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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 1 month ago

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Hello, ✨Marsilio ✨ question. I was reading a selection of his letters on internet archive, and came across one to young Lorenzo (1474) which … surprised me . I was aware of the romantic (albeit Platonic in the original and technical sense) nature of his relationship with Cavalcanti , but assumed that with Lorenzo was a more straightforward pupil and student thing, and then I come across this:

“Marsilio Ficino to the magnanimous Lorenzo de' Medici: greetings.

That you esteem me, Lorenzo, I have known for a long time, since you have given me many clear proofs. That you love me I have recently realised from this sign in particular; that you get angry, as though you were jealous, at the most trifling and imaginary offences. Get angry if you like, jealous man; provided you get passionate. The fire of anger and the fire of love are alike; for when I become angry with you, which I often do, then I burn with the fire of love. You too are on fire with no ordinary passion; I know what I am saying. And if ever we appear to grow cool, even so, our coolness burns with more heat than the passion of others; and our hatred, by Jupiter, is more loving and more lovable than their love. For, my Lorenzo, your anger seems to me more soothing than the kindness of others. Your bite is sweeter than sweetness. Oh how sweetly you bite, how sharply you kiss! You mingle a magic sweetness with the sharp, and a sharpness with the sweet, as does Nature in the most succulent tastes. And as your sharpness grows more bitter, so, like wine vinegar, it smells more sweet."

To the modern ear this sounds quite steamy , but since I’ve never seen a scholar interrupt their relationship in this way, I’m wondering if that is simply an anachronistic reading . There is a classical precedent of course for very passionate letters of friendship a la Cicero and Atticus . Are the florentines simply so drunk on the re-emergence of Catullus that they enjoy throwing this stuff around even between friends 😂?

(for my sins, I have written you over 3,000 words and the coherency and flow of this is...not my best.)

Oh I am always here for a Marsilio ask! His relationship with Lorenzo is an interesting one. A lot of people have diverging reads on it from Hook to Unger to O’Leary to Kristeller and so on however the majority do tend to position it as a broadly positive/good relationship. I differ. I think those boys were Messy and Complicated. Therefore, I will give my opinion on them below, but it might not fully align with the broader consensus.

(I am obliged, by law, to say that I think there’s an argument to be made that there may have been a little more physical Earthly Venus between Giovanni and Marsilio than uhhhh otherwise thought. But that is for another time.)

The tl;dr is that no one in academia, to my knowledge, has read Marsilio and Lorenzo’s relationship as romantic. Everyone puts it in line with tutor/pupil and client/patron and I tend to agree with this assessment (now, Lorenzo and Angelo Poliziano on the other hand…).

There are absolutely erotic overtones and undertones in some of their letters to one another – particularly in 1474 when Lorenzo was in Pisa helping set up the university there – but their actual relationship I personally have never read as being anything more than a Complicated (At Times [Very] Messy) Friendship. (Folks, 1478 was a Bad year.) And, as noted, my read is pretty bog-standard amongst historians. I’m not discounting the possibility of a new cache of letters being discovered that throws all of this to the wind, but that would be one hell of a find and the likelihood is very low.

----

Before we get into it, I need to provide you the full letter that Marsilio wrote since what was shared was simply an excerpt. The translation I am sharing is from The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Vol. 1 second edition, 2018. There will be minor differences from the translation you shared (note: any typos are mine alone):

