.

It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.

He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.

“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."

His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”

Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."

His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.

PREGNANCY

Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable

Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)

Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;

"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom

He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.

"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."

His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"

"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.

He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.

"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.

He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.

"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.

His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.

His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.

"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.

He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.

"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss

Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;

His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.

But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.

He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."

You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."

He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."

"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.

"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."

"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"

His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."

His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."

"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"

Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace

Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;

"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.

"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"

He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin

"Father’s instincts," he whispered

"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.

Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;

"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"

Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."

He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious

"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."

You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."

He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.

"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled

You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."

"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"

His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."

Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"

The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.

"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"

clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.

"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"

But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.

Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give

Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)

Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;

"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him

"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch

"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."

your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much

"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.

PARENTHOOD

Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;

After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.

“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery

He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.

When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm

“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe

The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.

“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.

“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten

“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”

Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.

Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.

Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.

Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.

"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.

"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."

Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.

"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.

"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.

He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"See? Not so bad, huh?"

Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.

Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children

Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.

Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;

Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.

"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.

Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.

But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.

“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.

"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.

Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."

With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"

Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.

Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.

Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids

Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);

"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[aestrayla]

cherries or peaches? ft. obey me! brothers

summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! brothers x f!reader

cw: highly suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (darling, sweetheart), fondling, groping, MY HUMOUR..

word count: 1.5k

a/n: sorry for some of them being so short, it was actually kind of challenging trying to elaborate on the ideas rather than just plainly stating them out as they are, but i hope u still enjoy them just as much as i enjoyed writing them ^^ also, don't mind my shitty humour in the last two + i haven’t written for most of these characters before so they might sound off idk??

at first, it was hard to tell whether lucifer preferred ass or boobs.

he would always reply to you with a, "i prefer them both, equally," or a, "why should i choose when i can like them both?"

it drove you crazy because you clearly asked him to choose either one or the other. he was always dodging the question and at some point, you even got the brothers in on this, some bets were made too.

"it's obvious he likes ass more, have you seen the way he looks at y/n when they're wearing that skirt he bought for them?"

"nah he totally like boobs more, he can't keep his eyes off ‘em whenever they're wearin' a tight shirt!"

soon you started to take these signs into account, wearing much more revealing things to try and catch a reaction out of him, but to your demise, he never seemed to crack.

after weeks of bet-making and skin-revealing lucifer had finally had enough. the two of you were both lying in bed, facing one another while his arms were wrapped around your waist.

"y/n," he whispered.

"mhm?" you hummed in response.

"isn't it obvious i like these better?"

he pulled himself closer to you as his face buried against your chest. oh you thought. he had always found comfort sleeping against you like this, his head stuffed between your boobs while his arms wrapped around you tightly, that it became natural and you had almost forgot he did it.

"shit— you should've told me earlier! now we've all lost our bets to mammon!" you whined.

you could hear his muffled chuckles vibrate against your body as you wrapped your arms around his head, squeezing him closer.

mammon is 100% an ass-loving guy, no questions asked.

with mammon, no matter what you're doing, what you're wearing, where you are, or who you're with, he just loves touching you all the damn time.

whether you're walking through the halls of RAD to your next class or taking a stroll through the devildom while window shopping, he won't hesitate to sneak his hands up your skirt to feel your plump ass.

"mammon stop, we're in public!" you glare as you swat his hands away.

"’m sorry can't help it, just gotta have my hands all over ya!"

oh well, maybe next time he’d be lucky enough to sneak his hands further down your skirt and— who knows, you might just find yourself begging him for more.

and if it's just the two of you in your own company, you'll always find that his hands like to slip past the waistband of your panties just to lay onto your cheeks, rubbing and squeezing at the plump flesh. always smiling in delight as you squirm under his carnal touch.

as much as you like to complain, he always swears that "it's just comfortable!" or "my hands were just cold!"

there is no doubt in my mind that leviathan wouldn't be on team cherries.

he always lets you sit on his lap whenever he's grinding a video game or on an anime-watching marathon. a recent occurrence you've taken note of is that, almost as if it's a reflex, he'll always end up having a hand or two resting on your boobs, casually squeezing at it as if he owns the thing.

"you must be real comfortable there, levi." you teased, motioning to where his hand laid.

"huh— OH! um, I-I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he shot his hands up in defense. "it's just really soft… and warm... I'm sorry y/n." his face was bright red.

"it's fine, i was just teasing you, silly!"

there was also a time where you scolded levi for owning one of those mouse pads where ruri-chan’s the characters boobs would be squishy.

in desperate need to make it up to you, he custom ordered a version with you on it, only because he swears out of all his waifus, you're his absolute favourite.

it was a rainy night, and in the comfort of the library beside a crackling fireplace, you were messing around on your d.d.d while satan was next to you, reading what you assumed to be a mystery book.

"hey satan?" you put your d.d.d down for a moment, turning to look at him.

"hm?" he hummed, while keeping his eyes glued to the page.

"do you prefer ass or boobs?"

he pauses to look up at you and closes his book, placing it beside him, all while sighing.

"what does it look like i prefer?" he deadpans.

you break his eye contact as you look down to see his left hand buried under your sweater, which was fondling with your boob this entire time.

"so... boobs?"

he replies while picking his book up again, "yes darling, don't ask such foolish questions."

asmo loves boobs. your boobs to be specific.

don't blame him, your boobs are just so pretty and he loves pretty things.

the way they sit when you're wearing a low-cut garment, or the way they shine when you're having a bubble bath together. he loves it all.

as you know, asmo loves pampering you and surprises you with random gifts whenever he finds something that he'd love to see you in.

one night as he's doing your hair after a bath, he suddenly remembers something and stands to walk to his closet.

"the other day when i was shopping at majolish, i found this super pretty bra i thought you'd look just gorgeous in!" he approaches you with a box wrapped neatly with a ribbon.

as you open the box, you set your eyes on a beautiful red laced bra.

"are you sure i'd look good in this?"

"you look perfect in everything sweetheart, you know i’d never lie about that."

he's always buying you pretty things to wear, and trust me when i say, this definitely isn’t the first bra he's ever gotten you.

beel could not care less about choosing between your ass or boobs. they're both squishy and feel nice in his hands so it didn't really matter to him. well, not until today.

getting up from the edge of the bed and turning your heel to face him, you asked, "did you know a new cafe opened up in the devildom recently?"

"really? what food do they sell there?" he asked, his eyes looked as if there were stars in them.

"well apparently their cakes are a specialty, they're pretty popular for it."

"cake?" he drooled, "i love cake! hey we should go to the cafe right now, i'm starving." he sat up from the edge of the bed, drooling like a puppy dog.

little did he know, you decided to be a little jokester today.

"oh you're starving right now? then here," you turn around, bending over.

"what are you doing y/n?"

you turn your head back to look at his confused expression, "you said you were starving right? the cake's right here," you pointed to your ass.

he stares at you for a moment. then at your ass. then back at you again.

"so there's no cafe, is there?" he wipes his drool away with the back of his hand.

"nope. but there sure is cake," you smile cheekily while shuffling closer.

he sighs while grabbing ahold of your thighs, dragging you just inches away from his lips, "you're lucky i like this kind of cake too."

as long as he can sleep on them, belphie will like them no matter what. so when it comes to choosing between your ass or boobs, it can be a hard decision just to choose one.

belphie's "sleepability" criteria is: soft, warm and comfortable; and your boobs and ass were equal competition.

he sighs, "if i have to choose one over the other, i'd rather sleep on your ass all day" his reasoning being because your ass has more of an "even surface" compared to your boobs.

if you're ever just lounging around the house of lamentation, on your stomach specifically, within seconds you'll feel belphie's arms wrap around your legs while he lays his head onto you.

its crazy how instantly he falls asleep on you. he'd stay like that forever if you didn't have to get up to pee or because your legs fall numb.

"c'mon belphie, i needa pee so bad!" you squirm.

"mmmphh," he grumbles, half-asleep, while hugging onto your legs even tighter.

"hurry up or i'll fart on your face!" you threaten him jokingly.

"OKAY, OKAY!" he shoots up from his position and is scrambling to the edge of the bed. you laugh in response because it works every time.

"and i was having a good dream too!" he scowled, while rubbing his left eye from sleep.

looking for pt.2? you can find it here ♡

©2023 aestrayla. do not modify, copy, translate or share.

[eph3merall]

I really liked the concept of loser!reader x fratboy!chris, I need more plsss. PS: I love your writing so much!!

idk how i feel about this. hope u enjoy <3 havent specifically thought out their dynamic / character traits yet so this might be a lil iffy. thank u sm n i love u 🤍

notes. loser!reader has an oral fixation n ends up sucking chris' dick.

—

the two of you lay on chris' bed, the aroma of weed heavy and laying a thick blanket over the room. a candle is lit on his desk for some ounce of lighting and to mask the scent of smoke—a window cracked open as well. every small gust of wind is making the flame atop the candle flicker and wave, casting shadows across the space.

chris is sat up, back resting against his headboard with your head cradled gently in his lap. you're laying on the plush mattress slightly sideways to allow your head to fit onto his lap, a throw blanket draped over your body. your face is itchy and red from previous tears, letting the soothing palm of chris' hand rub over your shoulder and into your hair.

he's smoking a joint, feeling his chest lift up and down with each inhale and exhale. soft little sniffles sound from your nose, strands of hair sticking to your tear-stained cheeks. chris is taking a puff and watching the smoke filter out of his mouth, then offering you the joint.

slowly, you reach out to take it between your fingers—quick to inhale and then exhale the smoke in your lungs. chris reaches for the joint back quickly, however you hold it out of reach just to take a few more huffs. he's rolling his eyes and halting the comforting swipe of his palm across your shoulder.

that's when you give it back to him, whining out lowly in an effort to tell him to keep going. keep touching you. smoke filters out from between your lips as you watch it dissipate into the air. then, chris' hand resumes the path he was taking—rubbing over your shoulder and making it feel as if your skin started burning and tingling with every swipe of his palm over bare skin.

you had gotten into an argument with your parents, then when one of your friends asked what was wrong you had flipped out and yelled at them. you didn't mean to, truly. but it was all just so much and your head had been spinning, a migraine forming and tears burning behind your eyes. then, said friend just scoffed and pranced off to another one of her more popular friends, already starting to whisper and point—giggles reaching your ears and just making you more upset.

so you go and see chris. he wasn't exactly happy to have you knocking on his door like a kicked puppy. he was rolling some pre's for some buyers later that night, maybe heading off to a party at some frat house to see if he can make some extra cash as well.

so when you're running into chris' arms and clutching at his sides like some little kid, he's quick to shove you off and back up to eye you up and down. muttering something about 'what the fuck' and 'fuck is wrong with you?' when you sniffle and the heel of your palm comes up to wipe at the tears now clinging to your lashes and dripping down your rosy cheeks.

and soon enough, you find yourself all tired out and laying your head on chris' lap as you two pass a joint back and forth. it took a little convincing for him to let you stay, but you're forever glad he agreed. you don't exactly have anyone else to go to right now.

chris is suddenly tugging you up so you're sitting in his lap, setting the joint into the ashtray on his bedside little table. he's unscrewing the cap on a plastic water bottle that's already about 2/3 of the way empty, lifting it to your lips. "drink, c'mon. prolly exhausted y'rself n' got your mouth all dry after all that cryin'.. pathetic," the last word is mumbled under his breath and you barely pick it up. you grasp the water bottle, the plastic crinkling under your palms as you take a few sips.

"i'm fine, chris," you huff and shove the drink away from you once chris isn't shoving it in your face to take a sip from it. he's rolling his eyes and placing the bottle back onto his bedside table—only to pick up the joint and take a huff. surprisingly gentle hands are guiding you back down to rest yiur head on his lap—which is what you assumed—but he's positioning your head in front of his crotch.

chris says nothing, only shifts his sweatpants down until his dick is free, already slightly hard as you gaze at him in that way that makes him hate you. all puppy-eyed, staring at him like he's some god to you. sometimes it just pisses chris off so goddamn much. he couldnt tell you why when asked.

hes humming lowly when he sees you ease the tip of his dick into your mouth and suckle on it all gently. he's realized you might have some sort of oral fixation—always wanting to suck on his dick or his fingers or something. so he lets you. not always, sometimes it gets annoying and chris just rams all of it down your throat.

but he's kind of high right now, hand tangling into your hair and stroking the back of your head gently. "mhm, s'what y'needed right?" you're moaning softly around the length of him, shifting your body so you can bob your head up and down gently. lifting off him to mouth at the side of his cock, getting it all slick from your saliva and mewling all soft and in a way chris finds fucking pathetic.

"s'aight, baby. y'got me.. don't worry 'bout 'em."

—

take the ending however u want—had half a mind to make him more nice/more mean but i settled on this version. (for this au.. chris isnt normally this nice. he's literally trash talking reader to her own face sometimes bc hes pissed.) it is soo late sorry for any spelling mistakes / blah blah blah im supes tired </3

tags ! (if u want me to remove u / add u js let me know <3) @conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k

—

©eph3merall 2024

[defectivefanboy]

Hi darling! How are you? How have you been? Sorry for bothering, I wanted to request! You really write very well and keep up with the good work! So anyways.. Can I request smut for Alastor, Lucifer & Crimson reacting to their girlfriend wear a lingerie?

Thank you so much! Have a lovely day/night!!

　　　∧_∧::

(´･ω･`)::

/⌒ ⌒)::

/へ_＿ / /::

(＿＼＼ ﾐ)/::

｜ `-イ::

/ )::

/／ ／::

／ ／::

( く:::

|＼ ヽ:::

Imma go ahead and ignore that icky word that's in there and make it S/O because I want to write Alastor. Here is my request page for anyone who wants to in the future. Please take a read before you come into my inbox :D

Can I request smut for Alastor, Lucifer & Crimson reacting to their [REDACTED] wearing lingerie?

Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and while I don't mind female readers on my blog/interacting, love my girlies, hey girlies~, but I do not write female reader, and if you are a fetishizer. fuck off??? ew. How would you even do that on an x reader???

C/W: NSFW topics, Each character will have their own respective warnings, Sexual content, duh, no pronouns used, Bottom! reader favored, Established relationships. OOC?, I mean this would never happen, so yeah ooc

Notes: the giggle I had to stop when I got to Alastor good god, but Lucifer was honestly the funniest and most enjoyable to write. I had a smile on my face the whole time

Crimson ♧︎...

C/W: Slight Voyeurism (mention of his right hand man Alessio), Degradation, he def has a sir kink, don't lie to me, mention of stealing/sugarbaby (hes an asshole) mention of stalkers? admirers?? idk he just mentions people leaving you gifts,

For being an old (mafia) man. He's not opposed to a little dress up

Only if its you though. He would NEVER

He would be into something with a little more class.

Never will his darling look like some 2 cent floozy

So none of that crotchless bull honky. While he wouldn't be mad at it, he would rather leave more to the imagination. Something to work for, y'know?

And he would certainly work for it.

You really wanna get him going? Accentuate your hips. That's something him and Moxxie can agree. They like their darling with a little bit of width~

If you are gonna wear something for him, you best put on a show while you're at it.

He waits to do business after dinner, so why not let him enjoy his meal

For an asshole he has some manners now

Always making you cum once or twice before even taking your outfit off.

It likes to wait before unwrapping his gift <3

But once he gets more accustom to your interest

He's definitely going to be the one buying you the set

well its his money that's being used, Al is the one who goes and picked them up. Poor baby...

"You're so needy, baby. But did you need to go and make yourself out to be a whore in the middle of a meeting?" Crimson said as he placed a hand on your waist. His desk might not be the most comfortable place, but it will do for now. It's not like he can ignore you when you got all dolled up for him.

"I don't remember buying this one. Alessio leaving you gifts now too?" His fingers slid under the thin fabric as you let out a soft whine before answering, "I got them,.. custom made, sir." you said, trying to steady your breathing as his hands wandered between your legs. You let out a yelp as he spreads your legs out more for himself.

"And where are you getting this money from, huh? Hope you're not stealing it from me, brat." He gives you a soft glare and a questioning look as his eyes scan over the fabric that covered you, before his spotted the embroidered 'C. Knolastname' on the front of the waist band. With his index finger and thumb, he hooked them around the band and traced the deigned. Crimson gives you a smirk and placed a kiss right under your belly button before moving down.

"Hmm... maybe i do have a use for that ring then after all, but i should repay this favor before hand. Right, (Y/n) Knolastname?"

Lucifer 𓅰...

C/W: light choking, another one with a superiority kink, mentions of god (he calls himself it), size kink for the fact I thought this man was like 5'8-10 come to look up his like 6'2-3, slight crack fic (because he wouldn't take anything seriously until truly needed, he giggles when you change in front of him, it's always a crack fic with him)

HE HAS A MATCHING SET!!

god how my perception of these characters have been warped

but he has most definitely bought you outfits before, probably the only one to go out of his way to get matching ones.

Even got a few custom ones made, you can always tell by the little duck embroidered somewhere on them.

He's game for anything you wanna wear. He isn't gonna stop you, if anything he's gonna encourage you to wear more.

He's helpless for you in such a pretty outfit and it's all for him?

He feels loved and he's sure to pay that back ten fold in the bedroom.

