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bandgie · 2 years ago

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Predator & Prey

smut!Nonhuman

synopsis: You were suddenly teleported to a snowy world while discovering a cave. After norrowingly escaping a terrible fate, you're practically forced to deal with a winged beast you saved. It's awkward and kinda mean, but it does more good than harm.

warnings!: I think this counts as dead dove, there's some gore (stabbing, blood, bone breaking) in this chapter. there's also monsterfucking, but it's not in this chapter (no smut... yet), reader is also is a scary situation but you'll make it out okay :)

a/n: I love monster fucking, I am part of the community and I pray this reaches the right audience cuz im not tryna be shamed!

5.4k words

You wore a cute spring dress, being that it was Easter. You did not favor the color white or yellow, so you when with a shade of pink that went nicely against your skin. The dress was decorated with small flowers at the bottom of the dress that touched your mid thigh. You wore open-toed wedges made it a little difficult to walk in, but you could manage.

Though you liked hunting for eggs, pictures were probably your least favorite part. Then again, you're sure it was everyone's least favorite part. Your family was looking for another spot to take a picture, so you were free to explore the terrain of the area. Your family had chosen a secluded beach, not many people but too many caves. You opted to watch the beach, the waves softly splashing at your feet.

Your peace is broken by your younger sibling calling your name, signaling that your parents have found a place for pictures. With a sigh, you grab your shoes and walk barefoot on the sand. Then you feel it, a cold breeze washes over you that send chills down your spine. Your head whips around, arms wrapping around your body as you look at your surroundings. Sure it was windy, but it shouldn't have been that cold.

You're about to ignore it when you feel the gust of wind again, now realizing it's coming from the cave to your right. You narrow your eyes to look inside, unsure of what you might see.

Nothing.

You step closer, ignoring your sibling's yelling as you walk into the cave. The empty cave, save for the water on the ground and the...icicles on the ceiling?

The ground starts to viciously shake, your arms stretching out to find something to balance on. One arm grabs onto the side of cave while the other block the top of your head to prevent the icicles from falling on you.

An earthquake, you think as you fear for you life and your family's. They should be safe, given that they're outside. You though? You're not entirely sure. After a few more seconds, the ground stops moving, the water stops splashing so aggressively. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding and turn, running back to your family to check on them.

The cold hits you immediately, your arms go back to wrapping across your body. You think you're hallucinating, dreaming. Those icicles must've hit your head leaving you unconscious. But why does it feel so real? The painful chill you're body is experiencing, the chattering of your teeth, the snow that falls from the sky, why is it all so real?

You take tentative steps forward, eyes scanning the frosty trees and ears hyper fixated on the crunch beneath your feet. Toes and fingers are the first to go in frostbite, so you bend down to put your shoes back on. You sink into the snow, but it's either this or chopping your feet off.

"Mom?! Dad?!" You yell. You strain to hear any response, but you're left with deafening silence. You sniff, eyes starting to water. You're scared, the overwhelming scene of loneliness quickly starting to get the best of you.

You shake your head aggressively, the heated curls on your head hitting you in the face. Crying won't fix anything, it'll only make things worse. With a few deep breaths, you manage to maintain your composure.

Okay first things first, you think, get warm. Most people would advise you to stay where you are when you're lost, but in this case, that's the last thing you should do. You look at where the sun is, determining that it's a little past the afternoon. People who live in the snow build their houses on the East, so maybe if you head in that direction you'll find something?

"Oh my god," you say aloud, finally accepting the predicament you're in.

"I'm fucked."

You were about to give up on your pursuit of finding warmth until you saw a large house, or building. It was far, but it was there. Your body was shivering, and you know your snot and tears were frozen on your face, but the mere sight of a home had you running.

Your wedges quickly came undone, leaving your barefooted to run in the burning snow. You didn't care though, and the view of the house-no mansion quickly came into view. It was bigger than you anticipated, but you could only cry of joy when you ran up the steps and banged on the door.

It didn't matter if you looked like a crazy woman, it didn't matter how disgusting your face was, what mattered was being thrown in a fire.

"Hello?!?!? Excuse me?!?!" Your voice was loud, demanding to be heard. Both your hands were banging harshly on the door, you would apologize for being so rude later.

Finally the door swung open, an older lady in white and black greening you.

"What in names heaven do you think you're- Oh my goodness!" She quickly took in your physical state. She grabbed you by the hand and yanked you inside, shutting the door.

"Grace?" Another voice called from deeper inside the house. "Who was it?"

The lady, who you now know was Grace, waved a dismissive hand. "Run me a hot bath! Quickly! Quickly!" Grace was practically pushing you inside, up the stairs while your feet struggled to keep up. You were shivering too much, tears clouding your vision that you could barely see where you were going. But you could feel the warm embrace of heat.

You were shoved into a room, clothes quickly being stripped off before you could complain. Grace along with other women lifted you and placed you in a bath. You yelped in pain, the heat of the water was too much. If they heard you, they ignored you. Rather, they dunked a bucket of water over your head, warming every part of your body.

After clearing your face, you finally took in the way the bathroom looked, if you could call it that. It was unbelievably big, a large window stood in front of you. Then you looked the women who were scrubbing you, varying from ages. Yet, it was clear the Grace was the one in charge, easily giving orders the other ladies listened to. They were all dressed the same, as if it was uniform.

"Do you guys...work here?" You ask.

Your voice broke their concentration, eyes narrowing at you. "Maids tend to work where they live, yes," Grace answers, as if it's the most obvious answer. Maids? You think, who has maids nowadays? Before you can ask another question, Grace speaks.

"Are you feeling better? Can you move?" Her eyes can your body from underneath the body, and now is it that you become aware that you're nude. You can't cover yourself though, the other women were busy cleaning your arms and scrubbing your head.

You nod deciding that this must be a frequent occurrence for them, "Yeah, it's just a little hard to move my fingers." She nods, turning to the door. "That's normal," she starts, "I'll find you something to wear. Girls..." her head turns to her workers, "Get her dry."

With multiple yes ma'am's they pull you out of the water, leaving you to bare to the window. A small shriek leaves your lips, you quickly tell them you can dry yourself. They instead giggle at your little outburst, gently pulling you out of the tub.

"Please don't worry yourself miss," one of them says. It's only then that you notice their accent. It had a slight lisp to it, like a gentle pirate who was sophisticated.

"You'll be fine with us. For now, we should get the hearth going. Need to warm yourself yes?" Another was grabbing the towel, wrapping you tightly. Before you could say something, there was loud clanging. Muffled, but loud enough. You peer outside the two-story window and see a cage. There were three people, men you think, poking at the cage with what seemed like a stick. Whatever was in the cage was not happy, thrashing around angrily.

"Please miss, pry you eyes away. It's unwise to look upon such a beastly thing," another girl pulls you away from the window, using smaller towels to dry your hands and feet.

You remain silent, allowing them to dry your body. You hear a couple of them whispering near the door.

"I hear she came with ill clothes, indecent for a young lady in this cold," one whispers. "She must not be from here. Perhaps she was in an accident and got lost," the other reasons.

Before you could say anything, the door swings open, almost hitting the two gossiping girls. Grace waltz in, a large dress in her hands. She sets it on the stool nearby and with a wave of her hand, dismisses a few of the girls.

"I believe this will fit rather nicely. These girls will do your hair and such," Grace announces.

"Actually," you start, "I'm just lost. I don't know where I am and-" Grace laughs, though you didn't say anything funny. "I understand your worries, but I believe you should concern yourself with other things. Do you know whose house you're in?" Her eyes glint with curiosity. I shake my head, "Like I said, I'm lost and I need to find my-"

"You are in the home of Lord Lukas," Grace interrupts again. You're starting to grow irritated, close to snapping at this lady. She helped you though, clothed and bathed you; you bite your tongue.

"He is the famous monster hunter, and you stumble in here wearing heavens knows what in the winter. You have stirred the pot in such a way, miss. Perhaps I pry too much, but are you...interested in the lord?"

You furrow your eyebrows. The ladies behind you are dead silent, waiting for your response. You take a deep breath, "I don't want to talk about this naked."

The ladies gasp, as if you had said a terrible thing. They quickly grab the dress from Grace and bottles from the bid dresser behind you. Without a word, grab at your towel, but you hold it tightly.

"Can I dress myself?!" You shout, losing your composure. The ladies look at one another then at Grace. For a moment, Grace eyes you suspiciously. She lets out a sigh and nods, "Leave her girls. We need to prepare for dinner."

You have decided that not only are you in a completely different area, but surrounded by old technology. No hair dryer, heated pipes for the bath, stained windows, the smell of old wood, it's not current trends. Perhaps this place prefers the older times, but the accent, the outfits...

No, you're getting distracted. You need to get home, and you should start by heading back from where you came from. Or is this just a very realistic dream? You would normally wake up the moment you recognized you were dreaming, but this time you stayed in this fictional world.

One thing was sure though, you were not putting that dress on. It was beautiful yes, but too many layers. It had a corset much too small for your body and was unnecessarily big. After some digging around, you found outfits that were similar of that to that maids. It would be much easier to walk in, and put on.

You dried your hair as much as you could before brushing it out with a long toothed comb. There was some make up on the dresser as well, you touched it curiously. It definitely was old, the style, the smell. You decided to not put any on, scared of the chemicals it may have.

When you opened the door, you were in another room. A bedroom. You gasped, if you thought the bathroom was huge, this was gigantic. A big, red, plush bed in the middle, a fireplace from where you were exiting was lit, a long window on the right, and an even bigger dresser on the left. It was straight from a fairy tail.

Now you understood why the dress was so big, so grand; Because this entire mansion was lavish. You were given that dress to fit the aesthetic. You walked around the room, unsure if it was even the one you were temporarily given.

You made your way to the window, your hand touching the cold glass. You looked down, seeing the cage they ladies had told you to not look at. You saw the...beast...huddled in a corner, conserving it's warmth. You pouted, feeling bad for this pure black creature. It was hard to make it out, but it looked like it was enveloping itself in wings.

"That's a big ass bird," you mumble.

Knocking at the door startles you, turning your head to see who was opening the door. You relaxed when you saw one of the ladies who was attending to you in bath.

"Miss, it is time for- What! Oh no dear, that is not what you should be wearing," she promptly shuts the door, speed walking to you."This is completely unacceptable. If the Lord saw you think this..." she trails off. She hurries to the closet you hadn't noticed, swinging its doors open.

"Yeah sorry," you apologize, "I didn't think I would feel comfortable in that dress so I put this on instead." She ignored you, rummaging for something that you can wear.

"You will be in the presence of the Lord of this house, miss," her tone is clipped, "I understand you are not from here, but he is someone of power. I assume even a place where you're from would have someone power?"

She doesn't bother to wait for you answer, instead pulling a golden color dress out. It's doesn't look puffy at all, instead like an easy slip on. It glitters in the light, you notice a slightly deep v-line. The maid gently places it on the bed.

"Put this on miss. I will be outside your door, please dress quickly," and with that she leaves.

You take one more glance outside the window and make your way to the bed, reaching for the dress. It really is pretty, and it's long enough to have leg room, but not enough to have you trip. You nod, satisfied with this dress.

You slip into it, feet first. It goes over you easily, and you reach behind to tie it together. It proved harder than you thought and you struggle horribly. You pace around the room trying to lace the string though its holes, facing the window as if the scenery will help.

You let out a loud, frustrated groan. The bird in the cage jolts, and your eyes widen. Did it hear you? You watch as it lifts its head up, looking around until it meets your eyes. You gasp, looking into its black, human-like eyes. You stumble backwards with a hand covering your mouth, what was that?

"Miss?" The maid reappears, probably from hearing your frustration.

You close your eyes, your head is playing tricks on you. You're in an unfamiliar place and your brain in panicking, unsure of how to take in its surroundings. Plus the bird was far away, you could be mistaking things.

"My dress," you choke out, "I can't do the back."

Wordlessly, she goes behind you, tying the the back of the dress in a criss-cross manner. Your heartbeat is wild, loud in your ears and throat. You're suddenly remained of how utterly lost and alone you are, no longer interested in playing pretend. You sniff, tears softly falling down your face.

The maid notices this, she gently pats your shoulder. She turns you around and wipes your years with her thumb, smiling softly at you. "I'm so sorry that you are lost miss. Lord Lukas is a very powerful man and I'm sure he can help you. Do not fret please."

You nod, grateful for her encouraging words. "I just really wanna go home."

"And you will," she promised, "But I'm sure you're famished, let's eat first."

Lord Lukas was younger than you anticipated, less than 10 years younger than you. His parents died, leaving him with a massive fortune and to carry the legacy of being a monster hunter. He loved talking about himself, you had only managed to tell him your name and how you got lost.

If you shut off your brain, it was easy to accept that you had somehow teleported to a different world. You didn't want to think about it too much, how there must be millions of different worlds and millions of portals to them. You were the unlucky soul that stumbled upon one, and you needed to go to the right one to get home. See? Wasn't too hard to understand if you didn't think too much about it.

You poked at your food, your appetite was nonexistent. It looked good though, cooked meat with boiled veggies and unique looking rice. At least you think it's rice. The man siting across from the table was still stuck on how you ended up here. Portals were thought the be a myth, yet here you are.

"So you're just looking for a family?" He asks, shoving a broccoli in his mouth. "Yes, my family," you stress. You briefly met his eyes, they were a light green. He smiled.

"And you said you were near the sea when this happened?" You nod. He hums, "I've always wanted to visit the sea. I've only seen pictures and I think it's quite beautiful." "Yeah it's nice," you agree, "The sand gets annoying though.

He laughs softly. He leans forward, eyes going down to your cleavage. You grimace. It doesn't matter what title a man has, he will always be a pig.

"You smell like lavender," he notes, "I love that smell." You laugh awkwardly, "Uh, yeah the girls had good soap."

"So," he says, eyes never leaving yours, "you're with your family when you stumble in a cave, appear here with no idea of how, and now you're at my place, lost. Looking for refuge?"

"Yup, pretty much," you nod. "But I dont need...refuge. I just need to go back home. I don't know what being a monster hunter means, but you must know about fantasy things like that. I don't have money to give but I went to school and-"

He starts laughing, hysterically actually. The words in your throat get caught, and you're replaying what you said in your head to see what was so funny.