Marsilio Ficino to the magnanimous Lorenzo de' Medici: greetings. That you like me, Lorenzo, I have known for a long time, since you have given me many clear proofs. That you love me I have recently realised from this sign in particular; that you get angry, as though you were jealous, at the most trifling and imaginary offences. Get angry if you like, jealous man, provided you get passionate. The fire of anger and the fire of love are alike; for when I become angry with you, which I often do, then I burn with the fire of love. You too are on fire with no ordinary passion; I know what I am saying. And if ever we appear to grow cool, even so, our coolness burns with more heat than the passion of others; and our hatred, by Jupiter, is more loving and more loveable than their love. For, my Lorenzo, your anger seems to me more soothing than the kindness of others. Your bite is sweeter than sweetness. Oh how sweetly you bite, how sharply you kiss! You mingle a magic sweetness with the sharp, and a sharpness with the sweet, as does Nature in the most succulent tastes. And as your sharpness grows stronger, so, like Malvatic vinegar, it smells sweeter than sweet. But what fault do you find in me, stringent accuser, most stringent lover? Is it not brevity? But you are the cause. The scale of your affairs make me brief, but the greatness of your love makes me appear briefer still. You accuse my silence, suspecting that it springs from forgetfulness, and forgetfulness from absence. But you ought to remember that if Lorenzo is not absent, neither is Marsilio, for Marsilio dwells in Lorenzo if the soul is everywhere at the same time, as you yourself truly proved in your recent letter. How, therefore, does the divine Christopher prevent me from seeing you? Especially since he is clear and transparent, and in Christopher I see Lorenzo, just as through Lorenzo I see and embrace Christopher. Do you want me to confess the truth? The eclipse which prevents me from seeing or being heard is not caused by the interposition of Christopher. No, it is you with your flashing lightning and thunderclaps that have stunned me and rendered me blind and speechless. Ah! Impudent young man, you triumph overmuch in your victory, however fairly won! What more do you leave for yourself, or anyone else? For you, that you conquer yourself; for others, that they allow themselves to be conquered with equanimity. Certainly, if I may speak first for myself, I rejoice at being overcome by you almost as much you rejoice at overcoming me and others. What shall I say of others? The morning sun gathers the clouds, and the mid-day sun disperses them. Youthful virtue arouses envy, but virtue in a mature man dissolves it and overcomes that jealously which previously dominated every other idea. You have converted almost everyone’s envy to admiration. Many now openly praise Lorenzo who previously envied me. But although hardly anyone who praises Lorenzo speaks falsely, no one except the Platonists praise him justly. Since the Aristotelians see Lorenzo so successful in whatever he does, they praise all things in him. For when they consider how quickly he has become master of each art, they realize that these arts have not been acquired by labour, but supplied by nature and granted from God. And so it is that I esteem your character in myself, and I love my own in you. I praise you in art, and I value art in you. I honour you in nature, and I marvel at nature in you. I revere you through God, and I worship God through you. And so God alone be all glory sung from age to age by everyone. Farewell.

------

My Many (Many) Thoughts (oh my god I am so sorry)

First off, this letter was written in response to a letter from Lorenzo complaining that Marsilio had not written him enough. Which is certainly something because Marsilio was one of the most prolific letter writers of his age. Infamous for it. Even his intimate friends would occasionally write and ask him to slow his roll because he sent them too many letters and they need time to reply to them all (looking at you, Giovanni Cavalcanti).

This is important to know because the letter that Lorenzo sent complaining that Marsilio hadn’t written enough (letter 28 in Vol. 1, 2nd edition), the one Marsilio replies to, is not the first time Marsilio has not written enough.

Letter 28 opens:

“How wrong was my judgment of you, and how right the old saying ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Who would have believed it? Indeed, I can scarcely believe my own eyes. I sent two letters to you; you sent scarcely one to me, and it was so sparing in words that if you leave out the greetings at the start, the farewell at the end, the date and address, there is almost nothing left. A philosopher should not talk too much—but nor should he say nothing!”

There are three other letters I can think of where Lorenzo complains of Marsilio not writing enough (23 and 25 in Vol 1; also a letter in Lorenzo de’ Medici, Lettere vol 1) and therefore not doing his duty as client to his patron. A patron who secured a benefice for Marsilio (San Cristoforo a Novoli, at the time it was considered outside of Florence. Modern day, it’s on the tram line only two(ish) stops from the airport).