You might not allowed to be in heaven, but he can show you what it was like~

I maaay..be a bit delusional, but in private I feel like he's all giggly and shit.

Oh an he definitely was the first time you pulled this from your hat of tricks.

Almost a little to giggly i'd sat, to think the ruler of hell would be this flustered over an article of clothing is beyond me

But once he starts to become use to it. He starts to expect it. What? He is the king of Hell after all.

And he truly expects to be treated like one. (He's a brat when he doesn't get attention)

Be it sinner, hell-born, or even the 'perfect OC/that everyone loves who is half angel half devil/stronger then god/etc' he's gonna ask you one thing constantly...

"Please, my angel of death? Just one time, for me? Then i'll never ask again. Promise."

"I'm not wearing a duck tail while you fuck me. When- Where in hell did you even get these made?" you asked as you held up the pair of yellow lingerie with a duck tail sown on the back of the waist band.

"You shouldn't need to worry about that, my love. All you need to worry about is wearing them for me." He said with a light sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, a soft smile resting on his face.

"Again, I am not. fucking. wearing. them, you prick-!" As soon as you got the name out you felt yourself against the wall. The soft smile gone from Lucifer's face as a dark look pooled in his eyes, an unsettling stare never leaving yours. Before you could apologize, his hand wrapped around throat, his index finger pushed your face up to his as he spoke with a low voice.

Almost like that cheery devil was just a front...

"Oh, how far from grace you have fallen, my dear. Seems you already forgotten your god. But that's no trouble at all, for tonight..." His grip on your neck got tighter as he got closer to your ear and a sinister smile made itself at home upon his pale face. Y'know, you really only notice how big he is when he gets like this... oh that wasn't a complaint. Not when his presence alone encaged you against the wall, let alone the possessive grip that he had on you.

"I'll teach you how to praise my name once again."

Alastor 𐂂...

C/W: Teasing, sadly abo mention, WHY ARE YOU BOOING ME I AM RIGHT, blood mentions, possessive behaviors, light choking, mentions of cannabalism, duh, playing more into the abo, uhm, sniffing? idfk leave me alone its late. oh ft: a guest at the end.

Another man with class, just not as much. I mean, come on, he's still a sinner~

though when you present yourself to him in your outfit, he can't help, but raise a brow as he tried to keep down his smile at the sight.

Definitely a big tease, a BIG tease

Especially when you look so cute for him, squirming under his indifferent gaze. Oh how he wants to squeeze your cheeks and leave you begging for release~

He's also one for a game of cat and mouse.

so when you go out into town with him make sure to slip his favorite pair of lingerie under your clothes

And if you're one wear revealing clothes, then I hope you're ready for a possessive (and bloody) overlord, ad pray for anyone who thinks they can touch you, let alone come near you.

oh AND OHHHH wanna know how you really got him? How you really got to him??? When the static cuts out and that Louisiana drawl' comes out of him. (I would die. again.)

(If I say he has a rut would that be considered A/b/o? I mean he is a deer demon, same with other demons in a similar case)

but WHOOO WEE

for someone who normally has a distaste for touch that isn't initiated by him, He'll enjoy a night or two (on the rare occasion) where he lets you indulge yourself

though, do be careful now, he's a gentleman up and foremost, but he's not always a patient man at that. He's always willing to return the favor tenfold~

And if you already couldn't tell, he loves the color red, basically lives in it. So it's safe to it sets something off in him

be the cannibal in him, or maybe he just likes the color a little too much

but at the end of it you'll more marked up then a rough draft <3

"Bless your heart, Dear. Did you think I wouldn't notice... your little getup? His clawed fingers trailed your sides as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. His frame trapping you in your seat and god, would it be terrifying for any mere sinner in this position, if it wasn't for the playful twitch of his ear that told you otherwise. Someone was enjoying this more then he let on...

It wasn't the first time you had teased him in public, but it was the first time people really had the courage to come talk to you. To give the poor souls benefit of the doubt, you were just sat at the bar talking to husk. Though, you would also think the red pinstripe outfit and microphone that rested at your side gave itself away.

"And it seems i'm not the only one. Now, if I were to kill everyone in this god forsaken hotel. Whose fault would that be, hm?" A clawed hand made it's way around your throat as it softly pulled you back, letting him have full access to your neck. Burying his face in your neck, he took in a deep breathe as static radiated off him.

"Or maybe I should have you for a meal tonight. You do smell quite... appetizing, my darling. Such a shame I have to ruin that pretty little outfit of yours." Before you could even gasp a grumbling and angry voice rang out, bringing you both back into reality.

"Can you two not fuck at my bar please? You are just as bad as that damn spider."

"Oh of course Husker! We'll get out of your fur right now actually! Wasn't like these pathetic things were going to get a taste of you anyways."

[koolades-world]

Can you do headcanons with all the characters of an MC that has scars on their body from maybe a car crash years ago and how they would react to seeing them? Can you also do an MC who’s really insecure about them and tries to hide them?

Please and thank you 🙏🙏🙏🙏

hello! sure thing :)

idk why this one got so long? slight angst warning for belphie's (lesson 16 reference) actually might write belphie's as a drabble! if y'all are interested in seeing the others as drabbles too, let me know!

enjoy <3

Mc who's insecure about scars from a car crash

Lucifer

he didn't think much of it, since he too prefers clothing that covers basically everything, even down to gloves however, the attention to detail came down to how you behaved and the way in which you vehemently avoided any situation in which you'd have to change into something you hadn't selected or needed to wear something more revealing

one late night, you ran into each other in the kitchen, and while he expected it to be beel, raiding the fridge again but he found you crying on the floor

of course, he asked what was wrong, and while at first you didn't say anything, he stayed by your side. when the tears had slowed down and you could speak again, you told him it was the anniversary of the devastating car crash and you confessed how much it took from you

that was the first time lucifer had ever hugged you, and for once, you felt at home in the devildom. for the years to come, he makes sure to spend that entire day with you to make you feel loved

Mammon

he's the first to see them and learn of their existence because of how quickly the two of you grow close. you had many movies nights together where you ended up asleep on his shoulder and he caught glances of the scars

he never asked, but he was forever curious. he wanted to wait for you to tell the story rather than intrude on your privacy, even if that meant he never learnt

eventually after you deliberated with yourself, during one of those movie nights, you turned to him and told him everything after mentally debating

you could tell you'd help satiate his curiosity, but of course he was very sweet about it. he starts coming home with things he knows will make you feel gorgeous and expects nothing in return

Levi

the two of you spend a lot of time gaming, reading, and watching anime together. your favorite characters are said to be a reflection of you, and he noticed that pattern after enough time

now, he wasn't quite sure what to do with that information, how he would even start to go about addressing that, or if it was just him and he was looking into it too much. maybe you just had a certain type you enjoyed, although part of him hoped it wasn't that, because that would mean your type wasn't him

nevertheless, he kept this information to himself and dwelled on it until one night, you brought that very topic up yourself. at first you hesitated, but once he told you to think of it as your "lore" you became more comfortable with the situation and told him

he wasn't quite sure what to say, but offered you comfort. you spent the rest of the night watching your favorite anime and from then on, you got to see this more gentle, loving side of him more often. maybe one day, he'd tell you about his "lore" in depth too

Satan

he felt like the entire situation was something right out of a romance novel, where the two main characters slowly grow closer like the two of you were, and the exchanging of backstory that inevitable happens at some point

but, he didn't expect yours to include something so devastating in nature and how it affected your life in the aftermath. he's amazed at the way you have been healing yourself over the followings years. he admires your strength, and he knows that the scars and accident don't define you

you spent most of your evenings together, either at an outing or just at home together. it was one of these evening sessions by the fireplace together in the living room where the two of you were cuddling, and he noticed them on your shoulders. of course he didn't mention it, but you noticed him looking

since there was nobody else around, you decided to tell him since you would've at some point eventually. he doesn't make a big deal out of it because you didn't, but he lets you know if you ever need someone to talk to, he would be there

Asmo

he noticed that your entire wardrobe, including sleepwear and formalwear was all long sleeve and basically covered you head to toe

to try and get closer to you, he took you shopping and still saw you only picked out things that fit into your current wardrobe despite seriously eyeing several other pieces of clothing that were short sleeved. you didn't get them, but he could tell you wanted them, so as a surprise, he bought all of the items for you and presented it as a gift

through your tears, you thanked him and decided to tell him why you didn't get them. he apologizes profusely, but you tell him it was alright and that one day, you'd wear them

once you're finally closer, you wear one of the short sleeved pajama sets to a sleepover with just him, and he can feel his heart swell with the amount of trust you'd put in his hands. expect to be pampered <333

Beel

while he's not the first to see them, he was the first to catch on to their existence. he's very good with reading your emotions and could easily tell when you were uncomfortable. every time, he saved you from the situation but he was afraid of how you might feel when he wasn't around

the two of you had just gotten done with a jog that ended in a park, where the two of you sat in the grass to relax before headed home. while there, your conversation got rather deep and you ended up discussing thing you never thought might slip out

the manner in which you told him was detached and while you mentioned it in passing, beel was insistent you go back to that topic. he held you close, despite the fact that you were both sweaty and gross, because the thing that mattered most to him was how you felt

of course he wouldn't pry, and he didn't, but he will guard your secret with his life now. anytime you need him or just want to talk, or need a hug, he's there unconditionally

Belphie

when you initially met, when he was imprisoned in the attic and you thought he was human like he claimed he was, whenever you'd chat he could tell there was something you were holding back

he asked upfront what the matter was, not realizing he'd strike such a nerve. you took it not how he expected you to and you stormed off, upset. he was concerned he'd jeopardized his plan but there wasn't anything he could do about it now

later that night you returned, you had cooled off and apologized, and told him why you had been so disturbed by his comment. you showed him the few on your upper back and neck, and told your story. he almost felt bad about what he'd done

when he held you aloft by your neck, that same part of him that felt guilty chimed in again and made him remembered the scars you'd shown him and the kinship you thought you shared together, when you thought he was a human. it was a shame not all of him felt sorry for you

[devildom-moss]

LOVE your works !!!!!! i adore how everytime u write, it just kind of turns into a very subtle character study (at least that's what i'm getting) it's vvv nice and the kind of writing im into <33

it's gmt for me so idk if i'm way past the cut off and this might be an odd request btw but a reader refusing lucifer and belphie's offer of a pact after yk... everything lol. it's up to u if the reader eventually accepts but i want it to hurt 🤌🏻

Thank you so much, that's so sweet. I hope you will see your request since I'm taking so long, and I hope you like it. I hope its got enough angst and hurt. I think they have two different types of hurt in it. Lucifer's has more of his pain and Belphie's has more of the reader's pain.

Rejecting their pact offers

(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC)

(Slightly suggestive for Belphegor) (angst) (hurt; pain; implied physical and emotion harm to reader; slight yandere!Belphegor; Belphie is really creepy in this with some non-consent elements regarding touching/kissing)

Word Count: +2,000

Lucifer

You dreaded spending time alone with Lucifer, so you were displeased to receive a message from him – and even more unhappy that it had arrived, coincidentally, just as you had finished your assignment, when you were looking forward to being able to unwind. Your hopeful plans were crushed by an arrogant invite:

Lucifer: Meet me in my study once you’re free. Alone. Don’t keep me waiting.

Your first instinct was to pretend that you were busy all night and didn’t have time for whatever he wanted, but you knew you wouldn’t enjoy your night if you were constantly on guard and worried about your leisure being interrupted. You could pretend you didn’t read it – after all, you turned your read receipts off specifically because of Lucifer. You could wash up and head straight to bed, sacrificing your free time for the sake of avoiding Lucifer. But avoiding him would only result in his nagging the following morning, and he had already ruined your night, so you might as well safeguard your morning peace by appeasing him. Hopefully whatever he wanted would be quick and painless. With a sigh, you reluctantly dragged yourself in the direction of his study.

You knocked at the door despite it being open ajar.

“MC, please enter,” Lucifer spoke up. He knew it was you; his brothers never knocked. You heard the shuffling of paper and the creaking of his desk chair as you opened the door fully. “You’re slightly earlier than I expected. I’m glad to know that your studies are not giving you any trouble – or at least, I suspect that’s why you’re here so soon.”

“Yeah,” you answered him shortly. He seemed flustered by your presence – which would be entertaining outside of the current situation. You stood in the doorway, watching Lucifer collect his papers and tidy his workspace before walking over. His looming figure inched closer, but you stood your ground. “Did you need something from me, Lucifer?”

“Right. Please take a seat. Can I pour you a glass of Demonus? I’ve acquired a new bottle from Diavolo, and I’ve been looking forward to trying it. I’d like to open it with you.” Lucifer walked over to his bar; pulled a bottle from the very back of the top shelf, hidden behind a taxidermy raven; and grabbed two clean glasses.

“No thank you. I’m fine.”

“Oh.” The sound left him so quietly, you weren’t certain he had intended for you to hear it. He put one of the glasses back, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and poured himself a drink. “Suit yourself.”

“Was that all?” Your eyes wandered the room. You hadn’t been in here for a while, and the last time was not particularly ideal.

“Of course not!” Lucifer looked away indignantly. “I wouldn’t call you to my study just for a drink. I have something important to discuss.”

“Alright.”

Lucifer took a sip of his drink before speaking again; his subtle delays – the slow draining of your time and patience – annoyed you. “You’ve impressed me over the last few months, and you’ve managed to make pacts with each of my brothers. I believe you’ve proven yourself worthy of a pact with me. That is, so long as we make one thing clear: if we form a pact, I own you. I don’t care who else you’re entangled with, you’ll be mine.”

“No. I’m good.” You shook your head to accentuate your response.

“What?” Every muscle in Lucifer’s body tightened, and the glass in his hand formed a superficial crack. His eyes widened. Shock and anger fed off each other as Lucifer sat there speechless.

“I don’t trust you,” you admitted. Somehow, you were thrilled to finally have the opportunity to tell Lucifer how you truly felt.

“After everything we’ve been through together?” Lucifer scoffed. He thought he had proven himself to you. He’d come so far since the last time he had tried to hurt you. He thought you were both past this – that you meant more to each other by now.

“No, Lucifer, after everything you did to me.” You sat up from the chair, rage rising with you. You had done nothing but try to help him and his family, and he had done nothing but hurt you. Even when he had saved you, it was usually for his own selfish reasons. By the time he had developed this strange infatuation with you, you had no trust left to give him. You had no foreseeable interest in furthering a relationship with him – especially not after the pompous way he asked you.

“MC, please, be reasonable. You know very well why I reacted the way I did at the time. You’re a part of my family now,” Lucifer pleaded with you desperately, trying to show you his version of reason. He grabbed your wrist and clung to you tightly, afraid to let you leave. “I won’t hurt you like that again. I promise. I adore you much too much.”

“Lucifer,” you half-sighed, half-winced, “let go. You’re hurting me right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer apologized. He quickly let go of you and brought his hand back to his chest, wide-eyed and terrified. “Please. . . I’ve never offered this to a human before.”

You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, it trembled on his vocal cords and shook his breath. It was his last resort to persuade you: to show you that he had never been this vulnerable, and he didn’t know how to handle your rejection. You knew he needed you to accept his offer – or at least consider it. Anything except rejection would be survivable.

“Please?” Lucifer begged softly; his cheeks flushed with shame.

“Just because I’m your first and you might have changed, it doesn’t mean I have to accept your offer.”

Belphegor

You could have sworn that you had locked your door before heading to bed last night – and no one could blame you for still feeling a bit cautious after the events that occurred a few weeks ago. Yet, you were disturbed by the creaking of your bedroom door – if it hadn’t been unlocked before, it certainly was now. The soft shuffle of exhausted demon feet creeped towards your bed. You gulped and inched closer to the wall, hoping your eyes would adjust, and you would see Mammon. Maybe he had a nightmare. Or maybe it was Asmo, and he was lonely. Maybe Beel got lost on his way back from the kitchen – and hopefully not on his way towards the kitchen.

“Sleepy,” a soft voice muttered, and your hope plummeted. Fear spiked, prickling up your spine as you felt Belphegor crawl into bed next to you. His hands pat the bed gently, searching for your body, feeling for your warmth. He whined, “MC, hold me.”

“Sleep in your own bed, please.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice trembled at the last word. Maybe it was fear, but maybe your own lips could hardly stomach the thought of begging a demon like Belphegor to let you sleep in peace. After everything he did, why did he think he had the right to break into your room in the middle of the night and crawl into your bed?

“Too far now, and I want to sleep with you.”

Against your will, Belphie wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, resting his head on your shoulder. He nuzzled into you, taking in your scent with a deep, calm inhale. A gentle hum left him.

It was infuriating, the way he relaxed against you while your body tensed with an overflow of negative emotions: anger, annoyance, anxiety. It wasn’t fair that he could drift peacefully to sleep, clinging to you, after everything he did. You wished he would stop – that he would let you go and return to his room, shutting the door on his way out. You’d make sure it was locked this time; you’d double check it and put a curse on it if you had to.

“I was thinking,” Belphegor hummed mindlessly without even opening his eyes. He practically sounded happy. “We should make a pact.”

Your blood boiled, and you stared at his restful form in the dark. “No, Belphegor. I don’t want a pact with you.”