"Unbelievable! You're a a great jester I give you that," he says, wiping a tear from his eye. "You don't need to lie, sweetheart. I don't know who put you up to this trick, but it's quite admirable." He stands and walks around the table so he's behind you. You stiffen, head turning so he never leaves your sight. "What are you taking about?" You ask.

"Many know that I am without wife. I've heard the complaints of how they worry about who will carry the monster hunter title, about who will inherit my fortunes. You are lost? No family? With no way back?" He laughs again, "It's a very intricate plan, and I'm almost impressed with how well they know what I fancy most in a woman."

He leans down in you ear, breath disgustingly hot, "I suppose you're hungry for something else. Yes?"

His hand appears on your shoulder, trailing down to your breasts before you shove him off. You stand from your seat, chair falling from how forceful your movement was.

"The fuck?! Don't fucking touch me!" You yell. You grab a stake knife from the table and hold it, aimed at him. "I don't know who you are and I don't give a fuck! I'm not going to play dress up anymore, you sick fuck."

Lukas raises his eyebrows, surprised by your outburst. He smooths a hand over his face and smiles again, "Did they also tell you that I enjoy the chase? I love it when they fight back."

His words send a chill though your body, you nearly gag. "You're sick. Stay the fuck away from me."

His smile widens more, "And I just adore your accent, I wonder how it will sound when you submit to me."

You run with the knife in hand, choosing to go out the back door rather than the front. The sun is setting, giving the snow a pretty pink glaze color. You would admire it if you weren't being pursued. Lukas is fast behind you, but if you manage to make it though the clutter of trees, you might have a chance.

No one is outside, no one was at the dinner. Did he send them away so he could have you alone? Did he plan this out?

You yelp when you're tackled into the snow, face first. The knife falls out of your hand and you're left defenseless. He yanks your hair so your head is up, he presses a knee into your lower back. "You're a lot faster than I anticipated, but no matter."

You trash in his hold, but he only digs his knee deeper into you. You cry out in pain, hands scratching at what you can manage.

"Gosh you are so full of energy!" He exclaims. "Keep this up, you will tire in no time."

He maneuvers you so you lay on your back, but this gives you more room to kick and hit. You do manage to get a few good punches in, but he grabs the top of your head and slams you into the ground. Your head rings from the impact, a groan leaving you.

"You...dick..." you strain out, spitting salvia in his face. He puts all his weight on your stomach, hands gripping your throat. He lifts one of his hands and backhands you, you head harshly turning to the right. Then you see the cage, it's no less than 20 feet from you. The bird is still huddled in its corner, but its eyes peer to you. The poor animal has been out in this snow for who knows how long and it's still alive. For some reason, it gives you strength. Despite the tears in your eyes, you see the glint of you knife. Lukas's hands violently tear at the top of your dress, trying to rip it.

For a moment, just for a moment, he loses his grip on your throat. You take this opportunity to headbutt him right on the nose, and you hear a satisfying crunch when you do. His hand cradles his broken nose, and you strike him with the heel of your palm while he was stunned. You manage to get half his weight off you and you reach for the knife.

He sees this and grips your hair again, but it's too late, you've already grabbed it. You turn and stab him in the neck, surprised by how how hard it is to sink in. You pull the knife out and stab again hard, blood spraying on your face and fingers. He cries out, hands grasping yours to pull away. His eyes meet yours and you see it, fear. Genuine fear that makes the hair on your neck stand. With a cry you took the knife out and stab a third time, this time digging so deep your fingers could feel the insides of his throat.

He gurgles, blood pooling from his mouth and neck as he opens his mouth to speak, but you drop his body on the ground before he gets the chance to. You sob wrecks through you, you hadn't notice the tears running down your face until now. You were wailing, weeping from your dire situation and the dying body next to you. In the movies, they had died so quick, almost gracefully. But this was messy, blood was all over your dress, hands, the knife, the snow. His hands were weakly trying to cover his wounds, to stop the blood from flowing out.

You needed to get out of here, it was only a matter of time before they came looking for Lukas. Or his body at least.

You stand on your shaky legs, wiping your tears and keeping a steady hold on the knife. 'This isn't real," you tell yourself. "You're fine. You're alive. You'll be okay."

You look up and see that you facing the cage, but the bird is no longer hunched over. Though the cage is much too small for it to stand, it crouches eyes trained on you. It's no bird, not with a human body like that. Its skin is pale, nearly grey with a head a black hair. It's nails are inhumanly long, its feet shaped like a birds. It's wings are cramped, tightly tucked beneath its back. You could still see it's dark feathers, and the tail that swishes unsettling. It could pass for human if you ignored its pitch black eyes. You knew for sure it was a male, it wore no clothes despite having a similar male anatomy.

It looks like a nightmare, but more human than the corpse behind you. Its eyes look at you then the lock, signaling you on what it wants. Despite everything you laugh. This monster had seen you fight for your life and all it asks if you to free it.

"I don't have the keys," you say, though you know it can't understand you. Its eyes flicker to the man you killed, then to the lock, then at you. You shiver, it can understand you. You look behind you and shudder, you had killed someone.

"Are you serious?"

It doesn't respond, instead shifting anxiously in its cage. Who knows how long it's been in there, in the cold. You let out a sign, rubbing your face. You know you're smearing blood all over yourself, but you don't care.

You turn to the body, reaching for keys. You keep your eyes closed, instead feeling around for the item. Finally, you feel a bundle of metal in the pockets of the dead man, pulling them out. It's a hoop of keys that jingle in your hands, and the beast behind you clatters in excitement.

You stand and head to the cage, grabbing the lock. There must be around 10 rings on this key holder, and you're not sure how long it will take to try them all. The first one is a no go, no even fitting in the hole. The second one fits halfway, and no matter how deep you tried to shove it in, it just wouldn't go in.

The human-like monster inside the cage paces, obviously anxious about being free. You were trying the third one when you could hear shouting from the house.

"Where is the Lord?" "Shouldn't he be done by now?" "Go look for him!"

The beast and you lock eyes. You don't know if you have the time to open his cage, and he knows it. But the way it's looking at you, so much hope and pleading, you feel a pang of guilt.

"I'll keep trying okay? But don't expect me to get captured for you okay?" You go back to the task at hand, the third one did not fit. Your fingers start to go numb from the cold, it takes a while for you to fit the 4th key in. Though it manages to slide in, it doesn't turn.

"Fuck," you whisper, struggling to grab the fifth key. Then you hear the door swing open, and 4 men tumble out. "Hey!" One of the shouts, and you whimper. The beast gets close to your face, eyes never leaving you. It's a silent plea, just try one more key. You should go, you should run, but you don't.

You shakily shove the fifth key in, ignoring how close the sound of running is getting. It turns, and grants you a soft click! "Holy shit, it's op-"

You yelp, hair being yanked back from the cage. The man who has you hostage is angry, eyes bulging from his sockets as he regards you. "You whore! You damned heathen!" You throws you harshly on the snow, your fingers numbly try to grasp anything, but it's so hard to move them.

"Captain. He's dead," one man says, next to the body of your assaulter. While a 2 men attempt to revive the body, the other two draw their weapons. "You fool! Do you know what you've done?!" "A stupid whore like you could have never killed a man. Who were you with? What did you plan? Where is your-" The captain is cut off quickly by a screech.

You hear the slash of flesh, blood spreading on you. The captain stands as he clutches his stomach, entrails exposed to you. Before the man beside him can react, he's grabbed and yanked into the sky. Your eyes follow up, watching as the winged beast takes him high into the clouds before he dropped him. His body lands 10 feet away from you, a nasty sound emits as his body snaps.

You scream, covering your face and head to shield your eyes. You put yourself face down into the snow, trying to ignore the sound of men screaming and flesh tearing. Your body is shaking from fear rather than cold. You don't know what type of monster you let free from its cage, but it's certainly out for revenge.

Finally it stops, but you can't stop sobbing. You didn't want to kill anyone, you didn't want anyone else to die. You just wanted to go home. You wish you were taking those stupid fucking pictures instead of enduring this fantasy nightmare.

The sound of feet crunching gets your attention and it stops right in front of you. You slowly lift your head up, quieting your sobs as you recognize the bird-like feet in front of you. Your head keeps going up, finally seeing the beast stand bare in front of you. You sniff and stand, surprised by how tall it is. It's taller than any human man, that's for sure. You barely reach its torso, needing to look up to see its face.

It leans down, and you gasp when a snake like tongue darts out of its mouth. It tastes your face, touching he tears and blood that stain it. It puts its tongue away and swaps it for another, a much bigger and thicker one. You close your eyes as it licks your cheeks, collecting the saltiness. You let out soft whimpers while it cleans you, hand softly gripping your chin so it can tilt your face in his direction. When he's satisfied, he grabs your hands. He brings them to his face and he licks your fingers, drinking the dried blood on them. It purrs at the taste, greedily taking it all.

Once he's done you open your eyes, gently pulling away from him. Its wings spread out from him, larger than any bird you've ever seen. Each wing is longer than his height, covered in dark feathers. You take a step back, finally looking at him at his full height. He still looks like a nightmare yes, but so beautifully scary.

"I need to get home," is all you say. You know it can understand you, perhaps it was trained by humans. "I don't know where I am or when I am? Oh god what am I even saying." You bury your face in your hands. You're going to cry again.

A gentle hand finds your shoulder, another gently pats your head. "You will be okay, human." You gasp at its voice. It's so deep and slightly scratchy, as if he hasn't spoken in a long time. You look up at it, mouth agape. "You can speak?" You muster.

It's face does not change, only giving you a simple nod. "You will be fine, but first we must leave. You have killed a Lord, and I his guards. You will be safe, but not here. Come."

It reaches its clawed hand at you, waiting for you to take it. You look at the hand then at the house. Should you trust this creature and leave with it? Or go back the way you came in a place you're completely unfamiliar with? A rock and a hard place.

You look at it in the eyes, searching for any indication of what it wants, but it just stares back. You notice you can see some white of its eyes, his pupils must expand exponentially when he's full of adrenaline.

You let out a shaky breath and grab his hand, "Guess we should go then."

a/n: this is the first chapter! this story is still in the works but I think im on the last chapter! ill post the second chapter tmr or something

#smut #monster #monster fun #monster fic #demon oc #demon smut #monster fucker #tw monsterfucking #monster smut #monster x human #teleportedintoanewworld #chapter 1 #chapter update #series #story #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

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ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 5 months ago

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Someone You Can Build a Nest In was, in fact, pretty good, but it went in a different direction than I was hoping for and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

The story follows Shesheshen, a solitary shapeshifting monster who hunts the travelers and merchants that pass through her territory, along with the occasional monster hunters who come to slay her. She is rather lonely, and reminisces fondly and lovingly about her mother, who was slain when she was young, and her father, whose body she grew inside and who she ate her way out of when she was ready to be born. On her hunts, she keeps an eye out for someone who might make for a similarly loving parent to plant her own eggs in. After a close encounter with some hunters while in a roughly human shape, Shesheshen is nurses back to health by a kind woman who has mistaken her for human, and promptly falls head over heels. Before she can get around to explaining her true nature and enquire about how her newly beloved would feel about being a parent, they are both drawn into a new and concerted effort to hunt down the local monster - Sheshen herself. Hijinks, of course, ensue.

The thing that immediately captured me when I started reading was how well the narration captured Shesheshen's fundamental inhumanity while still making her layered, complex, and intelligent. Her visceral emotional reactions are shaped by her biological nature as a predator, and these emotions lead to distinctly inhuman values and morals - Shesheshen places no intrinsic value on human lives and feels no compunctions whatsoever about eating sentient people. Her love and lust are consumptive in nature, and she romanticizes this. The fact that she cannot have her cake and eat it too is something she has difficulty dealing with. But she's also capable of a great deal of sympathy and empathy for specific humans, and the love she has for the father she ate causes her to care a great deal about consent - she doesn't want to consume out of love someone who doesn't want to be consumed.

In addition to her psychology, Shesheshen's physiology is also excellently inhuman and conveyed in great visceral detail, and the way her body functions is very interesting. My favorite parts of the book are the introduction and the denouement, because these are the areas where her psychology and physiology receive the most undivided attention. They aren't ignored throughout the rest of the book by any means, but they take a backseat to the plot, which is why I feel a bit conflicted about the book as a whole. I was really enjoying the in-depth character study of the introduction, and would've really liked to have the whole book be in that vein.

The plot, to be clear is not bad - it's honestly quite good, and it delves heavily into themes of generational and familial trauma, self-sacrifice, the normalization and romanticization of profound harm, and the difficulty of growth and self-actualization, all while being fairly entertaining and well-executed as a story. I think its themes were a bit heavy-handed in places, and I think some of its exploration was hobbled and flattened by the book's queernorm setting, but I won't relitigate that old argument here. It was suitably gripping and solidly entertaining.

I think the central relationship was solid and compelling, though again, I would've liked it more if the whole book had been focused on a deep exploration of their characters and dynamics. There's a lot of rich ground to the basic premise of "monster falls in love with human, wants to express that love in a way that is actively dangerous/horrifying to the human, doesn't know how to talk about it", and the story layers additional complexities onto that dynamic that are very compelling, but for as much of that interesting ground that the book explored, it left plenty more untouched. One detail that I did find both novel and enjoyable is that both the love interest Homily and Shesheshen herself are all but explicitly sex-averse asexuals by human standards, which is something I have not encountered in a lot of media. The exploration of that experience is not particularly deep because, again, queernorm, but it is present and it was compelling.

This was a really unique and compelling read, though, and I expect it to be one that stays with me. Given my own interest in body horror and inhumanity (shameless plug for Memoirs of a Flesh Eater in the notes), I wouldn't be surprised to see some influences from this book in my own writing going forward.

On the whole, I definitely enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend it, but not without a few warnings. Body horror is a constant element in this book; Shesheshen's shapeshifting is purposely off-putting, and she eats people. This is described in substantial detail. Also, there is a lot of parental and familial abuse depicted, much more than you would expect from the basic premise, so go in prepared. On the other hand, though, if you're looking for a true gothic horror tragic toxic doomed romance or a heavy character study that really plumbs the depths of an inhuman psyche, you will probably be frustrated by how close it comes to being that without actually being that.