A clear push-pull is happening wherein Marsilio is thankful to Lorenzo for his patronage in pulling some strings for him, but he is also dedicated to his parish, his parishioners, and so on. He cannot always be at Lorenzo’s beck and call. The intimacy of their younger years – when Marsilio was Lorenzo’s tutor – is changing. Lorenzo wants Marsilio to be his follower, his client. Marsilio wants to be Lorenzo’s teacher, advisor, friend.

With two strong-minded and opinionated men, this natural transformation in their relationship was never going to be easy.

In terms of the letter’s language – it is much as you suggested at the end of your ask which is that Marsilio is very much following in a lot of the traditions of the time. Marsilio comparing their little tiff to a lover’s quarrel follows the tropes and imagery used in a lot of classical letters and poetic conventions. Though it is interesting to note that Ficino doesn’t immediately follow the letter writing models of Cicero and Seneca – but the linguistic flourishes are very much present in his prose.

On top of the letter writing conventions of the time, Marsilio is also using this as a brief opportunity to continue his broader Platonic letter writing scheme.

Ficino’s style is distinctive from contemporaries in some respects which is the result of his attempts to emulate Plato and the particular frenzied poetic rhythms that Plato writes in. Therefore, there is a tendency to surge high and head-long into passionate and effusive modes of writing – which Ficino does with everyone (from his lover Cavalcanti up to the pope). I believe Erasmus, in one of his works assessing Ciceronian rhetoric and writing styles of previous thinkers, said that he would not dare to speak on Ficino’s style…so make of that what you will.

Ficino uses his style to emphasize several of his philosophical points: that contemplating beautiful things (art, music, poetry) allows you to ascend towards Truth (eventually joining with Truth becoming Divine. Ficino went full heretic in some of his beliefs), that participating in poetic frenzies helps you self-reflect which is also an integral part of ascending to Truth (and his writing style is frenzied at times. In essence, it is the written version of what he wanted people to experience), that sight is one of the quickest ways to transmute knowledge and beauty into the mind then the soul/heart and so reading about Beauty (and Plato’s philosophy) in Ficino’s writing, which also leads to an experience of poetic frenzy akin to divine ecstasy, will help facilitate your ascension to Truth.

But we’re not here to get into Ficino’s Platonism. The point is that the reflective, discursive qualities of Plato’s dialogues is sometimes also modelled in Ficino’s letters where Ficino emphasizes a self-reflective yet mirroring quality in order to unite people and ideas. We see a few examples of it in this letter to Lorenzo. Namely:

“But you ought to remember that if Lorenzo is not absent, neither is Marsilio, for Marsilio dwells in Lorenzo if the soul is everywhere at the same time […]” “…in Christopher I see Lorenzo, just as through Lorenzo I see and embrace Christopher.” “And so it is that I esteem your character in myself, and I love my own in you. I praise you in art, and I value art in you. I honour you in nature, and I marvel at nature in you. I revere you through God, and I worship God through you.”

It’s part of a larger epistolary game that Marsilio was playing not only with Lorenzo but most of his many correspondents. Therefore, when we read something like “if Lorenzo is not absent, neither is Marsilio, for Marsilio dwells in Lorenzo” we should understand that Marsilio is participating in a Platonic dialogue of sorts.

//////

And yet not everything in the letters is purely philosophic. There are also subtle political implications and personal shifts of relationships that we can glean within the text.

We return, of course, to the fact that I cannot stress enough how fundamentally shocking and important it is that Marsilio isn’t writing enough. That he is choosing to prioritize other people, other business, other things in general, over replying to Lorenzo.

Lorenzo’s letter has a lot of language around betrayal in it. Again, much of this is following the conventions of the day so the overwrought nature of the verbiage is to be expected. But there is something in the tone of the following lines that always struck me:

“Yet I am amazed and I really cannot find the words with which to accuse you, for there is no word so harsh or so abusive that Marsilian taciturnity does not far surpass it. By this you have betrayed your faith and our friendship. I am indeed hurt in your breaking faith with me, and by the blow you have dealt to our friendship. But much more wounding still is that, in setting the love between us at naught, you have separated me from the goodwill of all other men, and there seems no one left now to whom I can entrust my faith. For there appeared to be nothing so perfect, so constant, so true, as our friendship which had grown by your virtue and the passage of time, to such an extent that, if this has now evaporated, there is no friendship left which I can safely trust.”