“Why not?” he started, eyes shooting open to stare at you in disbelief for a brief moment before he remembered. He lowered his eyes and attempted to bury his face against your arm. “Don’t answer that.”

“You know why.” There was spite in your words – so bitter that Belphegor couldn’t ignore it even if he wanted to.

Suddenly he felt he had to do something, and before you could understand what was happening, Belphie had tackled you, pinning your hands down at your sides and straddling your lap. The dim glow of his amethyst eyes soaked up all the light in the room when he stared down at you. His grip on your hands wasn’t tight, but a familiar fear clawed at your throat, cutting back your desire to protest.

“Hush. Relax. I’m not a threat anymore. I love you. I want you. For fuck’s sake, if I was going to hurt you again, I would have done it already, so please, please don’t be scared. I need you. Come on, accept a pact with me, please?” The light from his eyes disappeared from your sight as he dipped down. You felt him kiss up your neck lazily, his warm breath tickling your skin. From anyone else, this might have felt loving and affectionate, but from Belphegor, it seemed cruel – as if he was kissing where his hands might have bruised like some panacea that came too late. “Please? Don’t make me keep begging.”

“Get off!” Your voice came back to you in a frightened yelp, still hushed in the dark of night. You struggled and writhed beneath him. The panic was setting in.

“You’re scared?” Belphie questioned, almost surprised by his effect on you. He pulled back to meet your eyes, but you had them shut tight. “Hey, look at me. I told you I loved you. Don’t be scared.”

“Let me go, Belphegor.” You lifted your arms slightly, only for him to force them back down.

“Form a pact with me,” he insisted. He kissed just above your collarbone, allowing his lips to linger on your skin. “If we had a pact, you could control me. I can feel your pulse pounding; I know you’re scared, but if we make a pact, you’ll never have to be afraid of me again.”

“I’ll scream, Belphegor. I swear,” you warned.

“Shh,” Belphegor let go of one of your hands to cover your mouth. He held your gaze with a delusional sweetness. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes, praying for someone to barge into your room and end this. Belphegor cooed, “I promise I won’t ever hurt you again. I know that will take time to prove, but I need you now. I need that connection to you. I crave it, and I can’t let my brothers be the only ones to stake their claim on you. And until you want me and trust me, a pact will give you reassurance. You’ll never have to worry about being alone with me. If I act out, I’ll be under your spell – in more ways than one. I just want to keep you safe. Can’t you understand that? Make me yours.”

You knew he had a point about control, but it didn’t make you want him. Still, when he removed his hand from your mouth, the fear and anxiety that remained spoke for you. “. . . Fine.”

“Yay.” Belphie giggled and kissed you sleepily, caressing along your cheek and neck. He hummed and stared down at you, trapped beneath him. With your eyes finally more accustomed to the darkness, you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks as he bit his lower lip. “You know, I’m not so tired anymore. Let’s stay up all night and make the pact more official. I’ll even let you mark me.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoonkook x Reader

Touch-Starved [Main Story]

Yoongi has a crush on you, but is convinced you're not interested in him. You have a crush on Yoongi, but are sure that he'd never like you if he knew your secret. Jungkook has a crush on you but won't admit it to anyone, and you have a crush on Jungkook, but you think you know that he'd never see you as a possible partner, because he knows your secret. It's all just such a mess. How could you ever sort this out?

Tags/Warnings: Wolf!Bangtan, Wolf!Jungkook, Wolf!Yoongi, Dog!Reader, Puppy!Reader, DDLG aspects and themes, no judgement allowed here, non-sexual regression!!!, none of those themes are sexualized in this work, hurt and comfort, major fluff but also lots of angst and insecurity, friends to lovers

Length: idk long didn't count

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Yoongi is not good at things like affection, or relationships at that.

He easily turns red as bright as a spanked ass whenever he has to try and compliment someone he's even just remotely romantically interested in, or he will otherwise simply not find the courage to do it at all. Backhanded compliments are a regular thing with him, his character not allowing him to show someone he cares without implying that he doesn't- a trait that he hates about himself.

He'd learned it from his father, making him even more upset since he never really got along well with that man in the first place. Yet the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like his family history will just repeat itself, and he will find himself in a marriage simply created because of convenience, not love.

He cringes at that, throwing the rest of his sandwich away. His appetite has been long gone anyways.

The reason of his foul mood is in the dorm currently, sitting comfortably on the couch playfully wrestling with Jungkook over a pack of chips he can't identify from his spot.

He hates Jungkook sometimes.

He's always pictured as a shy boy, yet he's actually the exact opposite - easily likable, charming, and most of all- he's your age. The maknae and you are merely half a year apart in age, and he can see why you get along with him. He is a nice person, with his bright smile and large eyes, talented, strong, and likes video games as much as you do.

Yoongi himself does play some games to a small extend, however, he rather buries himself in his work, losing sense of time whenever music is involved.

Overly confident is not how he would describe you- you are simply uncaring of trends of the masses. You don't crave to stand out like Taehyung does, you rather enjoy simply living for yourself and what makes you happy no matter what people would think of your 'goals'. You love stuffed animals and soft colorful things no matter how childish it might make you look. You rarely take selfies of yourself, and never really pose much in images- you just smile, simple as that.

God that smile. If there is an emotion for hate and love at the same time, he is constantly feeling it when it comes to you.

Yoongi wants to be close to you as well, maybe even the closest if he is honest, yet he doesn't know how the hell he is supposed to do that. You both rarely text- he is too unsure if he can, since he is only in a groupchat with you, and only got your ID from Hoseok, who gave it to him in case Yoongi needs to text you something important. You rarely visit him in his studio, but then again, he never told you you'd be welcome anytime. Every small thing he does for you he either brushes it off as nothing speci¹al, or sometimes even tells you that he didn't do it, but one of his members, claiming that he has no Idea what you are talking about. You also show absolutely no interest in him whatsoever.

Which makes his embarrassing crush on you all the more awkward.

He's Min Yoongi for god's sake! He could have anyone if he really tried, if just for his fame and wealth and status as a full blooded Wolf-Hybrid coming from a 'clean' bloodline- yet he is stuck with you, the tiny dog hybrid who sees him as a friend only- if even that at all.

"Yoongi! Finally leaving your wife in there to join us in being social for once?" Seokjin remarks with his signature laugh following, making you chuckle as well.

"Don't be mean Jin." You softly scold the oldest. "Yoongs works hard in there." You look over your shoulder, one of your floppy ears unfolding while you smile that goddamn smile at him- not huge, not a smirk, simply a nice friendly gesture towards him, curled tail wagging a little.

The nickname doesn't make it better.

He hates nicknames, however, he could definitely keep living with your cute versions of his first name any day of the week. He wants to answer you, give you a verbal response, yet all he can bring himself to do is a shrug of his shoulders.

What the fuck.

But you only playfully hold your heart, falling into Jungkooks lap with a dramatic sigh. "Ah, always so cold-!" Which makes the guys laugh, and himself involuntarily smile to himself. He sits down, managing to actually place his ass next to you on the couch without instantly retreating for once. You bravely put your legs over his lap, and his mind is beginning to form the same amount of error messages like his PC system the last time he spilled his iced americano over his MIDI-board.

Yet he only grunts on the outside, and takes his phone out to search for something.

You chuckle, mumbling a sorry under your breath and move to slide your legs off of him again, but his unused hand stops them, shifting them back. His fingers are touching the small patch of bare skin on your calf between your leggings and fluffy sock that had slid down a little- and he has to use all of his self-control not to burst into flames.

He's never really had any very close contact with you, and always imagined what your skin may feel like- as creepy as that sounds. The smile he can see you forming from the side of his view makes him relax, as well- the first sign spotted that he might have some sort of effect on you. Taehyung makes a noise, but is silenced by namjoon who pulls him into a conversation to avoid embarrassing the producer, well aware of his own personal dilemma with you. He is the only one who really knows of his feelings towards you- having told yoongi that you actually feel the same way, yet a bit different. You are, according to namjoon, scared to overstep boundaries with Yoongi, worried that he may snap at you like he did a few months back.

There's that certain feeling whenever you do something stupid and then want to apologize, but you miss the chance and now weeks after it's just awkward, so you don't mention it, while also having to deal with the consequences daily.

Yeah. He still thinks of that moment he'd yelled at you sometimes at the most random of times, cringing internally at it. He'd been stressed with the new Album he wanted to put out, having been stuck on one song, and you had just turned up at the wrong time. You didn't cry or anything like that, you simply apologized for opening his studio without knocking, and left with your tail tucked between your legs. Since then however you'd become a bit more distant with him, more careful, and less touchy than you were with the rest of the pack.

He knows you're a sucker for skinship and cuddling, especially as a dog hybrid who's grown up in a carecenter between many other hybrids, yet you also respect if someone wants space. He loves how much attention you pay to your surroundings, eyes always wide open- you remember things for a long time, and you are able to keep track of so many things at once- yet he's also seen your apartment, a glimpse of your more raw personal side that you tend to keep close to yourself. You're a chaotic person, and he doesn't know how you find anything on that desk of yours.

You struggle to keep track of chores and your own health sometimes, yet you try hard, he knows that. And that makes him feel such an extreme need to make sure you're always happy and taken care of, that he's the one to take care of you.

"Oh, YOONGI!" You suddenly gasp at him, and he raises his eyebrows, looking at you as you move around a bit, your hands searching in your sweater pocket for something. "I actually cleaned up my apartment yesterday, and I found this. I think I borrowed it sometime ago, but lost it- sorry for that again by the way, won't happen again I promise!" You say, showing him a black and silver USB stick, your curly tail wagging in excitement.

You're right, that is his. He actually had forgotten about it.

"Took you long enough." He simply says and takes it from you to put it in his own pocket, seconds later cringing at his sentence. He could've definitely phrased that better, or maybe even simply thank you for giving it back even after all this time. Yet the timeframe of saying thank you without making it seem weird or out of place is already overstepped now, so he has to suffer.

Jungkook chimes in instead.

"I helped her get some order back into that place. Poor puppy had been so stressed with work that she couldnt keep up anymore." He says, laughing along with you, and Yoongi lets a chuckle of his own slip. But instead of telling you what a good job you did, or any praise he really wants to tell you, he only pats your leg gently two times, running his thumb over your calf for a second, internally imprinting into his mind how soft your skin is.

You however beam at this, visibly feeding off of his small gesture like a touch starved pet- and he can't help but find it cute.

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A knock on his door makes him look at it, giving a verbal response in a low "Hm?", as he hears your voice from behind it.

You're not really saying anything, just a sound of confusion and discomfort escaping you from behind the door, and he can slowly hear your slippers softly moving away, when he gets up from his chair to open his door to see you stop to look at him. You're standing in front of him with wide eyes and lowered ears, one of them being pulled on by your hand as he can hear the rest of the pack laughing in the main living room of the dorm. He chuckles at that, waving you into his studio, making him and yourself smile. You thank him somewhat quietly, and go to sit down on his small couch he has inside his studio, laying down so your feet still touched the ground as to not overstep any unspoken rules he might have.

Yoongi however walks up to you, and puts your feet up for you, grabbing a spare blanket from besides the couch, something he always kept here since he sleeps in his studio quite often. You thank him quietly for that, the soft buzzing of his studio PC and the nice air conditioning already helping your fuzzy head a lot.

Jumping over your shadow and coming here was a good idea after all, it seems like.

Yoongi sympathizes with you when it comes to headaches- and it's clear from your behavior that you probably have one, which could also explain why you don't really talk, since it probably hurts. Due to the fact that he seems to solely survive off of caffeine and a cup of instant ramen smashed in between his busy schedule, he gets them more often than he would like to admit. Yet he also remembers how you'd told him once how easily your headaches evolved into migraines if you weren't careful, so he is mindful to help you in avoiding that this time. He digs around in his mind for any small excuse to talk to you, yet ultimately decides against it, thinking it would probably be better for you to have as much silence as possible.

He wonders what your secret is.

Namjoon had mentioned something you kept secret 'for a reason', but he wouldn't tell the producer what it could be, not even a hint. You hopefully know that nothing could ever really make Yoongi see you any different than he does right now.

Except maybe murder- but he doubts that that's what you're hiding.

He also knows that Jungkook is aware of it too. Maybe you both are a couple? He does sleep over sometimes after all, seems to be awfully good with calming you down whenever you're anxious or panicking. It's like the young wolf is aware or something Yoongi isn't, able to manage you when you're becoming restless about things.

Another knock is heard. Yoongi attempts to call out- but gets up to walk to the door instead so he won't shout and worsen your headache. It's Jungkook- because of course it is.

"Hey- is- oh, there she is. I was wondering where she went " jungkook says, entering after the rapper walks aside, silently giving him permission to come in. "Hey- everything okay?" Jungkook wonders softly to you, and you quietly shake your head, whining slightly to yourself before you pull down your ears once more over your eyes, clearly signaling your headache to him as well. "I told you to drink more, puppy. Come on, let's get you home." He gently says, helping you sit up.

"She can just nap here, I don't mind." Yoongi offers- but there's something in Jungkook's eyes that seems oddly suspicious as he looks for an answer inside his head it seems like.

"Ah, I'll rather take her home, but thanks hyung." He tells him, averting his gaze as he instead occupies himself with you who's silently reaching out for him, clinging onto him as he picks you up, showing clearly how used to it both of you are. Jungkook holds you almost effortlessly, while you're instinctively laying your head on his shoulder, arms around his neck.

Yeah, you're probably a couple, and you just don't want to say it out loud.

"You know, you could just tell everyone." Yoongi grumbles more or less as he opens the door for the two of you, Jungkooks wide eyes looking at him. "No one's gonna get mad or something if you told them." He shrugs, and Jungkook looks around for a second, on edge. "You're together, right?" He asks, and Jungkook shakes his head- though with a hint of shyness in his face.

"Ah no- hyung.." He sighs. "I'll- she'll explain when she's ready okay?" He says, as you whine into his neck. "I have to bring her home now- thanks for looking after her!" He says already walking away-

leaving Yoongi confused.

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Jungkook honestly wishes you and him were a couple.

But life doesn't work like this, and sadly, you're not into him like that. You see him as a comfort person, a packmate and a friend- but nothing more than that. He remembers when he first 'caught' you in the midst of regressing in your home-

the whole apartment a mess, cluttered and absolutely disorganized.

You're one of only three percent of dog hybrids that fall into a different headspace when stressed or overwhelmed. It's not something you can control, and neither is it a trauma response- it's just nature playing a cruel joke on you, making your mind shut down to a certain degree to protect you. It's like your brain is overprotective- trying to shield you from all potential mental harm.

But all of that comes with a lot of issues and troubles, such as difficulty holding a job, or simple things such as keeping your apartment clean.

Jungkook remembers how terrified you were of him finding you in your messy apartment- having had to calm you down for a good hour or so before he could even attempt at helping you clean up and take care of your needs. He's not sure why you're so adamant on hiding it from the rest of the pack- but he's got an idea.

Dog hybrids with your condition are alienated, isolated, judged terribly. And you're probably terrified of being cast out of the pack for it, leaving you alone and without anybody.

Your personal nightmare.

So he just instead has decided to take care of you, and wait until you feel ready to tell someone else. You deserve happiness and the feeling of safety and comfort, but he can also understand that you're worried of how it'll be taken by the rest of the guys.

And yeah, he also gets to be a little selfish himself when he's got time with you like this. He gets to live out a little dream here and there, where you're actually his to love. Because he does love you, to the moon and back- and he knows his heart will surely break a little one day when you find someone to give your own heart to, instead of him.

So he takes these moments for himself, and enjoys those daydreams for now, until he has to wake up.

"There we go, that's already better isn't it?" Jungkook hums after he'd taken out your hairtie, fingers massaging the spot where it had been pressing against your scalp for the past few hours. You hum in agreement, nodding against his shoulder while you move a bit to get comfortable on his thighs.

You don't even know that you almost exposed your secret to Yoongi of all people- the one wolf of the pack you've got a crush on.

Everyone kind of knows it, everyone also knows about his crush on you as well- though you seem rather talented in finding excuse after excuse as to why that can't be true. Jungkook knows your main fear is what you're right now- and that Yoongi could find you appalling, or childish, or anything else negative that could come to your mind.

And Jungkook can't say he doesn't understand your fear- because he does.

"You're gonna get all stiff if you nap like that." Jungkook chuckles, patting your back a little, making your curled tail wag happily. "Don't be a brat now. Come on, we'll take a nap on the couch, yeah?" He hums. You whine. "No? Not a nap?" He wonders, but you nod now. "Okay, yes to a nap, no to the couch?" He navigates, laughing when you nod now, tail wagging. "Puppy if we nap in bed you'll sleep for hours though." He sighs.

But you simply wiggle out of his lap, before you run to the bedroom-

The wolf hot on your heels, when your doorbell rings.

When Jungkook opens the door, it's Yoongi- the producer holding up a jacket. "She left it at the dorm." He informs Jungkook, who reaches out to take it- though Yoongi holds it back. "I'd like to give it to her myself-"

"You can't." The younger wolf denies, panicking a little when he hears something jingle, and feels the toy hit his back softly, fabric ball tumbling to the ground, bell inside the cotton filling the cause of the noise. Jungkook closes the door a bit more now to keep you out of sight. "Just- uh, she'll grab it tomorrow-"

"Her phone and purse are in the pockets." Yoongi says. "I'm sure she'd like it back right now." He challenges, and Jungkook can feel himself squirm uncomfortably under the strong gaze of his packmate, having to avert his gaze. "What's really going on?" Yoongi asks, as the toy hits Jungkook's back again.