#the wlw review #someone you can build a nest in

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ghosthoard · 4 months ago

Text

PART 3

parts 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

CW: animal preparation for consumption

“It’s lunchtime.”

Goddesses, it was only lunchtime. This morning there had been nine of them, this morning Wild had cooked them breakfast and laughed when Wind was told them all a stupid story about getting his butt stuck in a bucket, this morning there hadn’t been months of torture between him and them.

Right now (and from then on), there weren’t nine of them. There were eight heroes, two who were glaring at him for suggesting that they do something necessary like eat in front of the starved corpse of their brother.

To starve Wild— who loved to cook, who loved to eat, who loved to feed others —Warriors tamped down that rage, there was nothing he could do with it at this moment.

With Time and Twilight grieving, Warriors needed to be the practical one.

“How could you even suggest food right now?” Legend lashed out.

“I’m not eating anyone else’s cooking.” Wind crossed his arms.

“I don’t think I can stomach anything,” Sky said quietly.

“We have to try.” Warriors ignored Wind’s scowl. “Does anybody want to volunteer to cook?”

The members who had joined before Wild felt the callous déjà vu hit them square in the chest. A before and an after— which contained the same absence but permanently, painfully different. Asking the group who wants to try cooking, the silence as they all avoided eye contact, unenthusiastic about being the one to attempt the task only for the result to be bland or too salty or downright dangerous. How did they ever survive without Wild?

“I… I have a recipe of his written down.” Four had a small smile on his face as he dug in his pack for his journal. “He made this amazing pilaf, you know the rice dish with the carrots and chicken, once I had a taste I knew I couldn’t live without it again. I had to work really hard to earn the recipe for it.” He chuckled, opening the journal to the right page. “He managed to teach me most of the steps. I still never managed to make it taste exactly right but Wild said—”

Four drew in a shaky breath and bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes glistened like rubies. He sniffed, composing himself before continuing more quietly, “Wild said he was proud. He promised to teach me the secret next time we practice.”

Sky placed a hand on top of his shoulder. “We’d be more than happy to see the results of your training, Four.”

Four gave his brother a grateful look.

“I can help!” Wind said, his usual, bright grin returning in almost full force.

Four nodded, looking excited. He turned around to where Twilight and Time were, “Wild, we need the ingredients!”

The smith froze. As did the others, all of them caught looking in the direction of the trio. Some had smiles—ones that had been made for Wild—slipping off their faces slowly in realization. Others completely shrunk down from their expectant postures. And the rest, ones who had mostly turned on instinct but knew grief and death intimately enough by now looked back away, for there was nothing there for them. Twilight and Time hadn’t moved at all.

Tears sprang up in Four’s red eyes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“I’ll go hunt!” Hyrule’s voice jumped in a bit too loudly. “Cuccos right? Or any poultry?”

“Y-Yeah,” Four said, pulling up a shaky smile onto his face with great effort, “we also need some vegetables, a bird egg, Hylian rice, and… goat butter.”

Warriors held back a wince. Butter wasn’t something they could hunt or gather. All of their food supplies were in Wild’s slate. Legend was fiddling with it absentmindedly on his lap. It only ever turned on for Wild.

His insides iced over. This meant they had no food. At all. Other than what measly rations they had in their packs, stuck who knows how far away from stables or towns in the middle of Wild’s Hyrule without their expert guide.

“We should all go foraging,” Sky’s voice cut through Warriors’s growing dread as he stood up. “We need to get firewood as well.”

“Food is a priority,” Warriors agreed. “I’ll stay here with Time and Twilight. The rest of you bring back whatever you can and meet here before dark. Stay close. We don’t know if the yiga are still around.”

It took them the rest of the day to hunt and forage and everybody returned right on time, seemingly not wanting to be separated more than they needed to be.

Time and Twilight were right where they had left them hours ago. Eventually, Warriors will have to insist they take up their regular chores again, more for their benefit than anything else, but for now, they deserved the time.

A fire was started, and after another painful hiccup where they realized that Wild had been the one with the pot, Legend brought one out from his pack after some digging. Warriors and Hyrule worked on skinning the five birds and seven fish they had brought back while Four, Wind, and Sky worked on their meal.

The work was familiar and methodical. Warriors and Hyrule defeathered the birds and descaled the fish in companionable silence. A calm settled in his whirling mind, his attention narrowed in on the present task, and he couldn't have been more grateful for the moment’s reprieve, where there was nothing beyond here and now.

A small sense of pride warmed his chest at seeing Hyrule’s clean, confident cuts. Hyrule hadn’t been as skillful as he was back when they all first met. He hadn’t had enough animals to practice skinning, and he hadn’t been taught the correct way to do it in the first place during his era, so Warriors, Twilight, and Wild had taken turns teaching the traveler how to handle mammals and birds, while most of them took some lessons on how to skin a fish from a haughty Wind.

It was always rewarding and fun to trade skills and give tips within the group. There was always something to teach and something to learn. With a group like this, varied in experience, trades, and whole eras there was always something interesting to share.

Wind loved to boss them around teach them how to sail ships, Sky was always ecstatic to show them how to fly on a loftwing, Legend was eventually bullied into teaching some of them a new language, and Four would force them to learn proper weapon maintenance.

Wild had given up pretty early on to teach them to cook, and none of them were too worried about learning how when they were spoiled with his meals.

Four had been smart to ask Wild to teach him knowing they would all be separated one day… Though Warriors doubted this was the type of separation he was considering.

A nudge on his shoulder pulled Warriors out of his head to realize that he had stopped moving. Beside him, Hyrule was giving him an understanding look.

Warriors cleared his throat and shook off the rest of the rumination he’d fallen into, throwing his brother a signature grin. “Sorry about that. Got lost in thought. Let’s get back to it.”

He felt Hyrule stare long enough for Warriors to start working for a few seconds alone before rejoining him.

This time, the task truly gave Warriors a peaceful, blank mind and they were almost done when approaching footsteps entered their bubble.

“How are we going to store that?”

He looked up to see Legend standing over them, his sharp eyes going over the work they had already done. Wild’s slate was resting between his hands.

“We’ll have to cook it all. Maybe make some rice balls for something quick.” It was Legend who had had the foresight to find a field where he was able to cut and collect bushels of Hylian rice. There was already another fire going below a second simmering pot (another one of Legend’s, the hoarder), filling the area with the smell of cooking rice.

Legend nodded his approval. “It’ll be gone soon anyway with how many mouths we have. We should get used to hunting for every meal now. Gotta make some sort of rations for when we go to places where food is scarce like our deserts and winter mountains.”

“Yeah, I was thinking along the same lines,” Warriors said.

Legend tapped his fingers along the back of the slate. Warriors waited, knowing that look—where he looked slightly constipated and angry about it— meant his brother had more to say. More time passed with Legend doing nothing but tapping until Hyrule also stopped his work to watch his predecessor.

Finally, the tapping ceased and something like resolve shone frighteningly out of the vet’s gaze. “You know that crazy inventor girl Wild mentioned? Paya? Where does she live again?”

Warrior’s eyebrows flew up.

Hyrule openly gawked. “You want to try and open the slate?”

“Better.” The resolve had transfigured into a manic-like gleam. “I want to have it keyed to one of us. And I’m thinking it should be you, Hyrule.”

Hyrule’s face paled under the moonlight. “...What?”

“We already know it works in all of our Hyrules, everything except the map,” Legend continued. “After this journey, we’ll have to return to our homes. Your era is barren and if you had the slate you’d be able to keep food and water fresh forever. Not to mention the tricks it can pull off.”

“I can’t—” Disgust settled plainly over Hyrule. “That’s Wild’s. I can’t just steal Wild’s slate.”

“He can’t use it anymore. It’ll be more useful with you.”

“Vet—” Warriors tried.

“How could you even say that? How could you even suggest—” Hyrule’s hands started shaking.

Frustration tightened the edges of Legend’s eyes. “Would Wild want us to struggle or even suffer just because of some useless attempt to respect him?”

“Legend!”

Legend snapped his mouth shut and looked over at Warriors. The mania appeared to abate slightly with the realization of what he’d just said. Warriors relaxed his voice and gestured behind him with a tilt of his head. “Go help the others with dinner.”

Legend’s eyes flickered to Hyrule who was still shaking, then left without another word.

The calm of their task was entirely unsalvageable, it had been nice while it lasted.

Warriors turned to look at Hyrule. Anger was literally and visibly sparking and popping into existence like small fireworks around his brother as he tried to control his fae magic. Warriors watched as Hyrule’s face glittered with the sparks, putting into sharp relief the way his eyebrows were furrowed, and how his eyes glared at the space in front of him.

“Hyrule,” Warriors spoke up, “for what it’s worth, I think it’s a good idea.”

The embers flared and Hyrule turned his devastating, betrayed expression onto him, making Warriors’s heart twist. “Captain, you can’t mean that.”

“I know I’ve had a sleepless night or two wondering how we’re supposed to let you leave to your world alone after our first shift there,” Warriors pushed on, “I can only imagine how Legend must feel. Knowing you have the slate would definitely ease my worries.”

“I’ve handled myself just fine for years before meeting you guys,” Hyrule hissed. The embers sizzled and concentrated into small suns. “You can’t ask me to loot Wild’s body.”

“Wild would love knowing that something of his was helping you.”

Heat spiked, the little suns turned into a moon blue as Hyrule jumped to his feet to glare down at Warriors. The blood on his hands and the burning in the traveler’s eyes shimmered with the fire of his magic. “Well, there’s no way to know for sure what Wild would think, is there. If you want to have it keyed to someone it’s not going to be me. Ask Wind, I’m sure that’ll go over well.” He spun on his heel and started walking away. “I’m going to wash up.”

Warriors watched his brother go, disappearing into the dark of the woods towards the stream nearby. He sighed, and finished up skinning the last fish.

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#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu #lu warriors #lu fic #lu fanfiction #lu four #lu hyrule #lu legend #spookswrites #Please Perennial

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goodnightmemes · 2 years ago

Text

SUPERNATURAL SENTENCE STARTERS / SEASONS 4 - 5

❛ What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved? ❜

❛ You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in. ❜

❛ Destiny can’t be changed. All roads lead to the same destination. ❜

❛ I have questions. I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore. ❜

❛ The only reason you’re still alive is because you’ve been useful. But the moment that ceases to be true, the second you become more trouble than you’re worth, one word, one, and I will turn you to dust. ❜

❛ Who do I have to kill to get some French fries around here? ❜

❛ How I feel, this… inside me, I wish I couldn’t feel anything. I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing. ❜

❛ We’re all scared. That’s the big secret… We’re all scared. ❜

❛ If you think you have good intentions, think again. ❜

❛ It’s not blame that falls on you. It’s fate. ❜

❛ I’m tired of burying friends. ❜

❛ You ask me to open that door and walk through it…? You will not like what walks back out. ❜

❛ I’m sorry. This is a very serious, very emotional situation for you. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just that, I mean, are they serious? They sent you to torture me? ❜

❛ Oh, you’ll spill your guts, one way or the other. I just didn’t want to ruin my shoes. ❜

❛ Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things. Save people. ❜

❛ I can’t see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders. ❜

❛ You promised me my family would be okay! You promised you were gonna take care of them! ❜

❛ I gave you everything you asked me to give. I gave you more. This is the thanks I get? This is what you do? ❜

❛ Now for the punch line. Everybody dies. ❜

❛ Now I’m asking you, for once, trust me. ❜

❛ Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s, no escape. After all, how can you run from what’s inside you? ❜

❛ You don’t know me. You never did. And you never will. ❜

❛ Well, boo hoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! ❜

❛ Are you under the impression that family’s supposed to make you feel good, make you an apple pie, maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family! ❜

❛ We’ve been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted… to say, I’m sorry it ended like this. ❜

❛ What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here! ❜

❛ No more crap about being a good soldier, there is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it! ❜

❛ If there is anything worth dying for, this is it. ❜

❛ Well, can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. In this case, truckloads of eggs, but you get the picture. ❜

❛ Oh God. Is that a molar? I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day. ❜

❛ I’ve got no idea, but what I do have is a GED and a give-em hell attitude, and I’ll figure it out. ❜

❛ I’m hunted, I rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. ❜

❛ I lost everything… for nothing. ❜

❛ You feel bad now? Wait ‘till you’re thigh-deep in warm corpses. 'Cause my friend, I’m just getting started. ❜

❛ We’ve talked about this. Personal space? ❜

❛ I was dead from the moment we said hello. ❜

❛ Don’t you get it? You can’t run from yourself. ❜

❛ Same song, different verse. Things are never gonna change with you. Ever. ❜

❛ My heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you’ve done, what you still have to do. It is more than anyone could bear. ❜

❛ You’re not fooling me, you know that? With this sympathy for the Devil crap? I know what you are. ❜

❛ Whatever you do, you will always end up here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up…here. ❜

❛ Maybe we are each other’s Achilles’ Heel. Maybe they’ll find a way to use us against each other, I don’t know. I just know we’re all we’ve got. ❜

❛ You can do the right thing. You’ve got choices. But if you make the wrong ones, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life. ❜

❛ I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn’t. ❜

❛ You know, I’m starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke - protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. ❜

❛ I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow. But this is real. And it’s gonna end bloody for all of us. That’s just how it’s gotta be. ❜

❛ Now listen very closely. Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you! ❜

❛ Are you giving me the 'Last Night on Earth’ speech? ❜

❛ What a peculiar thing you are. ❜

❛ I still love him. But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to. ❜

❛ Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it’s not random. It’s not chance. It’s a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will’s an illusion. ❜

❛ I can see how broken you are, how defeated; you can’t win and you know it, but you just keep fighting, just keep going through the motions. You’re not hungry, because inside, you’re already dead. ❜

❛ We’re supposed to be a team, it’s supposed to be you and me against the world, right? ❜

❛ Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that… I got laid. ❜

❛ Well, we’re working on the power of love. ❜

❛ I love you, but you are a great big bag of dicks. ❜

❛ No one gives us the right. We take it. ❜

❛ If anyone gets to end this world, it’s me. ❜

❛ Before we get down to brass tacks, some ground rules: No slaughtering each other, curb your wrath. Oh, and keep your hands off the local virgins. We’re trying to keep a low profile here. ❜

❛ Get the hell off my property before I blast you so full of rock salt, you crap margaritas. ❜

❛ I don’t understand your definition of good news. ❜

❛ You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be. ❜

❛ You have an inflated sense of your importance. ❜

❛ To a thing like me, a thing like you, well… Think how you’d feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. ❜

❛ I’m old. Very old. So, I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you. ❜

❛ However you feel now, it’s only gonna get so very, very much worse… questions? ❜

❛ I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol. ❜

❛ You’re not a kid anymore, and I can’t keep treating you like one. Maybe I gotta grow up a little, too. ❜

❛ Come on, I’ve never lied to you, you could at least pay me the same respect. ❜

❛ We’re going to kill each other. And for what? We don’t even know the answer. Let’s just walk off the chessboard. ❜

❛ What would you rather have: peace or freedom? ❜

#rp meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #rp sentence meme #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #rp prompt #rp memes #inbox meme #sentence starter meme #*tv #*supernatural

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spaceless-vacuum · 2 years ago

Note

Hi my friend sent me the request you did for them. And I love it so much

Can I request yandere gagons for yandere links playtonic x baby dragon's female reader ( been playing tears of the kingdom. And you can ride and climb the dragons.)