He goes on to say that he is exceedingly angry but a letter from Marsilio would mend everything and “not only cure the wound itself, but even remove all trace of a scar.”

By 1474 Lorenzo has been in power as the de-facto head of the Florentine Republic for five years – ascending, as he did, as head of the family on his father’s death in 1469. In the subsequent years, Lorenzo began accumulating greater amounts of power in Medici hands, even attempting to amend the constitution to grant him greater control of the government. Naturally this led to some grumbling and concern on the parts of other leading families in the city and lines were being drawn, as early as 1474, between who was a Medici supporter and who was not. (Lines that would, of course, be a bit blurry in places since everyone was married to each other and nothing is ever wholly cut and dry in these matters.)

We know from Marsilio’s many letters his views of princes and they are not, necessarily, positive. He did have a hope for Lorenzo to fit the mould of the Philosopher Prince that Socrates and Plato so popularized but by 1474 I believe he knew that this was not going to be happening.

Therefore, all of Lorenzo’s letters to Marsilio accusing him of not writing enough – but saying it’s because of Marsilio’s new benefice taking up his time, or what have you – carry an undercurrent of Lorenzo asking him: “Are you my friend? Can I trust you to be on-side should I ever need your unconditional support?”

Never ask Marsilio for an absolute that isn’t related to God or Plato. (And even then, his can theologize his way out of many weird pretzels he got himself into.)

And yes, there is a lot of very strong and warm language in the 1474 letters between each other that is quite, as we would term it, spicy – but even so, Marsilio is very careful to note that Lorenzo is his patron. That Lorenzo should be praised and is the “hope of the country”. The effusiveness doesn’t have the same depth of intimacy – real, equal intimacy – as, for example, the Giovanni letters. They are through and through letters of client/patron, former tutor/pupil playing epistolary games.

Then beneath those games, the other political games.

//////

Over 1474 and into 1475 we see the tone and language of the letters shift. From the flamboyancy of early 1474 to the more formal language by September, October, November of that year indicates that something shifted. Something happened to cause a slow coolness between them.

The cause of the coolness can only really be speculated on since there was no sudden rupture of any kind between them until 1478 (aside from Lorenzo favouring Luigi Pulci over Marsilio). But by 1476 Marsilio is writing screeds venting about how “philosophy has no home in the courts of princes” to Giovanni and there is no doubt who he means by it (even though he includes the 15th century equivalent of “#not all Princes” at the end about the Medici and how they’re different/special/I wasn’t talking about them).

Some idle thoughts include Lorenzo getting his feet as a leader and not appreciating Marsilio’s tendency towards unsolicited advice. One such letter in late 1474 is from Marsilio after a bout of sickness wherein he writes to Lorenzo saying that his brush with mortality had reminded him that it is important to spend our time here on earth well and not wasting it with pointless activities.

And Lorenzo’s reply is, essentially, “Glad you’re not dead. Thanks for the advice. Not interested. But still glad you’re not dead.” Now, the tone could be read as jesting and Lorenzo did have a charming, if sardonic, sense of humour and it could easily be that. But given that he wasn’t providing the patronage Marsilio was expecting of him, that their letters had overall cooled in tone and vibe, I can’t quite get myself there.

Other thoughts on the drift is that because Lorenzo was never as generous to Marsilio as Cosimo and Piero were, Marsilio was starting to drift and seek new patrons. This includes the Pazzi, Salviati, and Riario family all of whom would later, of course, prove to be key instigators of the Pazzi Conspiracy. Marsilio tutored many of the young Pazzi men who would later take part in the Conspiracy, he received patronage and support in the church from Francesco Salviati and so on.