"Look, this is really bad timing right now-" Jungkook whines as he kicks the toy back with his food go occupy you at least for just a second to give himself more time to think of an excuse. "-She's.. not feeling well right now." He tries to justify.

"Jungkook you're not being very convincing right now." Yoongi sighs. "What the fuck is going on? Does she hate me?"

"NO!" Jungkook barks, before he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ah.. God, fuck, alright." He sighs, defeated, letting the door slowly open more, while he turns around to throw the soft fabric ball towards where you sit on the floor, toy flying over your head, making you flop onto your back as you try to catch it.

You don't even realize it's Yoongi who's now in the doorway whole Jungkook sits in front of you to start a game of tug-of-war with the soft llushy toy with you, successfully pulling your attention away from the producer who just silently enters the apartment, and closes the door behind him before he hangs up your coat.

It takes him one good look to realize what's going on.

The hazy look in your eyes. The way you don't even greet him, rather occupied with the game Jungkook plays with you. Your almost clumsy way of movement.

"So that's the secret?" Yoongi hums as he sits down near his packmate, watching you with an unreadable expression.

Jungkook nods. "She's scared of anyone finding out." He reveals, while he watches you now nibbling on his finger instead of the toy, before you yawn.

"Why?" Yoongi wonders. "It's not like it's her fault or choice." He mumbles.

"Yeah, I know." Jungkook shrugs. "But I get it, you know? You hear horror stories about it all the time. Friends and family being weirded out and stuff." He explains, and Yoongi grows quiet.

It really is understandable.

"So that's why you sleep over so much?" He asks, and the younger wolf nods.

"She used to be triggered easily since she didn't have a person to rely on." He explains. "But when I took on that.. role, I guess, she became more stable. It doesn't happen so randomly anymore, she's got more control over it. Today was just a bad day I guess." He shrugs.

"She must be tough to handle." Yoongi mumbles.

"Not really." Jungkook denies. "She's very sweet. The beginning was hard, yeah, but mostly because I didn't know what to do. These days it's become easier." He nods to himself, though Yoongi doesn't miss the look on his friend's face.

"You love her." He states.

And Jungkook only nods.

"I do." He agrees. "It's hard not to."

Yoongi hums in agreement, and Jungkook wants to be swallowed by the ground. Now that the producer knows, he'll take over the care of you- you'll grow closer, emotionally and physically, and you'll no longer need Jungkook to care for you.

His dream is ending, and he hates it.

"She loves you too." Yoongi offers. Jungkook laughs a little.

"Situationally, yeah." He nods.

"No, in general." Yoongi argues, but he can't seem to push through the thoughts of Jungkooks mind, the wolf having already decided his stance on things. "Jungkook.."

"You'll take good care of her, right?" He asks, looking at his packmate with round eyes that try hard not to let any tears fall. "You'll make sure she doesn't have to.. feel ashamed, or bad, right?"

"I'm not taking her away from you." Yoongi shakes his head, and Jungkook nods.

"I know you're not." He says, trying hard to keep it together even as you crawl into his lap to comfort him, sensing his distress.

"She was never mine to begin with."

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You're absolutely mortified when you're informed of what happened- or rather when you connected the dots yourself, after waking from your nap with both wolves next to you in bed.

One look exchanged with Jungkook signals to him that you've pulled yourself out of your headspace- body shaking now with the overwhelming sense of shame you're feeling as Yoongi sits up now as well to look at you with a sense of worry.

"Hey, it's fine." Jungkook reassures easily. "He doesn't hate you or anything, he's cool with it."

"Oh god this is so weird.." you hide your face in your hands, embarrassed by the events unfolding like this.

"Its not. It makes sense, really." Yoongi shrugs. "So this is why you don't want to move into the pack dorm with us?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Its weird. You can say that, I know myself that it is." You sigh.

"You're not weird." Jungkook shakes his head, taking your hand to reassure you. "Promise."

"I agree. This isn't weird, it's something that happens to some." He shrugs. "I still like you." He says without thinking, as you slowly look at him.

"You.. do?" You wonder, and he nods.

"Very much." He smiles a bit awkwardly, when Jungkook let's go of your hand, clearing his throat.

"I'll.. I'll see myself out then." He mumbles, and at that your head snaps towards him.

No- he can't leave like that. Yoongi might've..somewhat confessed, but you still need him. You still want him here.

Wait.

If Yoongi likes you, and toy like him back, and that leads to you Noth becoming partners, that's great. But if that means you can't have Jungkook, you don't want it. You need jungkook.

You love jungkook, too.

"Hey, Yoongi will stay with you, you're not alone anymore-" He tries to settle your clearly bubbling panic, but its to no avail. Your head is filled with the fact that Jungkook wants to leave, and you don't want that.

You want both. Why can't they both stay?

Your cheeks are wet with tears as your puppy-mind refuses to accept the situation. You've slipped right back again, as you make jungkook hold yoongis hand, before you yourself hold onto them, stubbornly holding onto their connected hands, before you lay down on them, eyes closed and ears pinned back.

"I uh.." Jungkook stampers a big awkwardly, attempt at pulling his hand away responded to with a low growl from you, eyes glaring.

"Seems like we'll have to share." Yoongi teases surprisingly, catching the younger wolf off guard as hemeeys the older one's gaze.

"I mean- uh-" he stammers, unsure. "Is that.. will that even work out?" He worries, while you happily fall asleep hiding both their hands.

"Guess we'll have to find out." Yoongi shrugs, laying down again next to you, Jungkook slowly doing the same a few seconds later.

Looks like his dream didn't end after all-

Maybe it just begun.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

[nighttime-horrors]

The way you write HABIT is everything… <3

Could you write something about HABIT and the reader living together domestically? Maybe reader having to obey and act like they love HABIT so it doesn’t yknow.. kill them. Reader might actually start to enjoy HABITs presence after a while and stuff. (Basically Stockholm syndrome-) idk like domestic fluff with a touch of angst

Idk I’m sorry if this ask doesn’t make any sense 😭

⊹ฺ Requested by a lovely Anon! ♡

⊹ฺ Characters: HABIT (EverymanHYBRID)

⊹ฺ Contains: GN! Reader; Mentions of death (not descriptive); HABIT is his own warning ♡; Use of "bunny" as a pet name; The usual Predator/Prey dynamic; A forehead kiss; Allusions to something like Stockholm Syndrome; SFW

⊹ฺ Note: I'm so sorry for the wait!! I really hope you enjoy this and I'm sorry if I'm a little rusty! Thank you for the request! <3

—

Your eyes lazily stare at the being across the room.

HABIT is leaned against a table, both of his palms laying flat against its surface. You don't know what's going through his head and you aren't sure if you want to know. With HABIT, it could be anything, and more often than not, whatever was going on in his mind wasn't good. Your stomach twists slightly at the thought.

"Hey, bunny." HABIT's voice is sharp and commanding. His eyes don't leave the tabletop, but you feel as though his gaze is burning into you. "C'mere."

You're immediately on your feet and walking away from the couch you were curled up on. Your nerves scream at you to stop moving or to run the other way, but you continue to take quick steps to the demon. You stop at the other side of the table and know that you're noticably more tense than you were a moment ago. To make things worse, you know HABIT knows it, too.

HABIT finally looks up from the table, eyeing you up and down with a raised eyebrow. "Why're you so far away?" You quickly fix your mistake, nerves barely settling at the slight gleam of amusement in his eyes. Once you round the table, you offer HABIT a shy smile, looking at his face. You're still too scared to look him in the eyes. You make yourself, though, ignoring the pain that comes with it. The eyes only belong to the body HABIT's in, now. You don't know if Evan's ever coming back.

He finally moves from his position and properly turns to you. You know he can see how tense you are, the inward curl of your shoulders and the way your hands resist balling up at your sides. You're scared of him and he knows it. He lives for it. HABIT knows how much something as simple as his presence hurts you; he's tortured and killed your friends, has tortured you, yet he can still see the slight hint of softness in your eyes. His favorite activity is taking advantage of that part of you.

His smirk broadens and you flinch. One of his hands slowly raises at your side, barely skimming your arm. You can't help the shiver that runs through your body. HABIT's hand goes from your side to your torso, continuing to move upward until his fingers made contact with the leather collar around your neck, squeezing the material in his fist. Your eyes widen and your throat suddenly feels tight.

You had forgotten that the collar was even there. Ever since HABIT had fully taken over Evan's body after being summoned, it had been around your neck, tight as ever. It hasn't come off since HABIT put it on you and the only time it ever even moved was when HABIT decided to use it as a leash or the few times you had tried to pull it off. None of those attempts had ended well, and even if it was just in your head, you would have swore that it got tighter each time you tried removing it. Each tug at the fastener in the back did nothing for you.

HABIT pulls you closer to him and you realize just how much has become normal to you in regard to him. You wouldn't say you'd become comfortable around him, you weren't sure HABIT would let you be if it were a possibility. Despite the fear and unease he pulled from you, however, you also somehow felt safe. It was like you knew deep down that you were too fun for him to just throw away. You were sure things wouldn't stay like that between you forever, but for the moment you would let yourself toy with the idea of being safe with him. Being safe enough to keep from dying was enough.

"Aww, bunny," he coos, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. "There's no need to flinch. You know I won't hurt ya." You look down instinctively at his hand around your collar before looking up at him. Your eyebrows are raised in a disbelieving manner, but not in a way that would make him angry. You managed to somehow keep the look lighthearted. The look must have been soft enough, because before you knew it, he laughed, giving you a loud and uncharacteristic kiss on your forehead.

You hate to admit it, but you love HABIT's soft moments. They're incredibly rare, but when they happen, you always take advantage of them. Even though there was no reason for it to happen, HABIT's softer moments felt natural to you. It was almost as if the two of you hadn't thought about killing each other, or as though he hadn't killed your loved ones and possessed your favorite person. Moments like this made you feel warm and like you weren't in danger. You hated how it made you feel, but it was a welcome escape. Almost like a necessary evil.

"Oh, come on, bunny. Don't look at me like that." HABIT teases, unwrapping his fingers from your collar and moving them to rest against your throat. "It makes me want to hurt you."

[verystrxxwberry]

I don't know if you're still taking requests but if you do, can you write some NSFW head canons for the MCL ng characters? :>>

MCL NEW GEN; NSFW HEADCANONS

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: NSFW, smut, explicit content, dirty words, probably misspellings, idk sex sex!! ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Teehee, enjoy :^

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

ROY

Intense. This man shows himself as someone who feels his emotions very vividly, no matter if they are good or they are wrong. When he is in love with someone, he shows himself as the most romantic gentleman there is. And he might be, but that doesn’t quit the fact that he is still a tease and likes to have fun testing your reactions and limits. I see him as someone passionate when it comes to those things he truly likes, and that does involve his partner. So the passion, the romance, that will be something abundant through your relationship.

Really good kisser. One of his favorite activities is to basically make out with you once his mind needs a break from work and other stuff. It might start with slow pecks, but Roy isn’t satisfied with only small kisses. If there’s time to take advantage of, he is indeed going to take it. At first he cups the side of your neck, making sure you’re in place for him to devour your lips as if it was the last time he could do so. No matter your experience, he finds the way to match your jaws moving together, turning the clumsiness into a slow and sensuous kiss which leaves you trembling a little. Having Roy so close, claiming your mouth as his hands wander down your body to finally squeeze your butt, would allow you to get the masculine scent of his perfume, only making you dizzy and shaky.

And the way his breath gets heavy as he progressively touches you with more need is a clear sign of his state. He wouldn’t be too discret.

The moment he pulls you to his lap, consider yourself lost in the most addictive cloud of pleasure. That position will allow him to invite you to grind against him. He’d allow you to dry hump him, and he actually loves the feeling of it. He likes the teasing over the clothes, rubbing and touching. It is what makes him crazy.

Vocal reassurance. Roy can be a tease, but he is still a gentleman and wants to prioritize your comfort over everything. As he proceeds with his touches and kisses he’d ask in between them “are you ok with this?”, “would you like me to go lower?”, “does it feel good this way?” And he speaks with such a gentle tone, with such an intimate whisper that could melt ice faster than lava.

Dirty talk. He loves to whisper things into your ear, both in public and in private. Of course being in private with you gives him the freedom of acting as he wants according to his words, but he is also capable of dropping a “babe, you don’t realize how horny you got me, don’t you?” in the middle of the dinner table, putting into the most innocent smile as he whispers that to you.

Big boy. Oh yes, he is a big man. That equals to his trained muscles but also to the length of his not so little friend. He is a brutal 13 cm when being soft, yet when he’s hard he can be 17 cm. He keeps himself shaved down there as he finds it the most hygienic for swimming, his daily life and intimate moments. He’s longer than thicker.

Pleasure giver. He absolutely enjoys focusing on making you feel great, relieving your stress from previous days and making your mind go blank. The only thought he wants you to have is about how good he is making you feel.

Ties his hair up when he is going down on you.

His favorite position is missionary due to the freedom it gives him to see your reactions, to kiss your face and neck, to hold your thighs apart and thrust slowly and precisely inside of you, teasing and abusing your already sensitive spot.

He is not ashamed to be loud in bed. Not only with talking, but he might moan freely whenever his body randomly makes him do it.

Roy has a fantasy about wearing a blind fold someday and letting you do whatever you wish the most with him. He is open minded to try everything, even if you want to peg him he won’t refuse because he also wants to try that.

He is a switch flexible to your preferences.

Roy has a high libido, higher than he’d like.

Loves to bite you. And you better stop him from getting too excited and let him give you a hickey, because he might casually mark you right in the visible areas and be proud of it.

A lot of teasing in the swimming pool. And luckily you sometimes are alone because sometimes he’d threateningly pull from your swimsuit as if he wanted to rip it (he does).

AMANDA

Neck kisses. Amanda is pretty ticklish everywhere, and a big way to turn her on is by kissing her neck lightly. The ticklish feeling of your lips in her neck is capable of making her shiver and squirm, and not to mention the warmth of your breath. She’d tilt her head to give you free access to the area of her sensitive skin. Oh but she also adores to plant kisses on your neck, it’s like a genuine way for her to show his affection but also to tease you if you’re sensitive there. Amanda would place her hands on your waist as she rests her chin over your shoulder, giving her the freedom to do so.

She can be a soft dom or an absolute pillow princess, she can adapt to your preferences. Yet she likes to be the one in control.

Gentle. Sex with Amanda is gentle and most likely vanilla since she wouldn’t stand hurting you or making fun of you. She might be slightly serious but she won’t say no to a joke during the act or a genuine laugh to make you less nervous. She undresses you as if she was unwrapping a delicate gift, and makes sense because you’re the best gift she’s ever gotten. She also goes at your pace, without wanting to make you feel rushed into anything. And even when her fingers are inside of you, she still lets you set the pace to your liking.

Praise. She makes sure that you know you’re the best gift she has ever received. Amanda will kiss your body gently, admiring every inch of it, as she whispers how pretty and cute you are like that. She’d tell you what a good job you are doing when she hears your needy sounds thanks to her fingers. Amanda is grateful of you offering her your most vulnerable side, so she must let you know her gratitude with her genuine affection.

She also likes to receive praise!

When she is the submissive one, it is a side of Amanda which you only see when she is trying to control herself. Amanda tends to get shy when she is horny, but she slowly turns into a fierce. But if you want to be the one taking control, she’s gonna lie down over the bed, her pretty thighs opened for you and her head glued to the pillows. 

Her fluffy and soft cheeks are permanently blushed for as long as the sex session lasts. Amanda gets ashamed of listening to her own whimpers, of how she doesn’t seem to control them when she is blessed by your touch. No matter if she covers her mouth, she isn’t the most quiet person.

Sensitive. I commented that her neck is very sensitive, but I also believe her nipples are very sensitive. She has big breasts, and she likes it when you massage and play with them gently. But she loves it even more when your tongue is playfully moving over her hard nipples. 

Experimentation. She likes to experiment a lot, but not with extreme things. Amanda is open to adding toys to the experience to use them on you, on her or both at the same time. She is open to trying food play, edging, bondage… As long as it doesn’t involve pain, she is good with it.

She cares about your comfort, meaning that she will make sure that you are in a comfortable position that won’t make you sore later.

Whenever you let her sit on your face she’ll feel like a queen, like someone who just won the lottery. You’d even do 69, and you wouldn’t regret it because she adores devouring you, and she does it very well.

Mutual masturbation will be constant.

Amanda loves to dress up for you. Whenever you both go out on a date, she’ll put on a tight dress which makes her curvy shape notorious.. The lovely scent of her perfume along with how beautiful she looked that night, the way her eyes invited you to get closer with that glint of passion she usually had- God, she was stunning. Amanda gets subtly touchy when she wants to provoke you. She places her hand over your knee, over your shoulder, or just keeps it on your back and caresses it up and down slowly.