Like the found the little reader coming out of her egg and is kinda different then the other dragons she More like a naga dragon looking one but is to cute

Please and thank you ( I didn't know if you do ganondorf's so I put links on there to if you can't do the ganondorf s have a great day

Oot Ganondorf was a powerful sorcerer who was born to the Geurdo and raised by two witches. He has stolen from everyone and knows no bounds and murdered people, nothing can or will stand in his way. When he first finds your egg he's more confused with what's inside. Will you even hatch?

He doesn't know the power he holds but he can’t tell from the moment he sees your egg that you're his. The rare object is his birthright. In his eyes and no one was going to stop him from keeping it.

After some research he found out he came across a rare dragon egg. One that hadn't been seen in centuries. Despite it being such a rare gift the limits and knowledge on you were limited. He had no clue what to think, what you could or would do, or even how to raise you. He thought about passing you along to someone else to raise but as he kept you close and spent more time with you the two of you began to imprint on each other.

He brought you with him to Hyrule as he swore allegiance and he often rants to your egg about news and how the days pass. His plots and schemes remain his to know about but he loves to just talk to you. Once you hatch it's after the young hero emerges from the woods but before he faces or challenges Link.

The serpent-like creature was too small and weak to care for itself. He took care of you. Keeping you close all the time (not that you would stand to be put down) he kept you with him hidden in his pockets. Sneaking your food during meetings. You ate fruits and meats most happily and he was glad to see you thrive even in these conditions. It would take awhile until you grew up but he had hoped it would be sooner rather than later. He had plans that needed to go underway soon.

Wind waker Ganondorf has this deeper character to him where he states his reasons for wanting to take over Hyrule is so he can give his people a better life. While i dont think this is actually the case, I think it stems more from the fact that he believes by some sort of bid he owns hyrule by right and can rule it better. What better way to take it all over than a dragon?

Flying through the air or swimming in the ocean either way will be a wonderful tool for conquering. At first when he finds the egg he assumes he'll use you like a tool the same way he does his bird. Once you hatch though he takes one look into those beady little eyes and realises, no… No, I can't do that to this creature. He does care for even his bird (he uses chickens hidden around the rocky shores of his fortress as enrichment and will throw the hideous creature people who cross him for food to hunt down) but he can't think of you as a tool. Not even as a pet.

You're intelligent, far more so than he would ever expect and you've… What's the word? Tamed? Imprinted? Like the rito- eh it doesnt matter.

He doesn't know how to care for you but you're very smart and intuitively the both of you work it out. As you grow older and his plans start to grow bolder as he starts to kidnap the maidens. He keeps you by his side for this. Planning to keep you safe and by his side for his final fight. Talking to you and keeping you safe as you grow older.

Totk Ganondorf would have found you while planning to challenge Raru. Leaving his kingdom to swear fealty also meant being able to travel through hyrule proper and taking claim to whatever he figured he might need. He found you hidden away in some temple and was skewed with jealousy. Raru never did know what power he wielded and this was just another show of it. Items of rare and extravagant power are best suited to those that would use them.

This man is tainted with hate and the moment he sees the egg he has his claws in you. Planning for what he'll do once you wake up. A dragon is a terrible thing to waste. He keeps you warm with blankets and hides you until he's back home. You sit still until it's time for you to hatch and he trusts few with the task of guarding you.

You're a very sweet dragon in comparison to his cool exterior. He only allows you to circle his keep and to go no further than that, lest you be discovered before he can put his plans into motion. When he goes to kill Sonia and enact his revenge he takes you with him. Hiding you in the room he killed the queen in so you may witness his rise as king in front of zelda and everyone else.

When he manages to slip away you dash after him, remaining out of sight. He also takes you with him to the keep that was made his tomb. He knows that as an immortal dragon you're doomed to stay alive all those years without him, and it stops you from running off. He impressions you with him.

Unless you showed absolute fealty, keeping you here with him is a mercy. Otherwise he'd have to hunt you down and corrupt you with malice and neither of you would want that. He believes in you to stay there. Staying asleep until he wakes up himself. After damaging Link and ensuring Zelda is gone he goes underground with you by his side. Waiting for the fabled swordman to challenge him; he plans to fight with you by his side.

#eye write #request #yandere ganon x reader #platonic yandere #platonic relationships #dragon reader #yandere legend of zelda #Ganondorf #oot ganondorf #totk ganondorf #wind waker ganondorf

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pjisskullourful · 1 year ago

Text

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 25 of ??? [parts 1-24]

NSFW 🔥 bigtime horny kitty energy, much dirtiness [⚠️potential trigger warning: body image issues]

° Damiano David/female reader insert

wordcount:: 12,602

° all of the requests!! a secret friend on here wanted shower sex, a reader on ao3 asked for thigh riding& an anon sent in: What do you think of the girlfriend being jealous of somebody going after/ flirting with Damiano? Given who he is I bet it would happen and I think It would be fun to see how you would play that out. Cause I can see Damiano being real cocky about his girl getting all possessive over him and then having some ✨fun time ✨ with her to show her she’s the only one for him 😍 [requests are open! but commisions are priority, secure the 5th spot in my cue here!]

° none of the lyrics included belong to me[×]

You paused from closing the fly on your high-waisted pants - you had been trying on the outfit you wanted to wear to dinner tonight, but something had caught your eye, distracting you.

A jagged, dark line reached up from just above the waistband of your underwear. This stretch mark was brand new to your eyes. It hit you like an actual wound, your mind racing.

As your throat clenched, you stopped caring about checking that your choice of outfit was cute or not. You hated this intruder on the side of your tummy. This new line was a failure on your part, maybe if you weren’t so lazy, or spent less time playing video games, you could have avoided gaining another mark in your ugly collection. You were frozen with the top of your pants in your hands.

How long had this mark been on your body? Had Damiano seen it - what did he think when he looked at it?

This was supposed to be a fun day - the day before Easter, and some friends of his were hosting a dinner that would end in an egg hunt through their garden. You were going to be meeting more of the people he had grown up with. But most importantly, you were getting to spend the whole weekend with him, there hadn’t been many of those so far this year. There was no Måneskin-business to take him out of the country, he was just your boyfriend this weekend.

You didn’t want to waste any of this precious time with your insecurities. You wished you hadn’t seen the line, because it hadn’t been as simple as noticing it. You were having a full reaction to it. The change of mood inside of you was almost a tangible sensation.

You didn’t know how to resolve it, you just knew that you wanted the unpleasantness to stop. Your solution was to physically move away from it. You undressed without completing the try-on process, so desperate to walk away and pretend this negativity didn’t exist. You just needed to refresh yourself and then you would be able to get back on the right track.

“I’m gonna have a shower.” You loudly announced without knowing if he actually heard you. He might be outside having a cigarette, or otherwise occupied too far from the bedroom.

You went into the bathroom and stopped at the vanity, pulling your hairbrush out of a draw. You took your hair down and started brushing through any tangles. Standing in front of the wide mirror, it wasn’t easy to keep your concentration on your hair. Your eyes wanted to wander, to find other flaws in the reflection to tear yourself apart over.

Until you were given the perfect distraction. Your boyfriend came into the room, his figure filling the reflection behind you. He was dressed in only a pair of underwear, wearing a festive headband on top of his short hair. It was enough to make you smile, even though you had to feign annoyance.

“Take those off.” You said as sternly as you could manage.

“You got it, baby.” He said, promptly taking his briefs off.

You were amused, even as you rolled your eyes. You turned your back on the mirror, more than happy to put all of your attention on him. “I meant the bunny ears and you know it.”

The fuzzy rabbit ears remained fixed on his head as he furrowed his brow. “I’m confused, do you want me to put the underwear back on?”

“Damiano.” You warned, but this only resulted in getting him to say your name back to you, in a sing-songy way, delivered with a positively devilish smile. “I never should have let you take the ears from my office…”

His eyes grew wide and he pointed an accusing finger at you. “You were the one who took them.”

You let this unserious discussion progress, exaggerating your shock. “How dare you accuse me.”

“No, how dare you. I was just there to pick you up from work. You were the one who pulled them out of the cute little window display and put them on my head.” He said.

“I didn’t think you were going to walk out still wearing them. And I was kind of distracted, I was working.” You added to his recollection. “Now, you have to take them off before they get stretched or broken ‘cause I’ve gotta put them back, they’ll probably be part of next year’s Easter display.”

He resisted, still. “I like them. You have to agree that they look better on me than they did in the window.”

“I agree.” You said. “Now take them off.”

The thing that was stopping you from simply snatching the accessory off of him, was the knowledge of how getting too close to him would change this situation entirely. He could physically overpower you in an instant and any illusion of you having some control would be banished.

“You can ask nicer than that, kitty.” He said, very clearly enjoying this teasing.

“Can you please take the ears off for me, please and thank you.” You said, even clasping your hands together in front of yourself to further sell it.

He cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t hear a single word you said. It’s kinda hard to hear you over all of those clothes you’re wearing.”

You reminded yourself how much you enjoyed being called a ‘good girl’ as inspiration to help you bite back any sarcastic comments. You even resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

You removed the two items that you were wearing - a bra and a pair of panties. You cupped your hands to either side of your mouth and spoke at a much higher volume. “Can you hear me now?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, did you have a request for me or something?”

“Can you please take those ears off for me, please?” You asked.

“Why, of course I can.” He said, plucking the accessory off of his head. “Here you go.”

You snatched it out of his hand, holding it securely in both of yours. “I’m gonna find someplace to hide these from you.”

“I can’t imagine why you would think that’s necessary. I’ll get the shower started while you do that, shall I?”

This made you pause from leaving the room. “Oh, you’re joining me?”

“Yeah, unless that’s not okay? I thought we should shower together, to save water.” He said.

You smirked. “To save water. Yep, that’s fine.”

You carried the confiscated item over to where you kept your work bag. It was enough to put it into your bag and shut the zipper. If he pulled it out of there he would be in the wrong - you’d both know it, and any argument would be in your favour.

When you returned to the bathroom, it was to find him standing under the stream of water. You were further distracted from your earlier issues as you admired how great he looked when soaking wet.

He turned his head and smiled at the sight of you, beckoning you in with a curling of his finger. You stepped in, sliding the door shut behind yourself. You shouldn’t have been surprised when he was instantly drawing you in for kisses, his hands cradling your face. There were times when the two of you could share a focused shower, spending as much time washing yourselves as you did making out.

But the look he had given you had indicated that this wasn’t the case for today. You linked your arms around his waist, indulging in this as the noise of the persistent water blocked out everything else. You felt how easy it would be to melt as his mouth worked tenderly against yours.

His hands left your face, slowly moving down to where the water had already reached. He started to kiss his way off of your mouth, his lips pressing against your chin before going lower. You couldn’t help arching your back into him as his lips worked across your throat. This was the closeness that you absolutely ached for when he was away, showers (like pretty much everything else) were so dull without him.

But -

“I need to wash my hair. This shower was supposed to have purpose.” You said.

He stopped what he was doing to look up at you. “Nobody’s stopping you from washing your hair. Look, I’ll even help. I’ve got lots of time to help with washing your hair these days.”

“I could return the favour and use my volumising shampoo on your hair.” You said of his well maintained buzzcut.

He wore a deadpan expression, blinking at you. “Hilarious. I swear, you’ve missed your calling in life. You shouldn’t be doing admin work- stand-up comedy, that’s where you should be. Netflix would give you a special so fast.”

“Because I’m a special girl.” You said as he let go of you to grab the shampoo bottle.

The intimacy wasn’t totally lost in this process. The two of you remained standing very close together (even though there was ample room for each of you in here) and you took every opportunity to touch him.

When he began to massage the shampoo into your scalp, you could have let out a moan of pleasure. You shut your eyes and soaked up every second of his attentiveness. His fingers slowly dragging across your scalp was the only thing that you needed right now.

“Stop making that face.” He said, his voice so stern that your eyes instantly snapped open, you were practically ready to apologise at once. “That’s a sex face and if you keep it up you’re gonna get me hard, which isn’t the purpose of this shower, right?”

You almost began giggling, you covered your face with both of your hands. “I didn’t mean to. I, I guess I was enjoying myself a little too much.”

“I’ll say.”

You parted your fingers to peek at him. “Did I really do a sex face?”

“Oh, yes. If you want me to get specific- it was your edging face. When I see that face I know that I’m doing it right and your brain is getting all empty.” He said before instructing you to tilt your head back under the stream of water.

As he rinsed all of the product out of your hair, you physically cringed. “Oh my God, I hope I don’t make that face when they’re washing my hair at the hairdressers.”

“Relax baby, I’m the only one who knows that face is linked to naughtiness.” He said.

You tried your best to stay in constant awareness, and control, over your facial expressions as he conditioned your hair. The lack of massaging on your scalp kept you from that floaty feeling.

“What do you think, is that up to your standards?” He asked, losing the careful look on his face that he had been wearing during this task.

You tested his work by running your fingers through the ends of your hair. “It feels perfect. Thank you, Daddy.” You reached out to tap the end of his nose.

“Okay, your hair is washed, what other purposes did this shower have?” He asked.

You smiled, your feet almost overlapping his on the wet ground and you wrapped an arm around his neck. "Do you want to see more of my sex faces?"