After 1478 Lorenzo’s largesse all but dissipated with Marsilio – though they remained on speaking terms and somewhat friendly. Whatever intimacy that had extended from the late 1460s through to the early 1470s was gone. Though, to Lorenzo’s credit, he had Ficino made canon of Florence’s cathedral in 1481 in order to help alleviate financial stress Marsilio was experiencing as he had to take care of various nieces and nephews after two of his brothers died. The next time Lorenzo would really seek to play big patron with Marsilio wouldn’t be until the 1490s when he sought, unsuccessfully, to get him a bishopric.

However, by Lorenzo’s death in 1492 (at the strikingly young age of 43) they had apparently somewhat reconciled and Marsilio was present at Careggi towards the end and certainly deeply mourned Lorenzo’s death once he had passed.

//////

I always read these two has having a fundamentally complicated relationship though they did, always, at the end of the day, care about one another. It gives me vibes of “I like you, I might even love you, but I also am angry with you for many reasons and I haven’t killed you/exiled you/eviscerated you in my writing yet because Cosimo loved you and I love Cosimo.” Like, the mutual love of Cosimo, the memory of Il Vecchio, carried a lot of weight for their very tense and complex friendship.

#lorenzo de' medici #marsilio ficino #marsilio blogging #italian renaissance #renaissance florence #lorenzo de medici #15th century #reply #history

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salliesimpkins · 10 months ago

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“I like you a lot”

Isaac lahey x fem!Reader

TW: Smut, oral (fem receiving), use of pet names, claws, nipple play

+16 read at your own risk. I’m not your mommy A/N: first smut to write + english isn’t my first lang word count: 2.5K

You were at school, leaning against your locker. smiling at and laughing with Stiles, until you caught Isaac glaring at you across the hall, visibly upset.

"alright Stiles I've got to go now, I'll see ya" you walked away after Stiles nodded and walked to Scott, and you made your way to Isaac.

"hey" you flashed him a smile and he blushed. How could he not? he thought you were the most beautiful thing ever.

The beta glanced over Stiles before turning back to you. "hey.." he spoke softly.

"Just tired... I uhh, I’ve got a lot on my mind lately" he said slowly and softly, not wanting to ruin this moment between you two.

You nodded slowly, feeling bad for him. "well you know, you can always talk to me" you said softly, reassuring him that he's got someone by his side.

You watched him closely as he looked at you quietly, and you didn't want to rush him to speak, you knew how sensitive Isaac is. It made him feel pathetic when he opened up to anyone or asked for help, that's what his dad has taught him. That a man is a man, boys don't cry, but Isaac knew you, he loved you, trusted you, and he knew your listen and get him anytime.

"I've just been going back.. thinking about my family" He looked down as his expression softened.

"oh" you whispered softly and placed your hand on the boy's back, rubbing it gently. "I know you've suffered from your dad your whole life, but his death Isn’t your fault".

Isaac flinched, but he didn't move away from you. Even though your gesture was tiny, it felt huge to him, It made him on top of the world. He let out a soft sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "I know... I just-" he paused, unsure if he can keep going or not, but he really counted on you, so he kept going. "I didn't even cry at the funeral and everyone thinks I don't care, that I was wishing the whole time i'd get rid of him, and the problem is.. it's true. I was relieved that he's dead"

"Honey listen to me" you took a step closer, placing both your hands on his shoulder. "your dad used to lock you in a freezer. that night.. that night he hurt you and you ran like any other night, because you didn't know what he would die" you then place your hand on isaac's cheek, caressing it softly "you were just scared, you did nothing wrong"

Isaac paused for a moment and leaned into your touched as he shivered. The relief he felt when his father died was a burden to him, but he knew you were saying the truth so he bit his lip thoughtfully. He wanted to say that your hand felt to right on his skin, but he didn't and rubbed his face with his hand then looked at you hesitantly as he spoke. "I- Iwas scared" his voice trembled as he stammered softly, making you unsure if he meant you to hear him. he slowly smiled at you softly and leaned into your touch again, causing his breath to hitch.

you sighed softly as you try to build up some courage and confidence to ask him to go out with you, but you were too scared that he'd turn you down so you just looked quietly at the ground until you heard a familiar 5 taps on the locker next to you and looked to the direction to see lydia. She must have noticed your flustered face because she tilted her head at Isaac and winked at you. You two have been talking about it and she was eager for you to confess to him, and apparently she was so sure Isaac wouldn't let you down for a reason she wouldn't tell.

you snapped out of my trance as Isaac cleared his throat and looked at the same direction you were just looking at, except there was nobody there.