Always shaved down there for her own comfort. She has juicy, small lips resting under a small button which gets erect and notorious when she is excited. The pinky color of her vag it’s satisfying to see. Amanda’s hole usually welcomes you into a wet and warm grip inside her, allowing your movements to be smooth thanks to the natural lubrication her body has been producing.

DEVON

He has a busy schedule so it makes the intimate moments to not be as much as he’d like to spend with you. Devon likes getting into intimate situations with you, as he feels it makes your bond stronger. Still, he will make sure to make it up to you all the time he couldn’t be with you.

The moment things are getting hotter, he removes his glasses. It bothers at some point to keep the glasses as you two are making out. 

Shower. Devon enjoys showering with you and taking his time to enjoy the water but also of you. After a long day in the office he offers you to take a shower with him, and unless he feels you down or upset, he won’t try to make a move. If he sees you following his playful attitude he will get handsy and passionate. It will be regular the times you both have sex in the shower.

Massages. Whenever he is stressed he practically begs you for a massage, but he simply loves your touch so much that he’d exaggerate his pleasant reactions to tease you. But he couldn’t deny that his body would instinctively react to your touch, making him hard more than once. He’s also good at massages, and if you allow his goofy side to come out, he’d keep going to massage other areas. More than once the massages would end up with a happy ending.

Playful. Devon is a positive person when it comes to his business, even if he is the boss and he has to be responsible with it. He has this playful mood he shows up whenever he is comfortable enough or he wants to ease the tension in the place. But he also knows how to add this behavior during sex with the intention of making you laugh and calm your nerves. 

This also involves that he is a tease and he won’t deny being into edging. So poor you, he won’t make it easy for you to come.

Devon likes to take his time to prepare you for him, stretching you out properly before you can take him. He’d use his fingers to caress your walls, scissoring you and making sure you’re properly lubricated for it to not hurt. That’d end up in a good fingering session.

Whenever you wake up early and there is still time to go to work, no one denies that there will be morning quickies to start the day.

Praising. Devon adores being honest with you and telling you how good you feel, what pretty sounds you make and that kind of stuff. He is very gentle with his words.

He holds your hands as he is inside of you, whispering sweet words and complimenting you during that sensitive moment you are in. 

Makes love. No matter if Devon is playful, he’d like to keep it vanilla, to make sex be something intimate, romantic which makes you both feel the deep connection in between you both. Devon may be intense, but he’d never be rough to you.

Cockwarming. Whenever he is working late in the office and you decide to make him company, more than once he’d hold you in his lap for warmth. But sometimes you both would get freaky.. So that’s the easiest way for him to feed you at that moment. Unluckily he won’t let you move as he’d still be working on some documents.

Devon isn’t a loud person during sex, he simply breathes heavily and sometimes grunts, but he won’t be too loud even if he’s receiving a head.

He approaches from behind whenever you are making a meal in the kitchen and gives you a couple of kisses on the neck. He’s not opposed to taking you over the counter.

He’s a soft dom, he likes to be the one in control.

For him it is a must to say “I love you” once it all ends, giving you probably the best aftercare someone could give you.

Talking about his dick, he might be 11 cm when soft and 14 when hard. He keeps the hairs short down there so it doesn’t bother during your moments. He has no time to shave himself constantly down there. He is on the thicker side.

THOMAS

Sensitive. Thomas is sensitive all over his body and he makes no effort to hide it, because, even if he gets flustered, he adores your touch. He doesn’t want you to stop touching him. You are one of the people who has the ability of making his heart thump loudly and fast like never before. He’d shiver and arc under your touch easily, but instinctively searching for more contact. His neck is sensitive, his arms are sensitive, his waist is sensitive, the same for his thighs… he is sensitive everywhere.

I believe he has no experience in the practical part of this subject, but he has seen videos when he was younger. Still, he didn’t have any experience with his last partners because they didn’t last long and there was no time to build a trust for him to get intimate. He has an idea of what sex is, he knows about the theory part but has no idea about the practical part (still there are things he doesn’t know or believes because he hadn’t experienced it yet).

We’ve seen that Thomas might do unexpected things that definitely no one would imagine coming from a person like he is. When Thomas wanted to take things further, the shyness started to fade. The quiet ones are the most dangerous in bed they say… and with Thomas you can check that it must be true because he really lets all his fantasies out.

Handsy. Just as he likes to be touched by you, he likes to touch you and memorize every single spot of your body. He likes to remember the texture and the taste of you, so whenever he just misses it he’d say “I think I forgot the taste of you, may I try you out again?” 

Making out on his motorbike would happen a couple of times. Whenever he brings you to a new solitaire space he knows, he’d sit you in the copilot room, he’d face you and then devour your mouth with no shame.

Ride him as he plays. Oh yes, he loves this. Even if sometimes it’s risky, he just mutes himself and that’s it- it wouldn’t be the first time he mutes himself while playing with friends because he felt like doing so. He likes it when you get all hot and decide to tease him on his lap when he is in the middle of a match in any game. At first you’d be frustrated because he’d keep you still in place, making you feel his cock completely inside you but staying still, with no movement. But whenever he gets the chance to get afk for a few seconds for the next round, he’d bounce you up and down, because he also wants to feel that friction. And what’s better than mixing both his favorite game and his favorite person making him feel great.

Whenever you are the one playing games, he’d also like to have you on his lap. And the moment things get hot, he’d finger you as you keep playing. Thomas loves to see how your character runs towards a wall for a minute as you are enjoying how two of his fingers pump in and out your hole with an increasing pace.

Hair pulling. He likes to get you on your fours to take you from behind, but also enjoys to pull your hair gently, tilting your head back so he’s able to kiss you during it.

Spooning lazy sex is his favorite kind of sex.

He can be intense too, but he must be very worked out from the foreplay to reach that point.

Thomas is silent but will get vocal after the first round, getting more sensitive with time, and you’d hear some little whimpers every now and then.

He’s pretty big, pretty tall and well distributed. When he is soft, he’s about 12,5 cm, and hard might be 16 cm. He has a pretty cock, pinky and with barely noticeable curves. He is thick and well groomed, his hair is also red. Just as Devon, he keeps it short enough so it doesn’t bother him.

He is known in the company for his memory, his great skill to remember things. Thomas would add this skill to the relationship to remember the things you like and those which you don’t.

JASON

Hand placement. This man is obviously a big tease with everything, including these kinds of moments. He doesn’t mind where he is, but he’d keep a hand on you right where he knows you will feel butterflies, whether it’s the lower part of your back, your waist, your nape to caress it slowly. And when you two are making out, his touch burns in your skin and he takes advantage of that to make you more nervous and aroused.

His smirk and gaze are the ones in charge of communicating the desire he feels for you, and it is hard to not take the hint. There is a different glint on his eyes that makes you shiver, and you don’t know if you should be excited or scared.

Begging. Jason likes to make you beg, both during the act and even before it starts. He completely adores making you desperate for his attention and his touch, and it would be one of the main reasons why he teases you so much.

He might rub against you from behind when helping you to reach something from a high place, obviously acting as innocent as he can after it.

Toys. Jason is curious about all the reactions your body is willing to show him, and he is willing to explore every extreme of pleasure to check which things will make the moment more intense or more uncomfortable. He aims to make you enjoy, of course, and he also aims to have fun. So as he is already inside of you, he’d use a vibrator on your sensitive button to check your limits. If you are into double penetration, he might also be open to exploring how it feels.

He uses his belt to tie your wrists together and make you unable to touch him no matter if you want. Jason adores tying you up.

He loves when you act like a brat regarding the consequences you are aware you’ll have to pay. 

If you are into it, he’d gladly spank you. He is really into it, but this man, no matter if he can be a brat himself, knows what consent is and he is a respectful man with that.

Jason is a sadist, but might keep that façade under a key if you are more into the soft stuff. He can be soft too.

Office. Similar to Devon, he owns an office for himself and of course he will take advantage of it. He’d also make you stay longer in his office, once others are finally home and he is basically checking the last documents of the day. He is taking you over that big desk of his, he’s willing to place all the papers to the side and make space to make you lie down. His ego increases every time you two do it there.

Jason teases you about being loud yet he aims to rip those needy sounds from you constantly, and he won’t be satisfied until hearing you cry out lovingly for him. This mf makes calculated thrusts according to your liking.

Sext him when he is free, because he doesn’t like to get turned on during important moments. Yet he sends dirty messages whenever he feels like because no one has control over his dirty mind.

He likes to give you the hope you can take control but haha…. It is all a joke. You are in control because he wants so, but he is still the one in control. 

Thigh riding. He wouldn’t let you cockwarm him because he likes to see you desperate, instead if he’s on a good day he’d let you use his thigh to cum as much as you wish. He would sometimes press his leg up to make you feel better spontaneously, but then he’d stop.

When he’s soft, his cock is 11 cm yet when he gets hard he can get to 15 cm. I believe this man is too fancy even there, with expensive boxers, a very well groomed area. Jason wants to be elegant even in bed. He is equally long and thick.

✰; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it!

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 [𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐙𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐘]

PAIRINGS —  Fitzwilliam Darcy x fem!Reader

SUMMARY —  Referred by a close family friend, reader finds herself a job tutoring a lovely young girl and begins to form an unlikely connection with her older brother

WARNINGS — slight angst, non main character death, breastfeeding (non descriptive, idk if this i need a warning for this but)

NOTE — okay so I know some of my fics in the past got kinda niche with concepts and some characters but honestly I think we’re entering a new era with that, but either way I hope those of you who like P&P enjoy this just as much as I do :) also I wrote this with Colin Firth’s Darcy in mind but I think it could just as well work with Matthew MacFayden’s (This can be considered to happen after his proposal to Lizzie but like if they didn’t end up working out)

You tried desperately to shake off the nerves that overcame you, it was not like this was the first wealthy family you had tutored for, but something about Pemberley just seemed so out of your grasp. You had received the position only through an old colleague who was moving to Scotland to be nearer to his family and had communicated with your employer via mail. From what your friend had shared his former boss wasn’t one who was warm and open, he might even be considered a little standoffish, but all he wanted was what was best for his younger sister who you would be tutoring. 

He’s a good man, he’s just maybe not as warm as you’re used to. 

And according to friends you were used to a lot warmer than most. Your father was never shy showing his affection to his children and you all loved him more for it, but it seemed to make you just a little off put with the way everyone acted in such a closed off society. 

With one final deep breath you knocked and the door was almost immediately opened by one of the servants. 

“I-I’m here to see Mr. Darcy,” you explained. “I’m the new tutor for Miss Darcy.” 

“Yes, Miss (L/N) is it?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” you gave her a polite smile. 

“Right this way, Mr. Darcy is in his office.” 

You followed the housekeeper inside and had to keep yourself from gasping at the beauty of Pemberley’s interior. 

After your presence was announced to Mr. Darcy, you were allowed to enter the room and gave a quick curtsey to get the formalities over with. 

“Mr. Darcy, it’s nice to finally meet you in person,” 

The man nodded, but offered no response. 

“I am assuming you have gone over the subjects I would like Georgiana to go over?” 

“Yes sir,” you nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. It was your job, why wouldn’t you have done that? 

“Very well, then that will be the extent of our dealings today. Someone will take your to Georgiana so you can meet her and being your studies,” 

“Thank you, sir,” 

Hamish was right, Mr. Darcy was not as warm as you were used to.

The lady who had shown you to Mr. Darcy beckoned you to follow her again and took you down the long halls and up the grand staircase which took you to the young Miss Darcy. 

When you saw her she was hunched over what looked like a piece of sheet music, making various annotations and comments in the margins. You remembered a younger version of yourself doing something similar to remind yourself of where there needed to be extra emphasis on things. 

Georgiana Darcy had a quiet shyness even just to the way she carried herself, but in that way she reminded you of your younger sister closest to you in age. She was maybe a year or so older than Georgiana and even from having barely known her a few moments you knew if they were ever to meet they would be great friends. 

“Ma’am,” Georgiana looked up and noticed you in the room, quickly shuffling away her papers while introductions were made. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled. “I’m close friends with Mr. Morrison, he’s told me a lot about you.” 

“You know Mr, Morrison? I was so sad to hear he was moving so far away,” Georgiana sighed. “He was a very engaging tutor,” 

“I hope I can live up to his standard,” you chuckled. “Your older brother gave me the impression that you’re prepared to begin your lesson today.” 

“I am,” she confirmed. “I was hoping we could start with something a little lighter though, but knowing my brother and his curriculum that might be impossible.” 

“He does have very high hopes for you,” you noted. “He mentioned to me in one of his letters he hopes for you to have the tools to be a smart, capable, and independent young lady.” 

“As long as being independent doesn’t mean being sad and alone,,” she giggled. “Come, I have a space set up in another room for lessons.” 

Georgiana took your hand and dragged you off to her study room, decorated by he you assumed, with flowers, paintings and lots and lots of books. There was even another piano in the corner of the room and she gauged your reaction to the space. 

“It’s beautiful,” you grinned. “You did this all yourself?” 

“Aside from moving the piano, yes,” she nodded. “But I told them where to put it and my brother helped me pick out the paintings.” 

“Well, you both have very good taste,” you praised. “Which might be a rather nice segue into our first lesson,” 

“Are we going to paint?” Georgiana asked, she even looked a little excited. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unfortunately not. It’s a review of art history, but I promise I’ll try to make it as bearable as possible,” 

“I trust you,” Georgiana smiled and sat down at the table. “As long as you can keep up with my endless questions we should be in good shape,” 

“I’ll try my best.” 

You smiled as you set down your papers and lesson plans. You would have to send a letter to Hamish because this may just turn out to be the best job you’d ever have. 

—

It had been a few months of you working at Pemberley and you couldn’t have been happier. Your walk to and from the village everyday was a little long, but it was worth it when you had a student like Georgiana. It really felt like you were spending time with your younger sister and you thought she maybe even came to see you as an older sibling. 

You had only really spent a handful of moments with Mr. Darcy and most of the pleasant ones involved his younger sister. You hadn’t much inclination to spend time with him although you didn’t complain when he came to sit in Georgiana’s study room to observe or read quietly while you went through your lessons with her. 

There was a quiet handsomeness to him and although he was not outwardly warm and fuzzy at least he was like the works of art you would review with Georgiana when discussing sculpting during the Renaissance. 

One afternoon during lunch, you noticed Georgiana was sending her brother some sideways glances, as if she wanted him to say something and when he wasn’t understanding her signals she cleared her throat and turned her attention to you. 

“(Y/N)-,” 

“Georgiana, we’ve spoken about this,” her brother scolded. 

“No, it’s quite alright,” you assured Mr. Darcy. “We’ve made a small agreement to refer to each other by our first names,” you explained. 

“I am well aware of the agreement, but that doesn not change the fact that it demeans your position as her tutor when she refers to you so plainly,” 

“I didn’t think my name was that plain, sir,” you remarked and ate a bite of your salad while Georgiana chuckled. That seemed to silence him so his sister continued. 

“Anyways, I was meaning to ask you about your walk to Pemberley every morning, it must be terrible when the weather is poor.” 

“I must admit it worries me to catch a cold when I should be fit enough to work, but I don’t mind the walk too much,” 

“I believe what my dear sister is trying to express,” Mr. Darcy jumped in. “Is that we’ve cleared a room for you to stay at Pemberley if you wish to do so.” 

“A room here?” you confirmed and Georgiana nodded with a wide smile. “You wouldn’t have to get up so early in the morning anymore and if you’d like to walk you can always do it around the grounds.” 

“T-That’s an incredibly kind offer Mr. Darcy,” you looked at him. “Are you sure this is something you would be alright with in the long term?” 

“I’ve given it extensive thought and it seems to be the best course for Georgiana’s studies and to ensure your continued good health.” 

“Well then, in that case I’d be honoured to accept your offer,” you smiled shyly. “I’ll move my things this weekend.” 

“Fitzwilliam and I can come and help you,” Georgiana suggested. “Can’t we?” 

Mr. Darcy looked at his little sister and you thought you might have caught a flicker of a smile before he nodded his head. 

“We can bring a carriage down and help load it up,”

He very well could have people come and do that for him, but there was something interesting about how he was so casual in accepting the suggestion of his sister. 

You would have assumed helping his younger sister’s tutor move into his home to be something quite beneath him. 

“Thank you, that’s a very kind offer. I’ll be sure to have tea waiting for when you arrive,” 

Georgiana clapped her hands together as if having you move to Pemberley was the best news she’d ever heard. You couldn’t help but wonder if the closed off and distant Mr. Darcy was doing all of this to please his younger sister, but when you took a moment to glance at him you saw how his eyes were already fixed on you and maybe it wasn’t just Georgiana’s doing after all. 

—

Something you would never come to understand was how the gardens of Pemberley were so pristine no matter the time of year. The hedges were perfectly trimmed, flowers beautifully in bloom and never wilted. 

During the summer months it was warm enough to go outside and sit without a jacket by the lake which you enjoyed doing on the weekends, bringing a good book and soaking up as much of the sunlight as you could get. 

You were so engrossed in your novel, oftentimes you wouldn’t notice if someone had come to call on you, or anything around you for that matter. 

So it came as a shock when you heard a voice that was in very close proximity to you, making you jump with fright. 

You placed a hand on your chest to steady your beating heart as you looked up only to find Mr. Darcy there. 