"Duh." He said, both of his hands going to your cheeks as he brought you in for kisses.

You wrapped your other arm around his middle, holding him close as you stood chest-to-chest. His fingers caressed your cheeks as his tongue slid back-and-forth along the seam of your lips. You endeavoured to get as much of your body pressed against his as possible. You relaxed your jaw, allowing his tongue into your mouth as you began to explore his body with your hands.

One of his hands left your face, meanwhile you were reaching between the two of you. You were half-anticipating where you would be feeling his hand next, but mostly you were concentrating on his little reactions as your hand travelled down lower.

You were interrupted, breaking the kiss with a gasp when the water hitting your shoulders became shockingly cold. The chill sank beneath the surface instantly and you were rattled beyond logic at first. Your eyes snapped open, searching for more information.

“Are you trying to get me out of the shower?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder to where his fingers were fixed around the hot water faucet, and he wasn’t turning it up. “Because you can just say if you don’t wanna fuck in here, I-...”

“No, it’s not that. This is gonna increase your blood flow, my fucktoy is gonna get more sensitive in less time.” As you listened to his explanation, it felt like the stream of water was getting colder still.

His hand left the dial and he held his fingers up, letting the water hit them straight away. “But if you don’t wanna fuck in here.” His eyes were set on you as he took his hand out of the stream, bringing it towards his body. “I don’t mind relocating, but I think you’ll find, if you trust me- you’ll find this very enjoyable.”

To correspond with this final word, he pushed his fingers in between your labia majora and an icy touch greeted your clit. Your gut twisted and your heart lifted as you tightened your arm around him. The intensity was immediate, making you feel as if your nerves were already on the verge of fraying as he started working the hood with his cold fingers. Your hand moved across the coarse hair on the back of his head as your eyes fluttered shut.

You couldn’t fill your lungs and you were too caught off-guard to form any coherent thoughts. “Hu-mmph…”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” He commented and you could hear the smile on his lips before you saw it.

He began to move his fingers up-and-down your slit. You gradually came back into yourself, regaining some scraps of control. You could form thoughts again, thinking beyond what he was doing with his fingers, thinking to his pleasure.

This time when you reached between your bodies, you followed through, not stopping until you could wrap your fingers around his stiffened dick. The way he was looking into your eyes seemed to egg you on and you started to stroke, slowly at first.

You were positioned more beneath the shower head than him, the driving water was impossible for you to escape. The cold didn’t just prompt dramatic goosebumps, it cut through any of the potential noise that could rise up in your mind. With your heart racing, you concentrated solely on all of these sensations, fully locked into the experience. It didn’t seem that he was going to move you out of the stream anytime soon, forcing you to embrace the way those persistent droplets made your skin sting a little.

Your nipples felt as hard as rocks when he closed his mouth around one of the peaks. The pleasure rushed through you, the strongest wave yet, which made your legs feel a little weak. You grasped to the back of his head, at the same time your other hand moved faster on his dick.

He traded off one of his hands for the other on your pussy, these fingers were freshly chilled and you let out another surprised gasp. You didn’t care about catching your breath, too preoccupied by delighting in every swirl of his fingers around your clitoris. The excitement crackled in the air all around you as he sucked on your nipple.

You arched your back to press more of your body to him, your needs growing. You rushed ahead, too eager to be content with more foreplay. Thankfully he didn’t subdue you, going along with it when you began guiding his dick towards your entrance.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you as you lifted a foot from the wet ground, spreading your cunt further and applying more of your weight to his body. You drew in a quick, shallow breath as his tip stretched your cunt as needed. In stark contrast to the water, a primal heat was born into you, radiating out from your cunt.

He transferred his mouth to your other nipple, heating you up here too. He wrapped his fingers around your thigh so that he could hold your knee against his hip. You were rocking yourself forward, his cock filling you as you sought more of his body to grind against.

He was short on breath as he looked up at you, watching how you continued to move. You bit into your lower lip, hoping that he wasn’t about to exert his dominance by making you stop, because this was starting to feel so good.

“Damn, you’re very keen to show me those sex faces, aren’t you babygirl?” He asked, his tone thankfully free of any disapproval.

“Yes.” You said over the continuous pelting of water on tiles.

“Show them to me.” He said, gripping your squishy thigh harder. “Show me.”

“Yes.” It came out a little less clearly this time and your eyes fluttered shut.

You stroked yourself up-and-down his shaft, working yourself into a pace that you hoped you could maintain. The water was freezing the bare skin on your back, but his body was heating your front and you lived in these oppositions. The cold made you more grateful for the warmth, made you keener to notice it in your body. You chased it with more determined thrusting, delivering your hips to his.

His lips left your nipple, ravishing your throat instead. You didn’t raise a complaint over the possibility of him creating a hickey that so many strangers would see, you were too locked into the good for that. And so was he, his moans vibrating against your skin.

His approval inspired you to gain more speed, caring less about how slippery the floor was. The concerns couldn’t stand up to how spectacular every collision felt, with your body crying out for more - always more.

A loud whimper ripped free from your throat in response to cold suddenly engulfing your nipple. You were surprised out of your momentum, even forgetting to breathe for a second. Your mouth hung open as you looked down and identified the cause, his freshly chilled fingers pinching either side of the peak. His eyes were on you, not missing a single reaction, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

As you were somewhat settling into this sensation, the intensity shot up by him fucking into you. Your mouth remained agape as he followed this with more fast thrusts. He was establishing a rhythm, one of his hands grasping your ass so that he could continuously bring you forward on his dick. His other hand remained on your breast, maintaining that firm, cold grip on your nipple, which had the potential to drive you crazy.

You let all of the desperation go straight to your head, wrapping your arms around him as your release became the only thing you cared about. You wondered if he would make you wait, the thought of that made your legs want to give out.

“Oh, Daddy.” You whined as you made the effort to move with him, your body filled with frenetic energy as you chased his tempo. “Fuck, Daddy, Daddy…”

Every clenching of your cunt had you plunging deeper into the pleasure, as every collision of your bodies felt more significant than the previous. The cold water slapped your skin relentlessly, competing for attention with all of these other grand sensations.

His breathing came in heavier-and-heavier, accompanied by the occasional moans as he refused to quit working you over. His movements were consistent as he got all that he could out of this angle. You clung to him, riding out every high that he gave to you.

Between your sensitive walls you could feel how swollen his driving cock had become. And soon it was leaking inside of you. At first it was a bit of extra warmth in your pussy. Then it was an unignorable rush that was coating you as his jerking got faster.

“Ah-hu�� uh, unf.” He gasped as he saw out the entirety of his orgasm deep inside of you.

You felt how he pulsed as you remained in motion. He released your nipple, just wrapping his arms around you to support you through your continuing rocking. As your eyes fluttered, unable to stay completely open, you saw how he watched you, taking in every facial expression that this sex was bringing out of you.

You reached your highest peak, slamming your body into him as you allowed yourself to come undone. You threw your head back, the stinging water hitting your face as you were stunned by your climax. The cold kept you from floating away, instead you were extremely conscious of how your body was being dazzled by this pleasure.

You felt the oxygen rushing through your blood and you were rejuvenated as you started to come down. You found yourself smiling, your earlier negative emotions couldn’t touch you in this state - you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a visible glow right now, you felt that good. And it was all thanks to your connection with Damiano.

“I love you.” You said, still buzzing even as your bodies started to separate.

“I love you too, baby.” He punctuated this statement with a quick kiss on your lips.

You planted your feet as firmly on the floor as you could manage. As he moved around you, you were again very grateful for the sight of him soaking wet. He manipulated the taps, bringing the hot water back in a way that eased any lingering tension out of your body, finally seeing the end of your goosebumps.

“How do you feel?” He asked as his eyes carefully surveyed your current state.

You pushed your dripping hair away from your face, gaining back more of your composure with every passing moment. “Great. Dirty, but clean. Did you enjoy my sex faces?”

“Always do.” He said and you got another kiss. “Now, one of the things on your menu is a shower. Is that what you wanna do for aftercare? Because I can just leave you in here.”

“Or, you can shut up and make me a cup of tea.” You said, which he went along with.

He left the bathroom behind, a towel wrapped around his waist. You were going to be in here much longer, plugging in your hairdryer. As you got to work on your wet hair, you could feel the bliss from your climax still simmering under the surface. Seeing your reflection, you weren’t focusing on any flaws because you had been granted a new energy, which felt like it could carry you through the process of getting ready. Earlier, this had seemed to be a taxing feat that would have to endure.

The steaming cup of tea was awaiting your arrival at your makeup table. You collected your mobile phone before going over to the seat. Checking the time on its screen made you worry a little, more time had been spent in the shower than you had realised.

You looked up when you noticed him coming into the room. “Is what we did in the shower gonna make us terribly late for this dinner?”

He considered the time displayed on the bedside clock. “No, we should be fine. Besides, I think what we did was very worth it, don’t you baby?”

“Don’t you dare distract me with a play-by-play, I’ve gotta do my makeup.”

*** *** ***

But he was wrong and you were late to arrive at the dinner party. Damiano tried to reassure you, telling you no one would mind that you were ‘fashionably late’.

But you worried about making a bad first impression on his friends. This only strengthened when it became clear that the rest of the guests had been waiting for the two of you. Almost every person assembled in Mia and Antonio’s dining room (and it was a sizable group) watched your delayed entrance.

Damiano was absolutely unfazed by this, swiftly making an apology to the hosts, which didn’t include placing the blame on you. Then, with your fingers interlaced securely, he made his way around the room, greeting people individually and introducing you. Even as they all smiled at you, you couldn’t help feeling like you didn’t know where you stood with these people.

Nathan quietly informed the two of you that you hadn’t missed anything important. Some gossip had been shared during the pre-dinner drinks, but nothing truly worth noting had happened.

Antonio announced that the food had been laid out in the kitchen and everyone was welcome to serve themselves, buffet-style. Before you or Damiano could make a decision of your next move, you were being accosted by a petite woman who carried the scent of a freshly-smoked cigarette with her.

“Oh my God, who let you in here?” He loudly asked as his attention went to this stranger.

“I could ask the same thing about you.” She said, stepping in close at once. “Give me a hug, you animal.”

His hand slipped from yours so that he could embrace her. The lack of distance between the two of them suggested more than just an acquaintance, but her face didn’t strike you as familiar from any of the childhood-cataloguing photo albums that his mum had shown you.

“How long has it been?” She asked, yet to notice you as she beamed up at him.

“Years.”

“Duh, Domino.” She said, giving his shoulder a playful shove.

You furrowed your brow, unsure if you had misheard her (with a house full of people, it was likely your hearing was slightly compromised). Or if she had seriously messed up the pronunciation of his name. His lack of reaction made you think the former was what had happened.

“But have an actual think about it. When did we actually see each other last?” She asked.

He gave this some consideration. “Was it Kesha?”

“It was.” She said happily. “That concert was amazing. I crowd-surfed that night.”

He rolled his eyes. “Convincing the drunk guys next to you to pick you up for a couple of seconds is not crowd-surfing.”

You couldn’t help clearing your throat. You didn’t like how you felt right now, waiting for somebody to notice you so that you could be acknowledged and included.

He instantly set about rectifying this, taking a step away from the enthusiastic stranger so that he could put an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry baby, I totally forgot my manners there. This is Andrea, she dated my brother in high school.” You extended your hand for a shake. “And this is my girlfriend…”

“Nice to meet you.” You said. As you shook her hand, it was hard to ignore the way that she still barely looked at you - apparently all of her attention remained on this little reunion.

“You too. It’s good to see the woman who’s crazy enough to think she can keep up with this clown.” She said - what the Hell did that mean?

“Hey, watch what you’re saying. I think you will find that it’s you who is the clown.” He teased.

Her comeback was delivered within seconds. “Classic thing for a clown to say.”

He didn’t struggle for a comeback either, it was as if the two of them had never fallen out of the habit of making fun of one another. As they joked, you had no idea how you were supposed to be contributing to this conversation. This only got worse when they began to refer to things you had never heard of. All that you could do was smile and hope you didn’t look as awkward as you currently felt.

You weren’t very fond of the way she repeatedly cut him off, talking over him so that her point could be reached first. He didn’t let this trip him up, but you were keeping a mental tally of it, even as you went on smiling.

After a while you were noticing more-and-more people coming to the table with plates full of food. You weren’t the only three not in the process of sitting down.

But you were getting bored of forcing a laugh whenever they laughed and the two of them weren’t slowing down. They kept talking without much pause, meanwhile your eyes were getting drawn back to the food.

You jumped on the briefest of lulls in their conversation, giving his hand on your shoulder a little squeeze. “I’m gonna get the food before the best stuff is gone. Did you want me to put a plate together for you as well?”

“That would be amazing, thanks babe.” He said.

You stepped away from them, hearing their chatting continue as you headed in the direction of the kitchen. There were a handful of people in this room, loading up plates, considering the food on offer or having contained conversations.

You collected two clean plates from the station and approached the food-covered counter. This brought you closer to where Mia was standing, allowing you to hear what the host was saying to Liliana.

“-never had them at any of your parties before.” Liliana said.

“We’re just trying it out to see if it makes things easier. This way we can make sure all the couples get to sit together.” Mia said.

“I get that. But what I don’t get is why you stuck Andrea down the end of the table.” Liliana said, and you felt compelled to listen more carefully now. “She hates not sitting in the middle. Do you really think she’s not gonna have a bitch and a moan about that before the party is over?”

You quickly looked up, seeing Mia make a face before you went back to adding sausages to Damiano’s plate. “I know, trust that I know. I’ve been friends with her longer than you, I’ve heard more of that bitching than you. But I put her where she demanded to be.”

“Demanded?” Liliana repeated.

“Yeah, she demanded that she get to sit next to Damiano.” Mia said - something about this statement didn’t sit right with you, spawning the feeling that you should put your guard up. Even if you couldn’t articulate why.

They kept talking, the discussion regarding the assigned seats at the table moving away from Damiano and Andrea. You concentrated on just picking which foods looked most appetising. You tried to not analyse what the women had said as you added generous servings to each plate.

By the time you reached the table (a steaming plate held in each hand), you found that Damiano was already seated. And beside him, still talking, was Andrea. You sat down on the opposite side of him, providing him with the selection of food.