"sorry about that. I was just wondering if you would want to go home with me? I mean-" You paused and took a deep breath. "why don't you come over and we can just.. relax?" you asked nervously as he just looked at you quietly. "Scott's sneaking out with Allison again and our mom won't be home until ten.. so I was thinking if you'd want to just come over instead of staying alone or with Derek, he could be lame sometimes" I chuckle nervously and put on a fake confident grin.

Isaac stayed quiet for a moment or two, taking in your words, and he thought there was no way he could turn that down, the thought of you and him alone in the house with no distractions. He knew he wanted it but he wasn't sure if you did. if you were just doing him a favour because you felt bad, but he decided to push his paranoia to the side and smiled at you softly with a blush on his cheek, nodding. "I'd like that, if you're okay with it"

"ahh perfect! we are gonna have so much fun! we can watch the notebook too if you want to, or maybe cook or play or just" you pause for a second or two, not wanting to creep Isaac out with your sudden excitement. "we could just.. chill you know?" You looked up at him with a smile.

The two of you walked to your house, as Stiles has already left with his jeep, and while you were walking you felt Isaac's hand brush against yours until he took it in, intertwining your fingers together. you could feel how his hand shakes softly and you knew his stomach was probably flipping, he was a nervous wreck.

You held his hand confidently the way home until you reached it and opened the front door for the two of you. After walking in, you turned to Isaac and smiles. "do you wanna stay in the living room, or go to my room? or we can even cook something!" you asked excitedly.

"Your room...?" He asked hesitantly. Your room was usually off limits, that's where you go to relax on your own, away from the pack. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to be there with you. But part of him knows it won't end at just being in your room. Not that he had a problem but that he was worried from Scott's reaction if he knew Isaac was in his sister's room alone in the house. Scott and Isaac were best friends and Isaac didn't want to risk it, but he still loved you.

you saw the look on isaac's face as he started to look overwhelmed, and more anxious than he was, so you decided to cool it down. "I mean it's okay but if you don't want to that's fine. we can sit in the living room" you shrugged, leaving the decision for him to make as you looked at his eyes.

Isaac nodded slowly, looking at your lips then your eyes. "your room" he said softly and carelessly. He wanted to be with you alone. he didn't care what scott would think, he didn't care what the whole pack would think, he only cared about you and being with you, he wanted you.

you smiled and tilted your head for him to follow you. you walked past Scott's room until you reached your room then you walked to the bed, After taking off your shoes, sitting on the bed, then patting on the space next to you for Isaac to sit on.

Isaac followed you to your room, closing his door behind him. His heart skipped a beat when you asked him to sit next to you and the only thing he could think of is how nervous he is. he looked at you and he thought you look so vulnerable, sitting alone waiting for him to join you, so he took a few steps, trying to regulate his breath before sitting next to you. He was so close and nervous, slowly turning his neck to look at you.

"so.. what would you like to do?" you asked softly, trying to make sure he's not uncomfortable.

Isaac looked at you and for the first time he has walked in the room, he didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to kiss you and see what happened but he didn't want to make you pressured, and he didn't want to risk kissing Scott's sister, he was the leader of the pack, so he let the silence between you linger before he decided to break the ice.

"can I be honest with you?" he stressed.