“Oh, Mr. Darcy, I don’t think I’ve been scared like that since… well, it’s been a long while,” you tried to catch your breath and steady it. 

“I apologize,” he said. “Might I ask what has inclined you to sit out here,” 

“Well, the sunlight for one,” you noted. “And a good book which I was reading until I was so frightfully interrupted.” 

“Right,” he nodded. “I should take my leave so you can continue-,” 

“Mr. Darcy I’m afraid you misunderstand me,” you interrupted him with a small chuckle. You were only teasing him,  “If you’d like to join me you're most welcome to. This is, after all, your home.” 

Mr. Darcy lifted his coattails and sat himself down on the grassy knoll next to you, looking out towards the lake. 

“Is your family all in good health?” he inquired. 

“Yes, as of last week they are,” you nodded. 

“You have how many siblings?” 

You took a moment to count on your fingers, whispering the names of each of your sisters and one brother until you had the final count of six. 

“Six, sir. I assume it’s just you and Georgiana?” 

“You are correct in your assumption,” he nodded. 

There was a moment of awkward silence between you both before you figured you would probably have to be the one to break it. 

“I do enjoy myself greatly at Pemberley, I’m very thankful for your hospitality.” 

Still silence, but as if he wasn’t sure how to answer. 

“Mr. Darcy are you alright?” you asked. 

“Quite,” he cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes, I’m quite alright,” 

His eyes drifted over to your book and noticing its title he pointed to it. 

“M-May I?” 

“Of course,” you nodded, sliding in your bookmark and handing the novel to him. His fingers brushed over yours and you could feel your breath hitch at his touch. 

He examined the binding and structure of the book before its contents, scanning the first few pages, but you were too focused on the burning feeling that he left on your fingertips. You gently massaged it away hoping he wouldn’t notice the way you had reacted to such a simple thing, but desire was nothing to be fooled with. 

“H-Has it passed your inspection, Mr. Darcy?” you asked, glancing down at the book, then at him, your hand still folded in your lap. 

“I have no objections,” he agreed. “A fine choice.” 

“I’ve only just started it,” you told him. “I’m rather anxious to see how it ends,” 

He took one last glance at the title as if he wanted to commit it to memory before handing it back to you. 

“I shall look forward to hearing your thoughts on it once you finish,” 

You smiled when he said that, you knew what Hamish had said when you first came to Pemberley, but now that you had been there the greater part of four months you wished to believe that maybe Mr. Darcy did have a soft side. 

“And I shall look forward to conversing with you,” 

You noticed the faintest twitch of his lip as if he was fighting away a smile, but he quickly brushed it off and gave you a polite nod before standing up and wishing you a good day. 

You opened your book back to where you had left off, but your mind was distracted. It was safe to say you didn’t get much further. 

—

“Fitz, you have to help me convince her she’s being very stubborn,” Georgiana eyed you and you tried to focus on eating your dinner. 

“I’m sure Miss (L/N) has a very good reason to not be convinced of whatever it is you’re asking of her,” Mr. Darcy came to your defence. 

“But-,” 

“Georgiana,” her brother warned, but the young lady would not have it. 

“Fitzwilliam,” she mimicked him. “She’s planning on staying bolted up in her room during our ball you have to do something,” 

Mr. Darcy looked up from his plate to you, his hands holding the utensils relaxing as he eyed your curiously. 

“You won’t come to the ball?” he asked. 

“No sir, I was not intending to,” you shook your head. 

“May inquire as to why?” 

“I-I don’t have anything to wear,” you admitted. “And I do not want to make yourselves or myself out of place with the company you shall be hosting,” 

“It would be more cumbersome for us if you weren’t there,” Georgiana tried to convince you. “Most of these balls are out of societal obligation and Fitzwilliam and I would be better off with your company, not without it. Lord knows how much he hates small talk,” 

“Georgiana, now that’s enough,” Mr. Darcy ended whatever was left of the conversation. “Miss (L/N) is a grown woman and can make the decision herself on whether she will attend the ball or not,” 

You thought that would be the end of it and that you would stay in your room with no questions asked, but a few days later when you walked into your room there was an unfamiliar package on the bed. 

You picked it up and unwrapped the carefully folded paper packaging to reveal a beautiful dress, one of the latest fashions from London. Something you could never imagine being able to afford. 

Attached to the package was a note, you quickly unfolded it and read what was written. 

I hope you understand that I only wished to remove any barriers preventing you from joining us next week. The decision is still yours, but I hoped this might help. 

Darcy

You looked down and examined the dress again. It was in a colour you remembered having mentioned — perhaps it was to Georgiana — you liked and the detailing was something like you’d never seen. 

You closed the door to your room and slipped off the dress you were wearing, replacing it with the one from the package instead. 

When you saw your reflection in the mirror you knew then and there you could not let this dress sit away in a closet to be eaten by moths. This dress deserved to be worn. And even though the very thought of it made you sick with nervousness, it deserved to be worn at a ball. 

—

“I cannot tell you how happy I am that you’ve decided to come,” Georgiana linked your arm with hers once you entered Pemberley’s ballroom. 

“It would have been foolish of me to stay in my room with a dress like this,” you looked down at yourself, still unable to believe you were wearing it. 

One of the maids had helped you with your hair, it was in a different style than what you normally wore day to day, but she had done such an amazing job with it you figured it would be hard for people to figure out you didn’t really belong.

Georgiana was your saving grace for a while, helping you start conversations with others and introducing you to their guests, but eventually — just like all good things coming to an end — she was pulled away by one of her friends and you were on your own. 

You poured yourself a glass of punch and stood off in a corner, observing everything that was appening in front of you. 

Georgiana was now dancing with the others and you realized that the whole night you hadn’t caught a glimpse of Mr. Darcy. Your eyes scanned the room for him, but there were so many new faces it was almost becoming dizzying looking through them all. 

“I see you’ve taken my approach to the ball,” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice so near making you spill your punch and staining your new dress. 

“Mr. Darcy,” you gasped. “I hope after this encounter you come to realize how easily I am frightened,” 

“Again, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to scare you,” he was sincere, but there was a hint of a chuckle in his voice. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” you took a deep breath and set down your drink, wiping your hands on a napkin and turning to give him your full attention. “I must say I’m surprised to see you on the sidelines.” 

“I believe Georgiana was ever so kind in mentioning that I detest small talk,” he reminded you. 

“And dancing?” 

“It depends,” he looked straight ahead, his eyes finding Georgiana’s in the crowd. 

“On?” you urged him to continue. 

“Who I’m dancing with.” 

You looked at him thoughtfully before remembering the stain on your dress and you knew there would be no way you could remove it with a little scrub of water alone. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Darcy,” you sighed. “It is unfortunately not acceptable to dance in a punch stained dress.” 

“Of course,” he nodded. “Although, Miss (L/N),” 

You turned your head back and looked up at him. 

“Yes?” 

“I would be very grateful if you would allow me to accompany you.” 

“Accompany me?” you confirmed. “To remove the stain from my dress?”

“Yes… or to perhaps mysteriously disappear from my own ball and not return,” he offered and you quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth and stifle a laugh which finally revealed to you Mr. Darcy’s smile and what a beautiful sight it was. 

“I would be happy for you to accompany me Mr. Darcy,” you nodded and waited a moment for him to catch up the few extra steps to be at the same pace as you while you walked out of the ballroom and towards the bedrooms. 

You could still hear the music faintly in the halls and you admired the peacefulness of it all. 

“Does it ever feel too big?” you asked. 

“Pardon?” 

“Pemberley. Does it ever feel like it’s too big?” you asked him. 

He took a quiet moment of reflection and you patiently awaited his answer. 

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what smaller would look like.” 

“It’s more about what it feels like,” you expressed. “Including my mother and father there were nine of us at home while I was growing up,” you began to explain. “Our home was not as small compared to a lot of the others around us, but in contrast to Pemberley it seems miniscule. When I wanted to get away from everyone I would have to leave the house, go take a walk in the field. Here I can just go to my room and I’ll be left alone,” 

“Do you miss your home?” Mr. Darcy asked. “Surely you wouldn’t stay there forever.” 

You looked at him curiously and he clarified, 

“What I mean is a woman such as yourself will eventually get married, perhaps move away.” 

“I do miss home sometimes, but it’s mostly my family. There is something about the quiet here, it’s so serene.” you clasped your hands together to stop them from swinging at your side. 

There was another spell of comfortable silence before it was broken again by Mr. Darcy. 

“Miss (L/N), if we stopped by my office I may have something that can help remove the stain from your dress,” 

“You do?” 

“When I was younger I had an awful habit of spilling tea on my white shirts so the maids started to give me something so I could get them cleaned faster,” he explained. “I-I’m not sure if it will work, but it might prove to be useful.” 

“Perhaps you should go grab it while I change out of this dress and into another?” you suggested. “You can meet me at my room.” 

Mr. Darcy nodded and quickly took the turn to his office while you hurried your pace to the end of the hall where your bedroom was. 

As quickly as you could, without damaging the dress, you removed it and laid it on your bed before picking out the nicest clothes you had out of your own belongings, but it came nowhere near even the simplest dress at the ball.

A couple moments after you had gotten dressed there was a knock on your door and you grabbed the dress and opened it. 

“We may need an area with better light,” you looked at your dark room only lit by a small candle. 

“Bring the candle, if we take it to one of the balconies it should give us enough to work with.” 

You nodded and did what he suggested before following him to one of the balconies in question. 

Mr. Darcy held out his hand for your dress and you gave it to him seeing the jar he held in his opposite hand. 

He hung the dress along the balcony’s ledge and opened the jar, pouring some of its contents on the stain. 

“Vinegar?” you asked. 

“And lemon juice,” he nodded after placing the jar down on the ground and scrubbing the affected spot. 

“Mr. Darcy, if you’d like I can take care of it,” you reached out and offered to take the dress off his hands. 

“I-,” he stopped himself as if he was unsure how to word what he wanted to say. “It would mean a great deal if you allowed me to do this for you, Miss (L/N),” 

You nodded your head and retracted your hands, holding them against your stomach, watching as he took extra care until, by the warm light of the candle, the stain was almost completely removed. 

“Thank you,” you said while taking the dress carefully back in your own hands, folding it and placing it on a table inside before coming back out. 

You could hear the music clearly coming from the ballroom, you suspected the windows were open and the sound was travelling. You thought it was a shame you didn’t get to dance, but that was partially your own fault, if you weren’t hidden off in the corner perhaps someone would have asked you. 

“Miss (L/N), I know it is just the two of us, but if I noticed correctly you did not dance tonight,” 

“I was just thinking about that myself,” you nodded. 

“If you would do me the honour of sharing a dance I’m sure we can change that,” he offered his hand. The music was slower, not something one would typically dance to, but maybe Mr. Darcy knew a different style of dance than that which you were familiar with. 

You cautiously took his hand and he brought you close to himself. You placed your other hand on his shoulder while he placed his just above your waist. 

“Have you ever waltzed before?” he asked. 

“Not that I can remember,” your voice was a whisper unable to comprehend how close you were. 

“It’s very simple,” he explained softly, “It’s three steps and you just follow my lead-yes like that,” 

You kept watch on your feet until you got a hang of the movements, allowing yourself to look up and see Mr. Darcy staring right back at you. 

You felt like you couldn’t blink, that if you did the whole moment would vanish. 

“I-I’m sorry I ruined the dress you bought me,” you apologized and looked down again at your feet, any excuse to tear away from his burning eyes that you sensed were reading your very soul. 

“No, I should be the one to apologize for frightening you,” he said. “With or without the dress you could fit in here, Miss (L/N),” 

You could feel your cheeks grow warm and you thanked him quietly for his words. 

The music came to a slow close and your movements stopped with it. You stood a moment, in that same waltzing position like you were waiting for another song to start so you could continue, but it didn’t. At least not one you could waltz to. 

You let go of Mr. Darcy’s hand and you were about to let your hand drop from his shoulder when you noticed a stray curl had fallen on his forehead, and out of instinct — perhaps from years of caring for your younger sisters or maybe even once or twice with Georgiana — you moved it out of the way, only realizing what you had done when it was too late. 

“Oh my-I-I don’t know what came over me,” you quickly stepped away. “I’m so so sorry Mr. Darcy. I should-I think I should take my leave,” 

Your movements were almost frantic as you quickly brushed past him and stepped back into Pemberley, grabbing the dress on the table and rushing to your room, overwrought with embarrassment. 

As if dancing with him so closely wasn’t enough, you scolded yourself behind closed doors, angrily lighting a spare candle and sitting down on the chair in front of the vanity. 

You looked out on yourself, a simple woman, from humble beginnings, desperately wanting something that could never be yours. 

—

“(Y/N), I am absolutely utterly restless, must we continue this lesson immediately?” Georgiana asked you as she looked down in dismay at her French grammar assignment. 

“I suppose not,” you hummed. “Would you like to go for a short walk perhaps? We can both get some fresh air and come back with a clear mind able to conjugate verbs,” 

“That would be amazing,” Georgiana shot up, out of her chair and was already halfway out of the room as you grabbed your things.

You linked arms with her and she eagerly led the way out of Pemberley and towards the lake. 

You saw a figure walking from there in your direction and you squinted trying to figure out who it was, but soon became distracted by some of Georgiana’s questions. 

She asked about the small town you came from, what it was like there, if you missed your family (the answer to that was yes, but the letter you had recently received from your father helped a little with the homesickness). 

You smiled at her curiosity, but your smile disappeared when you looked up and were face to face with a very indecent Mr. Darcy. 

Your eyes grew wide as you saw him in nothing but a soaking white undershirt and pants while Georgiana tried to hide a laugh. 

“Georgiana, Miss (L/N).” he addressed you both. 

You hadn’t spoken to Mr. Darcy — aside from light chatter at the table while you ate your meals — since the ball. You were far too embarrassed to try and converse with him after what you had done, but now here he was in front of you, hardly dressed and making your stomach flutter.

“Mr. Darcy,” you nodded. 

“Shouldn’t you be doing a French lesson Georgiana?” he asked his young sister. 

“We decided to take a break,” she explained. “We’ll get back to it soon,” 

“A-Are you enjoying your walk?” he asked, but his eyes were locked with yours. 

“Yes sir,” you nodded. 

“And your family is in good health? They are all well? Y-Your mother, father and siblings?” 

“Yes, from what I have last heard.” you confirmed. 

You stood there the three of you, staring at each other for a moment before Mr. Darcy finally excused himself to go dress more appropriately. 

After he was out of earshot Georgiana turned to you and with a quiet chuckle noted that her brother enjoyed swimming in the small lake on the property occasionally in the summer to cool off. 

“I don’t think I've seen him quite so flustered before,” she said. “He’s often so composed but I haven’t seen him stutter and stumble like that.” 

“I’m sure he was just cold,” you lied, hoping more than anything you could quickly go back inside and forget about the incident all together. 

—

Mr. Darcy walked down the halls of Pemberley a couple weeks after the lake incident, simply trying to go to his office, but when he heard a loud shriek come from your room his adrenaline raced and he ran there as quickly as possible, knocking on the door to see what was the matter. 

“Miss (L/N)?” he called. “Miss (L/N), are you alright?” 

There was no answer so he announced that he was entering the room, worried for your safety, only to see a letter dropped at your feet while you clutched your heart. 

“Good God,” he ran up to you, almost offering you the solace and comfort of his arms before remembering that it wouldn’t be appropriate. “What happened?” 

“I-I-,” you gagged and covered your mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick!” 

Tears were streaming down your face and your heart was racing far faster than it should have been, you wanted to tell Mr. Darcy the terrible news you had received. What made you cry in horror, and withered your very soul, but you felt dizzy, your dress far too constricting and making it harder for you to breathe.

“(Y/N), you must let me call someone, a doctor, you are unwell,” 

You shook your head, but not as a sign of refusal, you weren’t even aware of what was happening anymore, everything was becoming fuzzy before your knees buckled and it went black. 

You were lucky Mr. Darcy was right next to you as he caught you before you fell and quickly carried you to your bed, laying you down before rushing to the hallway and calling for help. 

Georgiana was closest and she came running down the halls wondering what her brother needed. 

“Georgiana, I need you to get Evangeline to call a doctor immediately and bring me a towel soaked in cold water and the smelling salts.” 

“What happened?” 

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “She read something and became distraught by it. She wasn’t well enough to tell me before she fainted.” 

“I’ll be quick,” Georgiana nodded and ran back down the hall to do the tasks her brother had requested of her. 

Mr. Darcy headed back into the room and kneeled down next to your bed. He couldn’t help but reach out to hold your hand and give it a squeeze, the worry shimmering in his eyes. He could care less about propriety at that moment. 

He needed you to be alright, desperately, whatever the news was, when he found out he would do everything in his power to assure your comfort. 

Georgiana came back quickly with the requested items and Mr. Darcy sat himself next to you on the bed. gently dabbing the cool towel on your forehead. 

Georgiana placed the smelling salts under your nose only getting a slight twitch from you before Mr. Darcy told his younger sister to leave it for a moment before continuing. 

“Georgiana perhaps you should be at the door when the doctor arrives,” Mr. Darcy said quietly, his eyes never leaving your still frame. 