He didn’t let this go unnoticed, instantly turning to give you a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best, thank you baby.”

“I did a good job?” You asked.

“Yeah, everything looks fantastic.” He said, picking up his cutlery.

You were interrupted from your second bite when Andrea got your attention by saying your name. “What do you do for a living, sweetie? Or are you a professional groupie?”

“I’m her groupie.” He said.

“I work in real estate, general admin stuff.” You said, knowing that she wasn’t seeking too much information.

She wordlessly stared at you, as if this needed a beat to be understood. “Huh…”

You showed an uneasy smile. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, of course it isn’t.” She said, her eyes mainly on Damiano again. “I’m just surprised. I was expecting you would be dating a model, or some type of influencer, at the very least. Wow, I know whose day at work gets talked about first.”

You dropped your eyes, the empty hand in your lap clenched into a fist. You wished for even a shred of his natural sass, because you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. You couldn’t express yourself, nevermind defending yourself.

“Oh I don’t know about that.” He said. “Parts of my job are pretty boring. Recording music is seriously tedious, there isn’t much about my day to tell if all I did was listen to the same eleven seconds of one song, trying to decide if the pitch should go slightly up or down. I would much rather hear about the stuff happening in her office. You genuinely don’t want to imagine all of the hours this poor woman has wasted hearing me do the same three vocal warm-ups.”

You reached under the table for his leg. “I’m just grateful you don’t do it in your sleep.”

He placed his hand over yours, his fingers moving to their familiar hold. He used his other hand to operate his fork and you started to eat more as well.

That surge of being embarrassed was easing off. But you couldn’t help feeling a little inferior. You supposed that the opinion of this woman seemed significant because she had been a part of your boyfriend’s family long before you. If you had been feeling more confident tonight, then her effervescence wouldn’t seem like such a threat.

You could feel relieved when she didn’t direct any more questions at you. You continued to be bothered by her habit of speaking over him. But with so many other people around the table, you didn’t struggle to find someone else to talk to and distract yourself. You got to know Nathan better.

After clearing his plate, Damiano wanted to go out to the yard to have a cigarette. Instantly Andrea was insisting on going with him. You tracked their movements away from the table, unshakably annoyed and hating every second of it.

You didn’t want to behave like an animal marking their territory. But a lull in your conversation with Gabriella saw you unable to resist the urge to make an excuse to leave the table. Your fingers were curled up, ready to tense as you walked out of the dining room, headed for the back door.

They were the only two people on the patio, cigarettes ablaze as they chatted. Actually, ‘chatting’ didn’t seem to adequately capture what you were seeing - it was Andrea talking. She was so animated and loud, dominating the space, dominating all of your boyfriend’s attention. And it made your blood run hotter than usual. There was something uncontrollable in you that was making your reactions to this woman stronger than usual. But you didn’t know how to make it stop.

And the elevated emotions dictated your actions. You left your subtlety largely behind, making your mind up to act without hesitation, without getting locked into self-consciousness.

You walked directly to Damiano’s side, snaking both of your arms around him as you stood as close as possible. You heard her continuing to talk, but he looked at you, an intrigued smile forming on his mouth. He began putting an arm around you as you moved in to kiss him.

She could regard your job as unglamorous if she wanted. But you were giving her the reminder that you had the guy she was so desperately trying to spend time with. He didn’t mind the public display of affection, kissing you back straight away. You doubted he would be bothered by this possessiveness. You had succeeded in shutting her up.

He was smiling as you separated and you gave a little giggle before speaking. “Sorry if I interrupted, I just really missed you, babe.”

“Missed me?” He repeated, eyebrows raised, but clearly not on the verge of discouraging you. “I haven’t been out here that long, have I? I swear this is still my first cigarette.”

You deposited your hand into the back pocket of his jeans. “I know. But I got to thinking about you. I was talking to Gabriella about TV shows and stuff. I told her how we’ve been watching Orphan Black for the first time. Which made me think about- but I didn’t say it to her- about how you really woke me up that time I almost fell asleep watching it.”

His eyes grew wide. “You didn’t wanna say it to Gabi, but you pretty much just told Andrea.”

“Coffee.” You said loudly. “He made me the strongest espresso known to man, and then he turned the volume all the way up. No one could sleep under those conditions.”

“Oh man, we used to have to keep you so far away from coffee, Domino. It was the worst combination.” She said and the apparent mispronunciation got your attention again.

“Yeah. Well it doesn’t quite have the same effect on me these days.” He said.

She looked at you, surveying you as she exhaled a column of smoke. “Do you wanna know what I’ve just noticed?”

No, your mind replied. And maybe in an alternate world, you would have let her see some of your attitude. You wouldn’t be held back by shyness and the constant need to be polite, and treat her how she had been treating you.

But you kept on smiling, tilting your head to the side in a display of curiosity as he invited her to elaborate.

“She doesn’t have a single tattoo.” She stated, pointing a finger at you. You felt like she had been watching you so carefully, looking for something to judge you over. “I’m in shock over here, I literally cannot believe you’re dating someone with no tattoos.”

“Wait…”

“Did Hell actually freeze over?” She joked, speaking directly over your attempt to respond.

Fortunately, she let Damiano talk. “No, she does have one.”

You held his body closer, stroking a hand across his chest. “We got tattooed together in Japan, when I was on tour with him.”

“Yeah, we got our dragons done by the same artist in Tokyo. ‘Cause why would we buy a typical souvenir from a shop?” He said and you could sense the pride in him even in this brief retelling of that day.

But she continued to be unimpressed, making a face that saw her gritting her teeth in an uncomfortable-looking manner. “Matching tattoos? Oh, you guys… I really thought you would have known about this, Domino. Matching tattoos are the kiss of death.” You couldn’t keep yourself from sighing, but she still had more to say. “It’s a curse, even in friendships. I’m speaking from experience here, a lot of experience.”

“What if we just don’t believe in curses?” You asked.

“It might just be an Andrea-thing, not-...”

His teasing was interrupted by the loud ringing of her phone. She frowned at him as she pulled it out of her pocket. Whatever she saw on the screen wasn’t good and soon she was scowling. She answered the call with a huff.

“This isn’t a good time, Darr-... what the fuck do you mean you’re at my place?” She started to stalk off.

Damiano waited until she was out of earshot to speak. “I guess that toxic ex of hers is out of prison…”

“Matching tattoos are a curse?” You asked, your jaw clenched. “Shall I call Ethan, Thomas and Vic to ask for signs of the curse since you guys got your matching tattoos?”

“It’s all bullshit.” He said with a shake of his head and having him on your side felt validating, it helped ease some of the tension.

“Is she saying your name wrong on purpose, or does she have a speech impediment that I should be more sensitive about?” You asked.

He furrowed his brow, pausing as he sucked on the filtered end of his cigarette. “You mean Domino? That was a name she and my brother came up with when I was a tween. I had lots of pimples, ‘cause puberty. And dominoes have spots, and they thought it was close enough to Damiano for it to be comedy gold.”

“That’s so mean.” You said, finding another reason to dislike her.

“It was a long time ago, you know how siblings torture each other.” He said.

“I guess.”

He turned to face you, wrapping both of his arms around you now. “So you missed me, huh?” You felt his hands sliding down your back, travelling towards your butt. “It looks like this yard is smaller than Ethan’s, so I don’t think we could get away with sneaking off for a fuck like we did at his housewarming party.”

“I’ll save the horny kitty energy for when we get home, then.” You said.

You didn’t worry about the damage to your lipstick as he moved in, seeking more kisses. You kissed him back, relaxing into the embrace. It was a nice break to not currently hear Andrea’s voice. There was nothing to analyse in this moment, you just enjoyed how his mouth naturally moved with yours.

Once he was finished smoking his cigarette, the two of you returned inside. Soon Mia and Antonio were getting all of their guests ready for the egg hunt portion of the evening. It wasn’t just their backyard that you would be searching - they had friendly and understanding neighbours that had allowed chocolate eggs to be hidden around their front yards. Those participating had agreed to leave porch lights on, signalling that it was okay to approach their homes. Not everyone on the street had joined and you were told no one would vouch for you if you got into trouble for climbing over any fences.

The search area had been divided up, with each team of two allocated a different section to investigate. Every section had the same amount of eggs, so everyone had an opportunity to win.

The prize had come from the speciality chocolate shop Mia worked at. It was a large (about eleven inches in height), solid, artisan Easter bunny. You had already secretly decided that Damiano would be eating it alone if you two claimed the victory.

You held the cute little wicker basket in one hand, holding Damiano’s hand with the other as you walked with the rest of the group. Before you could get shown to your allocated search zone, Andrea approached, a smug-looking smile on her face.

“I wouldn’t be feeling too confident if I were you, not with Domino on your team. That guy can’t find anything, he was always losing his phone, like it fell off the face of the Earth or something.” She said.

“Good thing that was a very long time ago.” He said.

Antonio pointed you to the front yard you would be searching. You and Damiano approached with the flashlights of your phone’s activated. The rest of the party moved onto the next participating house.

You found the first egg, its foil wrapping catching the light from inside the cylinder that was attached to the letterbox, designed to hold a newspaper. There was another one beside the base of a rose bush. He noticed one on the short staircase and upon going to collect it, he spotted a second egg behind the steps, reaching his hand into the gap.

He was looking up, amongst the branches of a tree when you heard Andrea’s far-off laugh. It prompted an instant reaction from you and you took this private moment to express some of the thoughts swirling in your mind.

“I don’t know how much more I can take of her calling you that.” You said.

He looked at you, brow furrowed as it took him a pause to figure out what you were talking about. It wasn’t even on his mind. “Oh, the whole domino thing. I wouldn’t let it get to you, kitty. After tonight, you will probably never have to hear it again.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t irritating at this moment. They used it to bully you, it’s not nice to keep repeating it.” You said. “It’s not your name.”

He had gone back to searching the tree from his viewpoint, looking for something that didn’t belong. “And yet, she keeps calling me that. It’s like she thinks I have a humiliation kink, or something.”

Your mouth dropped open and you stared at him, unable to believe that he had found a new way to make you uncomfortable in this situation. This wasn’t a perspective you had considered and you instantly hated it. He wasn’t on the same page as you, he didn’t know what you needed to hear.

You couldn’t think of anything to say. All you knew was that you wanted to get out of this situation - you were tired of the negative emotions holding you down.

He seemed to realise his error after a moment, looking at you with wide eyes. “That was the wrong thing to say. Why did I say that?”

“I don’t know.” You said and your hand on the basket curled into a fist.

He had pocketed his phone, turning to you as he spoke with an apologetic tone. “That was- I wasn’t thinking, literally. Literally that was just stupidity and the worst attempt at a joke, ever. If I could take it back… Let me take it back? Please, I didn’t mean anything-...”

You showed him the palm of your hand, succeeding in getting him to stop talking. “The toothpaste is out of the tube now, Damiano. And I’m gonna walk away.”

“No, baby, you can’t.” He said, but you had already started to back away. “Let me apologise.”

“Save it for later. Truly, I just need a moment to be annoyed. We can talk about it later, when I’m feeling less… just less.”

“What about the egg hunt?” He asked with a hint of hope.

You scoffed and decided to stop being so polite, you had done enough of that tonight. You didn’t care if this action made him call you a brat, you wanted to drive home the fact that he had aggravated you.

You tossed the basket into the air, the chocolate eggs going flying as you aimed for the branches of the tree. You spun around and started to walk away before you felt the urge to show him both of your middle fingers. You walked in the direction of Mia and Antonio’s house, your breath coming in quicker than what was normal.

Your thoughts were racing as you tried to make sense of this swell of emotions. Why would he think it was okay to talk about kinks in relation to another woman? It was the wrong time for you to accept this as a harmless joke. It fed into your insecurities, festering beneath the surface, instead of being shrugged off.

When you returned to the house, you delivered your cover story of needing to use the bathroom. After visiting the toilet, you forced a smile onto your face and threw yourself into socialising with his friends. Everyone but Andrea.

You didn’t feel much like talking to him right now, either.

*** *** ***

The car ride home was filled with a lot of talking. You couldn’t walk away from him now. Potentially you could have shoved your fingers in your ears and refused to listen to him.

But your irritation with him had settled down enough that you were willing to hear him out. And you didn’t regret it, because he was seemingly done with thoughtless attempts at humour.

He opened with an apology and again stressed to you that he hadn’t meant to upset you. You nodded along as he explained how he had been able to tell that you were uncomfortable so he wanted to make a joke to cheer you up. His intentions had been good, even though he had fumbled the execution. He assured you there was no hidden meaning behind his words, telling you how much he wished he could take it back. He promised to never make another joke like it and you appreciated his sincerity.

But you couldn’t immediately snap yourself out of the way you were feeling. These negative emotions wouldn’t be so easily left behind, they would have to be worked out of your system. Time and distance from the situation would help you.

Crossing the threshold into your home, all that you were thinking of was taking off your makeup and going to bed. Maybe you would be able to put a positive spin on this whole thing in the morning.

But you didn’t get very far. Damiano wrapped a hand around your forearm, bringing you to a stop before you could get to the hallway. Your jaw was clenched as you turned back to him.

“I thought you accepted my apology.” He said.

“I did, I do. That’s what I said, are you calling me a liar?” You asked, quickly finding your way back to being fired up.

“No, I’m not. I’m just trying to figure you out right now, kitten. I don’t understand your energy. If you accepted my apology, then why are you still cranky?” He asked.

You snatched your arm out of his grasp, you were officially done with holding everything back. “Because I am. You don’t get to control my emotions. You get a lot of control, over a lot of things, Damiano. And I’m not complaining about it, I am more than happy with our dynamic. But my emotions are one thing that you don’t get to control.”

“I’m not trying to. Please, can you tell me what’s going on?” He asked, he wasn’t elevating his tone to match yours. “I am so confused and I just want to help make things better, but how can I do that when I have literally no idea what’s going on?”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Alright, we can talk about it.”

“Great.” He said with a little sigh of relief, taking a step back from you. “I’m gonna sit down, you don’t have to join me, but I think it would help us if you did.”

You walked into the lounge room with him. With how seriously he was taking this whole thing, it seemed highly unlikely that he was on the verge of cracking another unwelcome joke. You tried to let your guard down, telling yourself that he wasn’t going to give you any more reasons to feel sensitive. You sat on the couch with him, allowing a gap bigger than what was typical.