"of course, I won't judge" i nodded in reassurance

Isaac struggles to speak so he leans closer to you. He just wants you to understand him, he needs you to know how he feels, what he's been thinking of, but it's hard for someone like him, someone whom emotions always were rejected. He took a deep breath and leaned closer as his eyes fluttered between your lips and eyes then he opened his mouth to speak but he failed so he looked one more time at you before smashing his lips on yours as he moved one hand on the back of your neck as the other ran over your back to your hips, pulling your whole body into his lap while you froze in shock before pulling him closer, cupping his cheeks while you kissed him back with the same amounts of passion.

After a few moments he pulls away, and looks at you in shock, he had expected everything other than you kissing him back.

"I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have kissed you and if scott finds out he's gonna kill me and-" you cut him off pulling him in another kiss, slowly pushing him to lay down as you move on top of him.

"Scott doesn't have to know" you whispered pulling him in a deeper kiss that made him forget everything.

he was in a daze as he pulled away from you. "you look so beautiful when you kiss me like that" he said softly with a soft smirk that caused you to blush.

He smiled softly as he gently ran his fingers thorough your hair. "you're so beautiful you know? it's just so hard to focus on anything else when we are like that, when you're with me. We can take this as slow as you want"

you pulled him for a kiss in response, breaking it as you smiling against lips, and he moaned softly, slipping his hands under your shirt, caressing your soft skin.

"i want this. you. Right here, right now, But I also don't want to hurt you so tell me what you want, darling." he whisper in your ear as his breath hit your neck, causing you to shiver.

"i want you, please" you whined and pulled him into another kiss as your tongue begged for entrance in his mouth. he let out a soft involuntary moan, as his caresses on your back got faster. His tongue danced with your and he began to grind on you, making you feel the hard bulge in his jeans that rubbed your throbbing pussy, until you pulled away from the kiss breathlessly, pushing him up by his chest, reaching to his shirt, playing with a soft fabric slowly. He sat up on his knees in front of you between your legs, taking off his shirt. You looked up at him, slowly placing the balm of your hand on his chest, tracing your finger over it to his stomach. He let out a low groan while he watched you trace your fingers over his chest, his muscles tensed under your touch.

"you're killing me honey" He whispered, moving closer to you as he kissed your neck slowly, then he sat up again as his hands found their way between your legs. Should undo your bra, or maybe start with these pants?" he teased, and sprung his claws out, moving them swiftly above you, tearing off your clothes.

"i loved that set" you pouted and he smirked

"i'll get you new ones" he pulled your clothes off your body, tossing them away on the floor with his shirt.

He smirked when he saw the blush on your face when you looked away, leaning down to your neck. "don't be shy baby" he whispered, before tracing kissed down your collarbone.

you moaned softly, moving your hands to caress his back softly and he let out a sigh against your skin. His hands found your thighs as he rubbed them slowly, kissing lower and lower. His kisses and nibbles reached your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling and sucking around it while he groped the other one with his hand, pinching the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly.

"I love you, so much" He showered your stomach with smooches and pecks, until his mouth found your slit, running his tongue through your wetness, humming in satisfaction. "so wet baby" he flicked your clit with his tongue as you struggled to answer him back, running your fingers through his hair as you pulled them gently. He took one of his hand, wrapping it around my waist to keep me down while he slid a finger in you with the other, slowly and gently, causing you to moan softly.

he sucked your clit harder making you pull his hair tightly, causing him to moan which vibrates against your pussy as his fingers go faster, feeling you clench around them, sucking them in. "Fuck Isaac" you whined. "i'm so close" you whispered, wondering if he even heard you, then he confirmed as he added a finger in, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching you out as you pull his hair tighter. "Isaac!" you warned, and he understood as you reached your climax, coating his fingers with your cum while he kept his gaze on you then he pulled them out, lapping at your pussy hungrily, taking in your juices.

"you're so sweet baby" he moved up to kiss you as you taste your own arousal. He pulled away from the kiss and you bit your lip, panting for air and you moved your hand to his head, pulling him back down to kiss you, you couldn't get enough of him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

hope you guys liked this 🎀

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