“Of course, please do call someone if you need anything though,” 

“I will,” he nodded and she slipped out of the room leaving only you and Mr. Darcy. 

He placed the cold towel on your forehead and gave it a moment before he tried the smelling salts again, this time with more luck seeing you begin to stir and wake, realizing all over again what had happened. 

You barely even had a chance to sit up when your body erupted with sobs, your chest heaving and shoulders shaking. Mr. Darcy, again, desperately wanted to offer you comfort in an embrace but giving you any sort of added shock dissuaded him from doing so. 

Georgiana, presumably having heard the sound, ran back into the room and fell at your feet her hand tightly grasping yours. 

“(Y/N), what happened?” her voice was gentle but carried the pain she knew you were feeling. 

“I-It’s my father,” you pressed your lips together and shook your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, covering your mouth with your free hand.

Mr. Darcy grabbed the letter that was on the ground and with your permission skimmed its contents before passing it on to Georgiana.

“Miss (L/N), given the circumstances I believe I should escort you to your family home,” Mr. Darcy shared. “After the doctor has come and checked on you. I’d like to make sure you’re in good health before I return you to them. They need you in one piece.” 

You nodded your head and sniffed, wiping away your tears with the sleeve of your dress. 

“A-And Georgiana, what about h-her? Her st-studies?”

“Never mind me,” Georgiana shook her head and looked at you like you were being silly. She sat next to you on the bed and wrapped you in a tight hug. “I’ll manage for a while. Go be with your family, they need you and you need them.” 

“I can’t thank you both enough for your continued kindness,” you whispered. “Especially at a time like this.” 

“Of course,” Mr. Darcy nodded. 

Georgiana offered to help you pack a bag and you accepted it graciously while Mr. Darcy insisted you stay seated until the doctor came around, not wanting to deal with another fainting spell. It was frightening enough the first time. 

The doctor arrived around five minutes later and assured Mr. Darcy you were alright, just greatly overwhelmed. He recommended for you to take time to rest and relax, but both you and the Darcys knew that would only come when you were back home with your family. 

So with your bag in Mr. Darcy’s hand, you walked up to the prepared carriage. Mr. Darcy helped you inside and he followed shortly after securing your bag, taking the seat next to you, but leaving a decent amount of space between you. 

As the carriage began to make its way off the property you stayed quiet. Watching outside of its window at the gardens passing by, thinking about how long it had been since you’d seen your father and how you wished you could have been at his side when he left this world. 

Your eyes flicked to the empty spot next to you, noticing the way Mr. Darcy’s hand was resting next to his side. You carefully inched yours closer to his, wanting to ask for comfort, but not knowing what reaction it would bring. He was — after all — a very proper gentleman. 

You turned your head again and watched the scenery outside when you felt the faintest brush against your hand, to be sure you looked once more and saw how Mr. Darcy’s hand was now even closer to yours, as if he was making sure it was alright. 

You slowly stretched your fingers out slightly to him as he made the last move, placing his hand over your own and giving it a gentle squeeze as you both continued to look out of your respective windows. You didn’t dare turn to look at each other. 

When the carriage stopped in front of your home, Mr. Darcy was the one to let go of your hand, but only for a moment until he helped you out of the carriage. He told the driver he would handle your bag and after he handed it to you, you thanked him once more for his kindness. 

“And not just this, Mr. Darcy,” you sniffed and wiped away a few remaining tears. “It’s not lost on me what you have done for me in the time I’ve stayed with you at Pemberley. My room, the dress, the small parcels of books you’d leave on my desk every month,” the thought of his generosity was enough to bring a small soft smile to your face. 

And if he had the chance to do it again, Mr. Darcy knew he wouldn’t change a thing. 

“Thank you for bringing a light back into Pemberley that I haven’t seen in many years. You’ve done me a service just as much as you have claimed I have for you.” 

You gave him one last fleeting smile as a goodbye before you knocked at the door of your home, waiting for one of your siblings to let you inside.

—

It had been three weeks since you had left Pemberley and as much as you wanted it to be, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling to return, knowing what was in store. 

Once you were let in, you headed straight for Mr. Darcy’s office where Evangeline said he would be. You knocked on the door and as soon as you heard permission to come inside you entered. 

“Mr. Darcy, I need to speak with you urgently.” 

“Miss (L/N), I-we weren’t expecting your return today. I’ll send someone immediately to prepare your room.” 

“There’s no need, sir,” you bit the inside of your cheek. “I’ve come here to hand in my registration.” 

“Resignation?” Mr. Darcy was not expecting that. “I-Is this because of the passing of your father?” 

“In part,” you nodded. “I’ve been given time to reflect on the matter and I have now realized that during my time here there have been many boundaries of which I have crossed,” you continued to explain. “This has nothing to do with either your or Georgiana, this is completely my own mistake and I wish to own up to it.” 

Mr. Darcy was speechless, he wanted to argue with you, tell you how foolish you were being and that nothing of the sort had happened, but he could see your mind was set and if this was something that would make you happy, he didn’t want to be the person who got in the way. 

“I understand your decision, and although I do not necessarily agree with it, I will not stop you,” he said quietly. 

You pressed your lips together and nodded, “I’ll go pack my things and give the news to Georgiana.”

You left his office without another word and headed to your room to begin packing. 

After everything was complete and your belongings were in the carriage you looked around for Georgiana, finding her by the piano playing a quiet melody. 

Her playing stopped abruptly when she noticed you were there and she ran over to give you a hug. 

“You’re leaving aren’t you,” she mumbled quietly into your shoulder and you nodded as the young girl squeezed you tightly. 

“I’m so sorry Georgiana,” you apologized. “Please know that I have loved every moment I have spent with you. And I love you very dearly, as if you were one of my sisters.”

“I love you too,” she cried softly and you held her close, clutching a letter you had written for her in your hand. 

You gently pulled away from her, only to be able to wipe her tears and place a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“You can come visit me anytime you’d like,” you assured her. 

“I will. As much as I can.” 

You handed her the letter and she held it close to her heart. 

“I’ll see you again, I promise,” you tucked a small strand of her blond hair behind her ear and pulled her in for one last hug goodbye before leaving Pemberley and your heart behind you. 

—

Two months later…

“Fitz,” 

“Hello, Fitz?”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy,” Georgiana snapped her fingers in front of her brother’s face and he finally blinked out of his trance. 

“What is it Georgiana?” his voice almost sounded like a sigh, the past two months at Pemberley had been gloomy to say the very least. 

“You’re unhappy, Fitzwilliam,” she stated. “Melancholic, miserable, despondent, however you put it, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Why do you think that is,” he sat back in his seat, listening to his sister. 

“Because you miss her,”

“Her? Who is her?” 

“(Y/N), you miss (Y/N),” she said. “And do not try to deny it. You’ve been grumpy since she’s left and all you’ve done is mope about. You love her, Fitz. Which is why you should go after her because I think she loves you too,” 

Mr. Darcy only shook his head at his little sister, but it was more to save his own image than to disregard what she was saying, because he knew it to be the truth. At least for him it was, why would you have left if you loved him.

After lunch he sat in his office and attempted to get some work done and unfortunately his productivity was not particularly fruitful. Evangeline came in later to bring him a cup of tea and he thanked her, hoping maybe a warm drink could get him back on track. Instead, he knocked over the cup and spilled its contents on his white shirt as he cursed himself for his clumsiness. 

He grabbed a spare shirt from his room close by and went to try and remove the stain from the dirtied one. As he pulled out his mixture of vinegar and lemon from one of his desk drawers he paused, his mind drifting back to the night of the ball. 

He remembered holding your dress in his hands, insisting that he be the one to help remove the stain, it was so simple yet to him it felt incredibly personal, he hoped it showed that he cared. The way you danced together, slowly, close to one another, scandalous by all definitions, but how you had both become lost in each other's eyes and how you hadn’t missed a beat in fixing an unruly curl that had fallen onto his forehead. 

Upon a moment of reflection, he realized that perhaps his reading of your behaviour had been wrong, that maybe everything you had done, even leaving, you’d done because of him. 

He didn’t want to inflate his own ego, but there was only one way he would be able to get it out of his mind and that was to ask. The worst that could come of it is things would stay the same. Mr. Darcy would be alone while the woman he loved moved on with her life. But if there was even an inkling of a possibility, he wanted to take a chance. 

He left his office in haste and asked the driver to prepare the carriage for him. He informed Georgiana that he was going out and that hopefully he would return by nightfall. 

The carriage ride seemed to take forever and Mr. Darcy waited impatiently for them to arrive at your home. He knew this was an unannounced visit and it was as rude as one could be, but he had to know, he could not wait even another second. 

After he knocked on your door, he had half a mind to leave, to abandon this foolish pursuit completely, but before he could give it another moment’s through the door swung open. 

You had to blink a couple times to make sure you were seeing things right. You carried your little brother on your waist and he had his head tucked into your neck, not wanting to expose himself to the stranger in front of him. 

To Mr. Darcy you had never looked more beautiful. 

“I-I do apologize, I realize how rude it is of me to come unannounced.” 

“Yes, quite so,” you nodded, still shocked by his presence. 

“(N/N) who is it?” one of your younger sisters ran to the door to come get a look at their visitor. 

“Iris,” you hissed quietly. “Go back inside.” 

“(Y/N), be nice to your sister,” your mother came to join the three of you by the door all staring at Mr. Darcy. “Sir, you must accept my apology for my daughter’s apparent lack of manners. May I ask who you are?” 

“This is Mr. Darcy, mother, my former employer,” you introduced. 

“Then what is he doing standing outside, please come in.” 

Your mother took no hesitation in pushing you out of the way so that he could enter and by that point, the rest of your sister had gathered around to see what was happening. 

Mr. Darcy stepped into your home and he was able to adequately see what you were describing the night of the ball. Your home was obviously much smaller than Pemberley, but comfortable enough to house you, your mother and your six siblings. He could understand how it might easily get loud and boisterous, but it gave him just that much more insight into you. 

“Might we offer you some tea Mr. Darcy?” your mother asked and Mr. Darcy shook his head. 

“No thank you, but may I ask for a moment of Miss (L/N)’s time? There’s something I wish to discuss with her in private.” 

Before you even had an inch of room to answer, Julia, the sister closest in age to you, swooped in to take Peter out of your arms and pushed you in the direction of Mr. Darcy. 

“Of course, you both can use the sitting room,” she smiled and motioned for the rest of her sisters to follow her upstairs. 

Finding no other option, you led Mr. Darcy into the sitting room. He walked to the opposite side and when you closed the door you crossed your arms over your chest, waiting to hear what he had come all the way from Pemberley to say. 

He stayed silent, unsure of how to string the words together and so you tried to prompt him with a question. 

“How is Georgiana?” 

“She’s well, in good health,” he nodded. 

“And Pemberley?” 

He opened his mouth to say something then paused. 

“It’s not the same.” 

“Why not?” you frowned. 

“It’s not the same without you,” he finally admitted. “The estate is always quiet, Georgiana isn’t engaged in her studies, she misses you, I… I miss you,” 

“Mr. Darcy-,” 

“Please, allow me at least to finish and then if you wish me to leave and never come again I will respect that.” 

You nodded your head, signalling that you were listening and ready to hear what he had to say. 

“When you left you said that it was because you had crossed boundaries and you wanted to own up to your mistakes. I didn’t agree to that from that start, but if that is how you see it then I am just as complicit in crossing those boundaries. I will admit to that, but I crossed those lines because…because…” 

“Why Mr. Darcy?” you stepped closer to him, just a few inches, but it was enough to see the hurt glimmering in his eyes. 

“Because I had fallen in love with you. I still am in love with you. I wish for nothing more than to have you be the first face I see each morning and the last face I see each night. My heart is in agony, ever since you left us, I only wish for that pain to be soothed.” 

Now it was your turn to remain silent. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, in all your time spent with Mr. Darcy you could have never imagined that something like this could occur. He was a gentleman of high status and you were just a girl from the country. 

“I know it’s selfish of me to ask of you to come back for this reason, but I would be beside myself if I didn’t ask if you would even consider doing me the honour of becoming my wife.” 

“I-” your voice was caught in your throat as a couple tears escaped from your eyes. “I would gladly take that honour,” you nodded with a sniff, wiping away a few tears and walking up to him and taking his hand in yours. “And I will carry that honour with me as gratitude for allowing me the opportunity to marry the man I love.” 

Mr. Darcy gently lifted his hand to hold your face tilted towards him as you leaned forward to rest your foreheads against each other. His thumb wiped away a few more stray tears before you moved his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss on his fingers. 

“Is there any chance I may convince you to kiss me?” you asked. “If our relationship consists of boundaries crossed we may as well continue to be consistent.” 

Mr. Darcy chuckled and tucked a finger under your chin, allowing his lips to meet your own in a soft kiss filled with love and admiration for one another. 

When you pulled apart, Mr. Darcy couldn’t help but hold your face in his hands, with a twinge of a smile on his lips. 

“My dear, I know it is customary for one to ask for the blessing of the father when getting engaged, but given the circumstances, I would like to ask your family. Would you be alright with that?” 

You nodded your head, and held one of his hands that was pressed against your cheek as you turned to kiss it. 

“I’ll go get them and make some tea while you talk,” you said. 

You didn’t want to let each other go, but you knew for the time being it would be necessary. When you stepped out of the room, as you had predicted your family was gathered around the door, waiting for some sort of news. 

“Mr. Darcy would like to speak to you all,” you said. “I’m going to go make some tea.”

“(N/N) what did he say?” Julia asked.

“I’m sure that will come to light soon enough,” you nodded. “Go on.”

You shooed your siblings off into the room and your mother followed closely behind with a slightly skeptical look on her face. 

You sat and waited patiently in the kitchen with a cup of tea in your hands until when you looked up at the door you saw Mr. Darcy standing at the entrance. 

“Well?” you asked. 

He simply nodded his head and you couldn’t help the grin that had become plastered on your face. 

You had to contain your excitement and simply stood up to meet him and extend your hand for him to take. 

With one look to each other and a simple nod, you were both ready for whatever would come next.

—

The sun peeked through the curtains on a clear Thursday morning, you yawned and stretched, reaching over to your side only to be met with empty covers. As soon as there was a frown on your face you saw your husband emerge from the adjoining room with two glasses of water in his hands and your expression relaxed. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Darcy,” he said softly, placing the glasses on the table next to the bed and taking a seat next to you. 

“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” you yawned with a chuckle. “Have you been up long?”

He shook his head, “Just a few minutes.”

“Could you stay?” you asked while fixing a few of his tousled curls. 

“Of course,” he nodded and leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips only to be interrupted by the sound of a soft cry coming from the room next door. 

You were in the middle of pushing yourself up to attend to it, but a careful hand was placed on your shoulder and encouraged you to stay down. 

“I’ll get him don’t worry,” he assured you and not even a minute later, Mr. Darcy walked back into the room with your son cradled in his arms. “I think he wants his mother,” he said while watching the little boy squirm. 

“Oh he’s just hungry,” you pushed yourself into a seated position and held your arms out to take the baby while Mr. Darcy came and sat next to you on the other side of the bed. 

Just as you had predicted, the squirming immediately ceased while he was being fed and it made you chuckle. 

“What is it?” Mr. Darcy asked.

“Nothing, it’s just you get cranky too when you’re hungry,” you let a laugh escape while your husband shook his head with a smile. 

“My darling, you wound me,” he teased and you simply smiled back up at him.

“I’m sorry Fitz, what can I say? Like father like son,” you replied as he wrapped an arm around you and he used his free hand to gently stroke his son’s head, suddenly overcome with overwhelming gratitude that he took a chance to be happy. 

[teaspoonnebula]

Hullo, I am so sorry if this ask is a weird one but. You are in the fandom for a long time, and I need to know, is it me or is the ACD SH fandom *not* insane?? Everywhere else where I've been, I see people turning on each other, fighting over characters and the morality of liking them and not liking them, telling people to go kill themselves and here. I have been in this corner of Tumblr for a few months now, and everybody seems normal? Am I just not deep enough yet to sew the drama, or is this really just a place where people hang out to enjoy something together??? Are we just too old of a fandom to do this?

(feel free not to answer if this is too weird or anything)

Sorry my reply got really long. I've broken it up with memes in the hope that it makes it more readable.

I've been in the fandom for a few years now, and I don't have much to compare against because I've generally avoided fandom spaces because they seem pretty intense (and I've not had a piece of media grab me quite like this before) but yeah it seems pretty chill?

I think there are lots of possible reasons why.

It might be that the fandom skews a little older, with lots of people who have enough life experience to know how to de-escalate tension when they encounter it, and when to walk away from the keyboard.

It might be that there's a century-old understanding that we're all playing a silly tongue-in-cheek game with characters from magazine stories that were never supposed to be analysed this way. Remember the term "canon" as used in fandom circles was invented by Sherlock Holmes fans (specifically my boy Ronald Knox) as a joke, a deliberate cute misapplication of a term used for discussing the Bible to something frivolous. Not taking yourself too seriously is very baked into Sherlockian culture.

I sometimes get glimpses from other fandoms of this puritanical attitude that to like or not like a character or a piece of work is somehow a moral act, and I find that... bewildering. A bit scary. To be a fan of Sherlock Holmes is inherently to love something dearly which also contains things which should be hated: racism, sexism, imperialism. I think that fans tend to be people well used to approaching literature with the level of nuance required to process that dichotomy. To acknowledge it rather than hide from it.