“I’m not that- at least, I don’t think that I’m terribly mad. I’m just in… a weird headspace.” You said. “And I’m sorry for ruining your night, that’s not how I wanted the night to end. But I don’t think anyone there could tell something was off with us…”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I accept your apology, I do and I listened to every word of your explanation. But it’s gonna take, like, a moment or two for me to not feel gross about it. Because you literally picked the worst time to say it.” You said.

“But why? What made my timing so bad? It’s gotta be more than just the Andrea thing.” He said.

“I’ve not been feeling so good today, just a lot of insecurities, being loud in my head and…” You said, starting to lose your ability to look him in the eye.

“How could I know that?” He asked. “Baby, I’m gonna start calling you Meryl Streep, ‘cause you’re way too good at acting like everything is fine.”

“Really, you had no idea that anything was wrong? Not even when I came up and was being all jealous and rubbing myself on you like a damn cat trying to get their scent on something?” You asked.

“Well I could tell that you were feeling a little jealous. But, I don’t know, the results were kind of cute to me, so I didn’t put any thought into it. I just assumed it was a superficial, non-serious thing.” He said.

“I was already comparing myself to her, how could I not? She’s so much more confident than me and why wouldn’t she be? She’s thinner than me, she has a cooler, more interesting, sexier job than me.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know how sexy body piercing actually is. Punching holes in the ears of crying and restrained children- that doesn’t exactly sound like a picnic to me. Trying to keep people from fainting and cleaning up their messes after they don’t follow the aftercare instructions properly. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a straight-forward career like yours.”

“She’s known you longer than I have.” You pointed out.

“Yeah, as her boyfriend’s geeky, pimple-covered baby brother. I was always just a loser, wannabe to them.” He said.

“Maybe back then, but she demanded to sit next to you tonight.” You said.

He cocked his head to the side. “Demanded, what are you talking about?”

“I overheard Mia saying it, she was talking about how Andrea wanted to sit next to you so badly that she demanded it. And that was Mia’s choice of words.” You said. “Demanded.”

He paused, he was without an immediate solution for you. “Okay, she demanded to sit next to me. Are you sure that wasn’t just to catch up with me? I mean, it has been years since we last saw-”

You jumped up to your feet, exasperation taking dominance over your other emotions. “She was flirting with you all night, Damiano. All of that teasing- if we were kids on the playground, she would have found some mud to push you into to get your attention.”

He remained seated, still maintaining his calm (you envied the logic and clarity he seemingly possessed right now). “Was I flirting back? Sincerely, did I give her any of that attention back? Because I have way more than a lame joke to apologise for, if that’s the case.”

“No, you didn’t flirt with her, but that’s not the point…”

“Actually, I think you’ll find that is the point.” He said, a hint of sternness coming into his tone now. “Just because someone flirts with me, it doesn’t mean I’m enjoying it or wishing I could flirt back.”

“But people just feel so damn entitled to you. And they’re not even shy about it. How am I supposed to not get jealous? When I’ve already got a bunch of insecurities.”

“What insecurities are loud in your head today, kitten?” He asked. “I really had no idea that you weren’t feeling at your best.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You half-mumbled your response.

“Don’t freeze me out, please.” He said. “It’s so obvious to say, but I can’t fix a problem if I don’t know what it is. We’re a great team, aren’t we? Let’s face this as a team.”

You fiddled with your fingers rather than looking at him. “I don’t wanna make you listen to me complain-... one day you’re gonna get over my insecurities, you’re gonna get sick of telling me not to believe my thoughts.”

“That’s not true.” He said but you just shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, if you’re allowed to say that like it has any basis in reality, then I’m allowed to say this: someday you’ll get over having a boyfriend that forces you to deal with a partially-long-distance relationship.” This succeeded in getting you to look up, shyly at first. “You’re gonna realise that you can have a guy with a nine-to-five, a fucking sane career. A guy that can be in bed beside you every night. You’ll get sick of sharing me with my job and you’ll find a more reliable guy.”

“You are a reliable guy. And I knew what your job was when we started dating, I knew what I was signing up for. It doesn’t take away from how much I love you, loving you isn’t a conditional thing, Damiano.” You told him.

He nodded his head. “That’s a lovely thing to hear, thank you. So what you’re saying is that my statement isn’t true, right?”

“Right.”

“Kinda like what I said about your statement. Actually, that's exactly what I said.”

“So we just cancel out each other’s insecurities and everything is great again?” You challenged.

“No, I know that it isn’t that simple.” He said. “I know Daddy is supposed to have all of the answers, but I don’t have them for this. My best guess is that we help each other with our insecurities and we get through it together. That whole team thing.”

You sighed. “I don’t know how to just make my bad mood stop.”

“I don’t expect you to.” He said and he extended his hands out to you, beginning to bridge the physical gap between the two of you. “Please don’t take this as me trying to control your feelings. But I wanna take care of you, as your daddy. Would you let me be in charge again?”

You met and held his gaze now. You had been too frazzled to come up with any solutions for yourself and you didn’t even try resisting how good it would feel to reconnect with him. You took the small steps over to him and placed both of your hands in his. “Yes, babe.”

He straightened his back, coming up a little higher now. He put one of his hands to your cheek and you allowed yourself to be drawn in for a kiss. It must have been hours since the last kiss you had shared and you felt just how much of your body responded, instantly telling you that this was the correct course of action.

“I heard you out, so now I would like you to hear me.” He said, a deep look into your eyes making his seriousness inescapably clear. “I want to help you get out of those thoughts and calm down. So I think the best thing will be for both of us to take our pants off, you’ll take your panties off too. And then you’re gonna put your pussy right here-” He gave his upper thigh a little pat. “And you’re not gonna think anymore thoughts, you’re just gonna feel good and listen to me.”

You were already undoing the fly of your jeans, but you almost rolled your eyes. “You’re gonna fuck the bad mood out of me- that’s your angle?”

He was taking his pants off as well. “You act sceptical and yet you’re going along with it, you’ve got free will, you could walk away and call me a moron.” He threw his pants aside. “And I wouldn’t phrase it that way. I just think you need to calm down and making your pussy feel good is the first step in that. We don’t have to do anything too crazy, we can go at your pace and you can safeword at literally any second.”

You dropped your underwear to the ground, looking in his eyes as you tried to not worry about the visibility of those new stretch marks (the overhead light was on, there weren’t enough shadows for you to hide in, you had to get okay with that). “Yes, Daddy.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders, ensuring stability before you moved in closer. You lowered yourself down, bringing your bare cunt to his exposed thigh - you couldn’t deny that you were feeling the beginnings of that wet eagerness before contact was made.

“I love you.” He said, he had wrapped one arm around you, holding you securely as he wanted.

You continued looking into his eyes as he gently brushed your hair away from your face. “I love you too.”

His fingers rested under your chin and he moved in for a kiss. “I love all of you, okay? I love this mouth, even when it’s saying unreasonable things.” He kissed you on the lips, then the next kiss went to the centre of your forehead. “And I love this mind, even when it’s being mean to you, I’ll still treat it with kindness.

“And your body, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life enjoying this gorgeous package that my kitty comes in.” He said, holding you in a way that eased you closer to him, briefly dragging your cunt across his skin, in a preview of the friction to come. “I want to make you feel it. Because you’ve gotta know it, you’ve gotta know that there is no part of you that I will ever get sick of. Even the bits that you don’t like, I’ll love them extra until you do.”

You couldn’t think of anything to say, so you expressed yourself by giving him more kisses. You didn’t want to dwell in your insecurities any longer and those thoughts felt like they were on the verge of floating away. He had been right - with so much blood rushing into your cunt, those cyclical emotions were getting interrupted. Of course he had been right, but you weren’t about to stall this kiss by pausing to tell him about it.

Instead you sought to deepen the kiss, placing your hand to his cheek and tilting your head. His lips parted for you and your tongue sought a deeper taste.

In his embrace, you were partially calming down. But another part of you was just getting started and you couldn’t resist working your hips. Gently, you rocked yourself back-and-forth, not rushing into any rhythm as you figured out your range of movement. You tested how steady you were, enjoying the feel of his thigh more with every rub.

He put his hands to your hips, encouraging and guiding you through more measured pumps. Your tongue rubbed against the roof of his mouth and your fingers stroked his cheek as you enjoyed him beyond words.

You slipped into a momentum, a maintainable and promising tempo. As the tension in your body built, you settled more of your weight onto his leg, infusing a greater pressure into your cunt. He matched your passion with every kiss as you got his leg wetter.

He was short on breath when he broke the kiss. You kept your eyes shut, letting your head slump a little as you gripped the nape of his neck. You didn’t stop riding his thigh for a single second.

“God, you’re such a good girl.” He whispered. “Look at you go, you’re doing so well. Good girl, good-good-good girl. Do you notice how there’s only one good girl on that leg? That’s because you’re the only good girl for me.

“The only girl for me, period.” He said and when he kissed you on the cheek, your eyes began to flutter open. “The only one.” He was speaking directly into your ear now, and nothing could get in between you and his words. “Just ‘cause someone wants me, it doesn’t mean they get me. People can embarrass themselves trying to flirt with me, it doesn’t mean that they get me. People can grab me while I’m singing, they can rub my chest and treat me like a goddamn petting zoo- it’s nothing to me, they definitely don’t get to have me.

“You’re the only one that gets me. I’m yours.”

“Please don’t start singing that song.” You joked after his words had opened a direct connection to the Jason Mraz song from your childhood.

He laughed lightly. “No, you don’t want to hear it? You don’t think it suits the vibe that we’ve got going on?” You shook your head, a smile blossoming on your lips. “You don’t want me to sing for you?”

“Not right now.” You said and you reached your hand out for his crotch, where a stiff shape had been catching your eye. “I’d rather have you moan for me.”

He licked his lips, excitement flashing in his eyes as, over the material of his underwear, you wrapped your fingers around his erection. “Then I’ll moan for you.” He squirmed a little in his seat as you started to slowly move your hand up-and-down his length. “Mmn, I’ll moan for you all night, my toy.”

You matched the speed of your rocking to how you stroked his hot cock. You felt his fingers gripping your hips tighter and you watched the way his breathing was coming in quicker. He was invested in this build-up the same as you, everything feeling simpler when you allowed the desire to be your guide.

You adjusted the angle of your hips, moving yourself in a way that got your labia out of the way, applying your clit directly to his skin. You rubbed the hood against his firm thigh, picking up a little speed as the sensitivities stored in this spot soared into the centre of your attention. You kept the same tempo maintained on his dick, staying in sync with him.

He let out a heavy sigh. “You’re really showing off your multitasking skills, huh? I’m impressed, but not surprised, I’ve always known that you’re very talented. But concentrate on you, okay? That’s what I want- your pleasure comes first.”

“Mm-hmm.” This whine was the best response you could give as your throat clenched.

The heat was radiating out from your cunt as you kept going, inviting in more threats to your composure. The friction was so wonderful that you couldn’t help but recklessly chase after more of it. Even when your breath began to fail you, you kept bucking your hips. The sublime stimulation of your clitoral hood provided you with all of the inspiration you needed to continue in this momentum. Your breath left you in gasps and moans that betrayed just how needy you had become.

His dick had started to leak as you continued stroking and he appeared to be losing his ability to sit completely still. “You sound like you’re having fun.” He said and there was a noticeable strain in his voice that hadn’t been present before. “You sound like Daddy got you to calm down.”

“Yes.” You whimpered, leaning forward so you could give him a couple of kisses. “Daddy is always right.”

“Oh, I just wanna be inside of you real bad. I know I said that I want you to concentrate on yourself and I do, I truly do. But, fuck, I’m dying to feel your pussy.” He said.

“We can- I’m happy for us to fuck.” You said, bringing your swings to an end.

“Hell yes.” He said breathlessly as he rushed to get his briefs down. You readjusted, unable to resist kissing him some more as you were moved to be straddling his entire lap. “Can I keep you on top?”

“Yes.” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck as your bodies got wonderfully closer.

He had an arm secured around your waist and his hand was between the two of you, directing his dick. “I wanna hold you just like this, so that I can keep looking at you, ‘cause you’re so-... fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His tip effortlessly stretched your slicked entrance open, pressing between your keen walls. “You’re so beautiful, pet.”

Your eyelids fluttered and you gave yourself a moment as your cunt adjusted to this fullness. You took in a deep breath and raised your head again, looking him in the eye as he carefully watched you. “You’re beautiful.”

“Even though I’m a jerk?” He asked.

“It’s okay, I’m a jerk too.”

“We’ll be jerks together forever.” He said.

No further adjustments were necessary, your bodies knew what to do from here. His hand stroked the small of your back as you moved in, securing more kisses. As one passionate kiss led into another, he began to move, fucking deeper into you. You wrapped your arms tighter around him, feeling how your inner-walls were already clenching to him, your desperation soaring.

There wasn’t much time dedicated to building. He wanted it fast, he wanted friction. And you felt the same, enjoying the hunger present in his movements. As your gut tightened, you worked to match the reckless speed of his jolting.

“Forever.” He murmured against your lips.

“Forever.” You responded as fast as you could manage.

“Together forever.” He said, sending a tremor through you.

This developed into a quake that reached down to the core of your being, intensifying with each fervent collision of your bodies. You knew that when you fell apart, it would be on this deep level.

“Together forever.” You repeated.

Your fingernails pressed into his skin as you held him even tighter in response to the overwhelming pleasure rising up all around you. It was more powerful than anything else, ready to cripple you as you continued to quiver. Every bit of you was crying out for release and you shut your eyes, getting lost in it all.

“Ff-uck.” He burst out. “Ah, I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come, babygirl.”

“Yes.” You whimpered, clenching your thighs against him in the face of his strengthening jerks.

You had no chance of matching his wild speed. All you could do was receive him as your own release came screaming at you.

He rocketed forward, almost launching himself off of the couch as he secured his orgasm. His dick was buried all the way in, colliding with your g-spot in a way that set off a series of spasms, which you followed to your own orgasm. Your cunt clamped around his leaking cock as you both fell out of the momentum, settling into silence.

He fell back upon the support of the couch, still holding you close to his body. You rested your head on his shoulder, keeping your eyes shut as everything faded away. You attempted to catch your breath as your heart continued to hammer.