It might also be because it's public domain. A big blockbuster movie or pastiche by a celebrated writer is precisely as legitimate as every fanfic on Ao3. Or the CGI movie where they're gnomes. Or a slightly wonky point and click game someone is obsessively making in their spare time (...coughcougheveryonewishlist 'The Beekeepers' Picnic' onsteam) Sherlock Holmes belongs to everyone equally regardless of how much money and power they have, which is why I love it.

Like, I love him as a character, I love the Victoriana, I love the mysteries, but the #1 reason I've gone gaga over Sherlock Holmes these past few years is the joy of loving a thing which isn't controlled by a corporation and which does not exist to make money (anymore).

I'm not saying there's zero drama because I think when you get a bunch of people passionate about something there will always be a little drama. I'll see things like the jostling of people who are very protective of asexual readings of Holmes and people who are very protective of gay readings of Holmes, things like that. Feelings can run high when personal identity is involved. But I've never seen anything got too vicious.

Errrr yeah idk if you wanted an essay as a response but you got one!

[celestie0]

First time asker but long time reader 😭 I’m sorry that you got that shitty ask. It’s such a weird fucking thing to ask someone “hey when are you making these two fuck?” like… does that not feel weird to type out?

The gojo x reader tag has at least 5 explicit smut fics minimum daily, go read through those if you genuinely need sex in everything you read (it’s time to reflect on the porn addiction you have).

Regardless, I’ve been reading your fics on Ao3 and I absolutely LOVE the banter between gojo and reader 😭 it flows so fucking well I can feel the chemistry radiating from my screen. When I first started reading IHM, I was also an ancient hag like reader (29) so I found myself able to really relate to her. Usually when I envision Y/N, it’s a random person in their place but with this fic specifically idk why I lowkey insert myself? Everything she does, I would probably do the same and it makes me nervous (in a good way) that I’m gonna get attached to gojo and y/n’s relationship 😭

I absolutely love how gojo provides the security Y/N so desperately needs in the span of the fic. She has been suffocating on her own for so long that he just provides some fresh air. Dare I say meant to be?

The domesticity is everything and I like how we’re learning more about him alongside Y/N. So far we’ve seen just how supportive gojo has been and I’m excited to see how y/n comes through for him because my spidey senses (and your amazing writing) shows me that he has some baggage and it might resurface soon.

The build up to them realizing they love each other is making me giggle and kick my feet. I will happily eat whatever you feed us, thank you for sharing your writing with us. You absolutely have a talent for writing and fleshing out characters/relationships.

I appreciate you and will do my best to support you vocally from here on out 🥹 have a great week pls!

hi my love!! first of all thank you SO much for this supportive message, i srs teared up when i read it 😭 idk if that’s embarrassing to admit lololdjfsdfh but yea omg yesterday was rough so i can’t tell u how much it means to me

i agree on the porn addict thing omg like i love smut as much as the next person, but likeee to go into an author inbox after they just posted a 14k chap of their fic n say “are we gonna get smut soon?” like 💀 that’s sortaaaaa. i’m getting porn addiction vibes

aaaaaaaa i’m so happy you’re enjoying the banter in ihm :’’) and that you’re able to see yourself in reader’s shoes!! that’s such a wonderful thing n one of the aims of my writing ♥️ ♥️ also pls 29 is not ancient hag oml i mean there will be lots of rhetoric in ihm where reader thinks she’s old but like ultimately i want the message of the series to be that it’s never too late to start over and find happiness & joy :) i think that really applies to everything and everyone. and ahhh yes there will be some pretty angst stuffs BUT there will be happy ending <33

yes ihm gojo def got some baggage 😂😂 i need my men like that LOL. but thank you so much for being excited to see how reader comes through for him as well!! i know she’s going through a lot on her own, and that can sometimes cause her to neglect the things outside of her…but i think she has capacity to really be there for him too

oh my dear i really am so lucky to have you as a long time reader and i’m so grateful to hear your thoughts, but also please send them whenever you want to and without pressure <33 i will eat it tf up if/when you do but yea xD never feel burdened to! you have a wonderful week as well omg imma eat u fr

[aurorawest]

Reading update

Light Up the Lamp by Kit Oliver - 5/5 stars

Kit Oliver can do no wrong, I guess. I figured I'd like this one a lot given that I loved her other two novels, but hockey books usually aren't five star reads for me. Along comes this book! Unrelentingly lovely, and even though I knew it was going to have an HEA, I still found myself worried that Gil wasn't going to figure shit out.

The Faerie Hounds of York by Arden Powell - 5/5 stars

Gorgeous book that read like a dreamy, dark fairy tale. The first book by Arden Powell I read was really funny, and this was like the complete opposite. Powell has range! This one is sad, but still has a happy ending. If you like Emily Tesh's Greenhollow Duology, I highly recommend this one. They're definitely in the same vein.

Deosil by Jordan L Hawk - 4.75/5 stars

I was SO SAD to get to the end of this series. Whyborne, Griffin, Christine, Iskander, Persephone, Maggie, Niles...I could go on, I love them all. It's hard to say good-bye but they all got a wonderful ending.

The Inside Edge by Ashlyn Kane - 3/5 stars

The Taste of Desert Green by Kim Fielding - 4.25/5 stars

Your Lonely Nights Are Over by Adam Sass - 1/5 stars

Crushed Ice by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James - 4/5 stars

Roustabout by Morgan Brice - 3/5 stars

Prince in Disguise by Tavia Lark - 5/5 stars

Loved this one just as much as the first in the series. I expected the Draskorans to be...idk, like stereotype fantasy barbarians, so it was extremely refreshing that they weren't.

Old Time Religion by EH Lupton - 5/5 stars

Ahhhhhhhh I love this series!! I really really enjoyed the first book, and I loved this one even more. Really good, really original. I can't recommend this one and Dionysus in Wisconsin enough!

A Thief and a Gentleman by Arden Powell - 3.5/5 stars

The Devil to Pay by Katie Daysh - 4.75/5 stars

If you like Patrick O'Brian but find yourself thinking, surely this could be more gay? Then Katie Daysh's books are for you. This is the second in the series and I was delighted to learn yesterday from her newsletter that she's working on the third, because I definitely am not ready for the series to end! The first book was from Nightingale's POV (there might have been some bits from Courtney's POV? But not many), and this one is entirely from Courtney's. Courtney and Nightingale didn't actually get to spend much time together in this one so I hope they catch more of a break in book 3.

Lord of Eternal Night by Ben Alderson - DNF at pg 6

The Engineer by CS Poe - 4/5 stars

The Larks Still Bravely Singing by Aster Glenn Gray - 5/5 stars

If you're not reading Aster Glenn Gray yet, why not? Why not??? Seriously, if you like Cat Sebastian, PLEASE give Aster Glenn Gray a try. I have yet to read a book by the woman that isn't gorgeous. This book is set right at the tail end of WWI and into the interwar period and is about two young English men who were injured and invalided out of the army. They're both disabled (Robert, the POV character, is missing a leg, and David is missing a hand) and have PTSD.

Also recommended if you like KJ Charles's Will Darling Adventures trilogy. The Larks Still Bravely Singing is just straight historical romance, not romantic suspense, but it deals with similar themes.

Guardians of Dawn: Zhara by S Jae-Jones - DNF at pg 24

Mr Warren's Profession by Sebastian Nothwell - 4.75/5 stars

LOVED this book. I think it's the only historical romance I've read that uses the Industrial Revolution so heavily in the plot, which I really enjoyed. Plus, gorgeous cover.

Honey Mead Murder by Dahlia Donovan - DNF at pg 5

A Market of Dreams and Destiny by Trip Galey - 3.25/5 stars

String Theory by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James - 3.75/5 stars

One Night in Hartswood by Emma Denny - 5/5 stars

I honestly don't know why, when I received this book in like, November, I didn't immediately put it on the top of my TBR pile. I knew I was going to love it; I was super excited to get my copy. Every time I've shuffled my TBR (like, my actual physical TBR...it's a whole thing...it's actually been mistaken for my full book collection but haha no that's just 200 books I haven't read yet sitting on my stairs...), I've lamented that it's not closer to the top. And then I realized, this is literally my TBR and my own weird fake rules that I've made up about it, so I can actually just pull it from the stack and read it now. So I did!

And yeah, I loved it. So much. Raff and Penn will probably live rent free in my mind forever, not to mention Ash and Lily. I loved the medieval setting (another setting you don't see much in queer historical romance!) and how it really felt like a different world than ours. Plus I'm a sucker for road trip romances. And daddy issues. And horrific scars.

And ugh, the training scenes. The sexual tension. The PINING. Masterfully done. Chef's kiss.

Also we're going to find out who Oliver was, right? RIGHT??? And what happened to Penn's brother?

Out of Touch by Michael Sarais - DNF at pg 7

The Long Call by Ann Cleeves - 4.25/5 stars

Always enjoy a mystery that's well-paced and well-written. I've never actually read anything by Ann Cleeves but I'm going to pick up the rest of this series.

The Death I Gave Him by Em X Liu - DNF at pg 284

[https-capri]

XIAO X FEM READER SMUT

it's finally here yall; kinda got mixed feelings so i might rewrite it eventually (give me ur thoughts) other than that, enjoy :)

cw: not proofread, porn w plot, 69, cum eating, face sitting, sub xiao>>>, xiao being inexperienced, idk js read it if you want, lowercase is on purpose

the night was like any other. your legs dangle over the railing of the wangshuu inn, more specifically the roof. your arms support you as you await the green haired individuals arrival. every week, at least once, you and xiao would take the night to rest and chat while enjoying his favorite dish; almond tofu.

you'd grown closer to him over time, and he'd tell you about his day if you asked with enough persistence.

the wind brushes against your body as chills wash over you, not hearing the sound of xiao appearing behind you, too busy listening to the soft chatter of the people below you.

a soft clearing of his throat got your attention as you whirred your head around, facing the man before you who held out your share of tofu.

"oh, xiao! i didn't even hear you coming! thank you for the food." you greet, taking your plate and sitting at the table on the roof that's placed for the both of you.

xiao takes a moment to look take in the scenery before him, nothing he hasn't seen before but is greatful he gets to witness something so beautiful everyday.

"xiao? are you eating?" you ask, moving a piece of tofu back and forth on your plate with your chopsticks, waiting for him before you begin eating.

"oh, yes." xiao says, preoccupied, eyebrows furrowed as if something else has got his mind in a knot.

he strides over to his seat, placing his food down and sitting across from you.

"liyue is beautiful, isn't it?"

xiao says, paying what he said no mind as he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear to make sure it doesn't get in his food.

"hm, oh. you're right." you say, picking up a piece of tofu and putting it in the air, a cheers to the night before biting into it.

"mm, it's good, xiao!" you say in satisfaction, chewing happily on the tofu. subtly eyeing him due to his out of character-ness.

you pick up on xiaos odd behavior, he seems a lot less interested in talking, and is avoiding eye contact.

in an attempt to save the conversation, you ask the same question you do everyday.

"so, how was your day?" you ask, face full of almond tofu.

"i-it was fine. nothing out of the ordinary." xiao says, biting forcefully into his food, seemingly trying to distract himself as his leg bounced vigorously beneath the table.

you shoot him a look of worry, gently putting your hand over his, as he lets out a sigh as if he'd been holding his breath.

"what's going on? do you need to talk about anything?" you inquire, trying to have your questions be less pushy in case it worsened his mood.

"mm-mm, i'm fine." he spoke sternly, finally meeting your eyes as his pupils dilate.

the rest of the meal shared was generally quiet, the occasional comment was made, but it wasn't enough to start a conversation.

the silence is no longer apparent as you begin talking about your day. distracting yourself, looking out to the sunset as you dawdle on the best parts of the day so far. across from you, xiao had been biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed as his arms pumped beneath the table rhythmically, unnoticed by you.

"yeah, so that was my day- xiao?" you cut yourself off, looking over to him and becoming aware of his strange facial expression.

he inhaled sharply as if it were a gasp as you continue to look at him in confusion. you glance over to his arm, that's moving rhythmically under the table. peeking under, xiao's hand grips at his crotch, rubbing it roughly as he grinds into his touch, through the fabric of his pants, you can faintly make out the shape of his cock bouncing; pre staining a small shape on the front of his pants.

"c-can you help me, please?" he begs, not stopping his movements.

"ah! xiao!! shouldnt you be doing that in private?" you ask, your voice a few octaves higher in surprise as you look away.

"should i?" he says, confused as he humps the hand around his girth.

"that- that's something you really don't do in public, xiao" you say, mouth agape as your ears burn with embarrassment.

"please, please it hurts.." he says quietly , trailing off as he groans and rolls his hips against his hand.

you bite your lip nervously, looking around only to see everyone heading to their rooms for the night, hardly anyone else being present around you, let alone as high as the roof; leaving the space to just the two of you.

"i... i guess, are you sure that's okay with you?" you say, eyes gesturing to his hand that was still palming his boner through the cloth of his pants.

"m-mhm! 'jus want it to go a-away." xiao pleads, voice high and whiny; like that of a puppy.

you stand in front of him and kneel to the ground, making yourself comfortable before gently taking his cock out. the tip shines with pre, a deep ombré of red as it throbs in your hand.

xiao gasped, immediately sitting up as you spit on your hand, beginning to jerk his shaft slowly, teasing him slightly. you drag your hand from the base to his tip, where it spits more pre cum thats slides down his shaft slowly.

"ngh... ha.. feels- feels good." xiao wines, biting the back of his hand to keep his whimpers down.

you wrap your hand near the top, and take your other hand to rub your palm around the tip, feeling xiaos legs jolt as you do so.

"still feelin good?" you ask, checking up on him since hes so fidgety.

"mhm!! 'so good.." he said weakly, barely being able to manage a proper breath with the state of ecstasy he was in.

you smile to yourself as you push your hair out of your face and near yourself to his tip so you can kiss it softly.

your lips brush up and down his shaft as pre bubbles from his tip, carefully, you wrap your lips around his length, tongue leading the way as it swirls around his girth.

"wait! don't, 'm gonna.." xiao gasped from above you.

"don't worry about it" you say quickly so you can go back to taking all of him.

his angry tip thrusts in and out of your mouth, repeatedly hitting your uvula as your gagging creates more spit that spills from the corners of your mouth.

"gonna cum?" you tease, tongue flicking up and down over his hole, waiting for him to spill his seed down your throat.

"hah!! yes! 'm so close, please-" he pleads, grabbing a handful of your hair and shoving your mouth back onto his cock.

you feel his cum paint your throat as you rub circles on his thigh, letting him come down from his high.

sitting back, you stick out your tongue and show him his work, seeing his face flush and turn away, you laugh and swallow.

"..'s never felt that good before." xiao confesses, continuing to look away bashfully.

"we should.. do it more often then?" you ask, batting your lashes at him playfully, not being able to help the growing wetness in your panties.

"ah- w-would you like that?" xiao whips his head around to you, eyes blown wide and face a shade of red so deep it looked like he'd been holding his breath when he was looking away.

"..i think i would." you say, creeping between his legs, hands sliding up and down his thighs as your wrap your arms around his neck.

"i mean.. you seemed to enjoy yourself, no?" you speak, grinning. you grab a handful of his soft viridescent locks and pulling him into a kiss. your tongue swipes across his bottom lip and he whines into your mouth.

"i know somewhere better we can do this." you say, grabbing his wrist and quietly tip toe into your room, pushing him back onto the bed after the door is shut and locked, undressing yourself of your top quickly.

"wha- what are you.." xiao says, only to be muffled as your topless figure crawls on top of him, kissing him passionately as you pull away with a gasp, telling him to undress himself as you finish taking your pants off.

turning around, you straddle his chest as you pull his cock from his boxers, pulling your panties to the side as you hover yourself over his mouth.

you hear his breath hitch as he grips your thighs and pull you into his mouth, wet tongue slipping into your hole.

"'m i doing this right?" xiao asks shyly, hand creeping down his torso to rub his shaft.

"mhm, 's perfect, nd let me take care of this for you." you say, leaning forward and drooling on his length before taking all of it in your mouth.

xiao whimpers from your touch, sending shivers down your body as you grind down on his mouth.

"you feel so, so perfect on my cunt baby don't stop." you say, panting on his bobbing erection, xiao groans into your cunt as your essence drips down his chin. you move one hand down to your chest, twirling your nipple between your fingers, feeling them harden from your touch.

xiao rolls his hips to meet your mouth, taking him so deep your nose meets his balls each slow thrust he makes.

"m close xiao, don't stop." you demand, taking your mouth off his cock and stroking it fast, grinding yourself down on his mouth as he suckles your clit.

beneath you, xiao lets out a high pitched wine, flicking his tongue up and down on your clit as you reach your high, throwing your head back and tightly gripping xiaos thigh as yours shake violently around his head.

untouched, xiaos cock shoots sticky ropes of cum into his abdomen, groaning as dirty slurping sounds fill the room as he licks up all of your essence.

having to force himself away, xiao throws his head back, breathing heavy as he wipes your juices off his chin with the back of his hand.

"again?"