He brought you gently out of your haze, his fingers slowly raking through your hair. “How do you feel?”

“Better, calmer. I’m really happy that we’re home.” You said.

“Yeah, me too.” He said. “Now it’s just you and me, and we can get started on your aftercare. Did you have anything already in mind?” He asked.

“Can I have a face mask? After I take my makeup off. And maybe we could burn some incense.”

“Of course baby, anything you want.” He said.

You got up from the couch, holding your hand out as you waited for him. “And cuddles. I’m ready for a lot of cuddles.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” He said. He took your hand in his and you left the room together.

Once in the bedroom, you took the rest of your clothes off, in favour of wearing only your luxurious black robe. You sat down with a cleansing wipe in hand, taking off what you had so carefully applied before leaving the house. He disappeared into the ensuite, his eyes on his phone as he went. Accompanying the sound of running water, you thought you could hear music playing, but you didn’t pay this much attention.

And it was gone by the time he opened the door. He stood in the doorway, a few different packets of sheet masks in hand. “Which one do you wanna use?”

“Well bring them over so I have a chance at reading what they are.” You pointed out.

He got the incense set up while you made your choice. He set the slowly-burning stick in its holder, beside the television. From the selection, you picked a strawberry-scented mask, it would match well with the vanilla incense gradually filling the room. You liked this process of curating the environment, it helped you feel more in control, most unlike how you had been feeling upon first arriving home.

“Hang on, I thought I would put that on for you.” He said when he noticed you opening the sheet masks packaging.

“Alright.” You said. As he approached the bed, you held a makeup wipe out to him. “For your leg, so you can get off any of the pussy still on there.”

“Thanks, but I cleaned it with water already.”

You laid down on your back as instructed by him. He brushed any strands of hair away from your face and took the chance to kiss you a couple of times. You smiled, slipping further into this feeling of contentment.

As he unfolded the thin, wet material, you noticed him humming a little. This developed into singing as he carefully applied the mask to your face.

“So I won’t hesitate no more, no more. It cannot wait, I’m sure. There’s no need to complicate…” He sang in a voice different from his typical, famous voice. There was none of that usual grit or power. This was breathier, potentially it could have fooled some into thinking another person was singing. “Our time is short. This is our fate…”

You recognised the tune and began giggling before he got to singing the title of the song. “I’m yours…”

“Dami.” You said, still laughing as more of the thin sheet covered your face.

“What, you don’t like your lullaby?” He asked. “You probably shouldn’t have brought the song up, then.” As he smoothed the mask across your chin, he went back to singing in that fake voice. “Do you want to come on, scooch on over closer, dear…”

“What is this voice you’re doing?” You asked.

“You don’t like it? I was trying to do something that suited the song.” He said.

“So this is your ‘indie-Damiano’ voice, or something?”

“I guess.” He said with a shrug. “...and I will nibble your ear…”

You couldn’t help laughing as he kept singing. “Are you doing an accent, are you trying to be Australian?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Am I?”

“I thought Jason Mraz was from America.”

Playfully, he rolled his eyes. “Well how would you have me sing it?” He changed his posture and when he sang again, it was in his natural, unrestrained and loud tone. “I’m your-oh-oh-uh-orss… ow…” He punctuated this by sticking his tongue out and making his eyebrows dance for you.

“Oh my God, baby.” You said through more laughter. “How do you still have so much energy?”

“Well, um, I went to, um, my friend’s house and they, like, let me eat, um, a lot of sugar and, um, yeah…” He briefly adopted the mannerisms of an enthusiastic child. A more serious expression came onto his face as he looked down at you. “I’m kind of obnoxious today, huh?”

You shook your head as you stroked his arm. “No, you’re adorable, not obnoxious. You’re also not a jerk.”

“Neither are you, kitty.”

“Andrea is the jerk and I’m sorry for letting her get to me so much.” You said.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologise for. I’m sorry that I wasn’t more perceptive to how you were reacting to her. But do you know what- we’re probably never gonna see her again, our paths aren’t likely to cross again. And if they do, I’ll be firmer with her, she isn’t allowed to demand a single thing from me.” He said.

“I love you.” You said, feeling confident that he was on the same page as you.

“I love you too.” He said and he picked up your hand, raising it towards his face. “I’m just gonna kiss you here while your lips are in slime city over there.”

You smiled as he kissed the back of your hand. You were perfectly happy to remain just like this through the rest of your treatment time, maybe longer than that.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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nikethestatue · 1 year ago

Text

The Agreement

Chapter 12

Elain Archeron

Elain’s pen filled page after page. Never before had she written anything this quickly and this…well (if she may say so herself!). The tale flowed. Elain’s always had a robust, and some have said, ‘wild’ imagination. She didn’t think that it was wild, but she created worlds and conversations in her mind, adventures and love stories. Ahhh, the love stories. She indulged in writing love stories the most. They were exciting and exhilarating and passionate and…completely false. Untrue. Fake. Her love stories were childish, based on conjuncture and fantasy, not on any personal experience. She’d observed Dorchester courting her sister Nesta, but it was a short and ill-timed affair, which resulted in Nesta’s heartbreak. And then there was her own fateful engagement to Graysen, Lord Nolan. When Azriel had asked her whether she loved Graysen, Elain was honest–at that time, she didn’t know. It felt like she should’ve been in love with her husband-to-be, and she tried. She really, really tried to love him. However, she did not know anything about the man, other than that he loved fox hunting. In a week, she’d learned more about Azriel than she’d ever known about Graysen. She knew what whiskey Azriel preferred, that he played the fortepiano, she knew that for breakfast he only ate eggs and that he enjoyed coffee, that he was quite knowledgeable in and admired French impressionist paintings–he’s had a few of those chaotic, perplexing pieces here at the house. Apparently, he’d been to France numerous times, and often left Paris with a painting or two. His horse was named Brutus–it was a stately black stallion. Now, she knew about Azriel sneaking all the way to the Levant instead of taking a leisurely year to explore the Swiss Alps and the canals of Venice.

She knew Azriel much better than she ever knew Graysen. And perhaps, it was not love, but it was affection she felt for Azriel. Deep admiration and sexual attraction as well. And now, she could write about the genuine feelings that she was exploring for the first time in her life, which was a thoroughly freeing experience.

A knock on the door startled her and she made a sloppy splat of ink on the page.

“Elain?” She heard Nuala’s voice. “Are you alright, Miss?”

Looking around, waking up from her writing stupor, Elain looked around the room–the shadows were falling out in the garden. The clock said that it was after 3 pm. She couldn’t believe that she’s been writing for six hours straight.

“Elain?” Nuala repeated, concern lacing her voice.

Elain got up and went to open the door.

Nuala stood in the corridor, and Cerridwen was behind her. Both looked worried.

“Miss Elain, are you alright?” Nuala asked softly.

“Yes,” Elain nodded, unsure as to the reason for their panic. “I am well. Why?”

“Well, you’ve been locked in your room for the better part of the day and did not come down for luncheon.”

Cerridwen stepped forward and added, “We are under strict orders from his lordship that you eat at least three times daily. Full meals…”

“I apologise,” Elain whispered, reddening. She didn’t want to get the twins in trouble. She genuinely lost track of time, and now, they both felt at fault for her oversight. “I am sorry. I was…well, busy,” she explained vaguely. So far, only Azriel knew that she wrote, and she wanted to keep it that way. She liked having that little part of her life to remain private. Even though she was friendly with the twins, she didn’t want to reveal her hobby to them just yet.

“May I come in?” Nuala asked. “I should help you dress.”

Elain looked down and saw that she was still dressed in her house dress from the morning.

Elain stepped aside, allowing Nuala to enter, and noticing that the twins exchanged heavy glances between each other.

Slowly closing the door behind her, Nuala followed Elain inside and headed for the wardrobe, while Elain cleaned up her desk and put her writings into the drawer.

“I don’t mean to pry, Miss Elain,” Nuala turned swiftly and glared at Elain. “But I must ask–are you truly feeling well? Are you…hurt?”

It dawned on Elain at last–Nuala was aware of the fact that the relationship was consummated–and she was disturbed by Elain’s reluctance to come out of her room.

Stepping closer, Nuala pressed, “did he hurt you?”

Shaking her head, Elain quickly said, “No. Nuala, he didn’t. It was very…intense,” and at that, she blushed deeply, but took the maid’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “Truly,” she pushed.

Nuala looked at her closely, and finally, after a long pause, squeezed Elain’s hand back.

“Like you said,” Elain reminded her with a smile, “he is a good lord.”

“He might be a good lord,” Nuala shrugged, motioning for Elain to sit down at her dressing table. She picked up the hair brush and began brushing through Elain’s thick hair, as she said, “but is he a good lover? A tender one? A caring one?”

Elain pursed her lips, and Nuala’s eyes dipped to Elain’s neck, down to her cleavage, to her arms, taking stock of all the marks and bruises that peppered her skin. Clearly, she wasn’t believing Elain’s words.

Elain chewed on her lower lip, while Nuala brushed her hair somewhat aggressively.

“Yes, no, and yes,” Elain said at last, and Nuala threw her a confused look in the mirror.

Explaining further, Elain said, “he is a good lover, but he is not tender at all. But he is caring and he cared for me during and after.”

Nuala did not say anything back for a long while, while she braided and pinned Elain’s hair. She’d learned in the past week that Elain was comfortable with silences. She didn’t mind being lost in her thoughts and didn't have the need in her to constantly talk. It was both relaxing, but also unnerving at times. It reminded Nuala of Azriel too much.

“Is that enough?” she finally snapped.

Elain looked at her and raised her brow in question.

“Him being nice, I suppose…caring even…is that enough?”

“It has to be,” Elain said flatly and that was that.

Nuala understood that the conversation was over.

“What would you like to wear?” Nuala asked at last.

Before Elain could answer though, there was a knock on the door. Nuala went to open it and there stood the stone-faced Mr. Devlon. He remained expressionless when he announced, “A note came for Miss Elain from his lordship.” With that, he handed the envelope to Nuala and left without saying another word.

“From his lordship,” Nuala said and Elain took the small envelope, and wished that her fingers didn’t tremble quite so visibly. She and Azriel did not part on good terms–she felt that he was upset with her, but there was nothing that she could do about that now. She stood by her decision of not agreeing to contract re-negotiating. It would only give Azriel more power in the relationship, and frankly, that wasn’t fair to her.

My beautiful Elain,

I’ve been called away and will be absent for a day or two. I will do my best to return to you speedily. Meanwhile, I think that it would allow you time to heal before I return and ravage you again. Worry not, beautiful, I am not angry with you. You were correct in standing up to me and to my unfair demands.

While I am away, don’t you dare play with yourself. I’ll know if you did. And there will be consequences if you disobey.

Very fondly,

Elain had no idea what to make of this strange missive. She read it a few times, attempting to ascertain the tone and whether he was being truthful about not being upset with her.

“Is everything well, Miss?” Nuala asked.

Finally snapping out of it, Elain nodded and tucked the letter into her brassiere.

“His lordship will be away for a couple of days,” she explained, trying to keep her tone neutral. However, she couldn’t help her red hot cheeks, which flamed like two blazing coals. “There is no need to dress.”

Nuala tried to gauge Elain’s mood after the letter, but Elain did not let anything on, though judging by the deep blush that spread over her face and neck, the lord had said something naughty in his letter. Elain wasn’t exactly difficult to read.

Nuala still wasn’t sure what to make of her new friend–was this girl utterly mad? Or was she wild and fearless? Did she know what she was doing? Or was she way over her head with this affair? Nuala just prayed that Elain would not get her heart broken in the end, because if she had hopes of seducing Azriel away from Morrigan, it was a futile endeavour. It would never happen. He wouldn’t budge. And Nuala hoped that Elain recognised that fact.

“Nonsense!” Nuala announced, and Elain gave her a puzzled look.

“When the fox is away, the chickens are at play!” Nuala announced mysteriously, and Elain laughed heartily.

Seemed like the letter wasn’t a heartbreaker.

“What do you have in mind?”

Nuala quickly pulled things from the wardrobe and said, spinning around the bedroom, “We are going out!”

“Out where?” Elain whispered cautiously, though the idea of leaving the house appealed to her.

“We shall go to a public dining hall!”

“What is that?”

“A place where we can dine, and there is music…and,” she whispered conspiratorially, “men!”

Elain’s hand flew to her mouth and she stared at Nuala.

“You are scandalous, Miss Nuala!” she chided her humorously.

“Am not!” Nuala put her hands on her hips. “Balthazar is romancing Cerridwen. You are engaged with his lordship. What am I left with? Mr. Devlon?”

At that, Elain dissolved into laughter, shaking with giggles.

Nuala was laughing too, while she added, “Though a little birdie told me that Mr. Devlon has a lady companion.”

“What?!” Elain's eyes just about bugged out of her head. “You jest!”

Nuala shrugged, “not at all. All servants talk and that’s what I heard! So…that leaves me all by my lonesome. Therefore, you and Cer are obligated to come with me and have dinner and be with people.”

“What if there is a suitor who wants to court you?” Elain pondered, curious about the twins’ position in the household.

Nuala winced and said, “Well, then I’d have to discuss it with his lordship. And I am certain that he’d demand that I’d go with a chaperone!”

“He is that strict?”

“Not strict. Concerned. You should've heard the earful that poor Balthazar got when his lordship discovered that he was courting Cer! Told him that if he’d make her pregnant without a wedding ring, he’d ruin his life.”

Elain was surprised, and yet she wasn’t. It seemed like an Azriel thing to do. Have this warped sense of honour and propriety.

“Dress, and I’ll meet you downstairs in 10 minutes,” Nuala said and then skipped out of the bedroom hurriedly.

Where Elain was from, they had public houses, taverns, but she wasn’t familiar with these public food halls. She dressed in what Nuala had left for her–typical daily attire of a skirt, a shirtwaist and a jacket. She pulled on her gloves, and grabbed her hat and headed downstairs.

Nuala appeared a minute later, dragging Cerridwen alongside her, and then she loudly suggested ‘invite Balty to join us’.

Cerridwen gave her a scandalised look, but Nuala only shrugged.

“Mr. Devlon would be more amiable to let us go if we have a male escorting us.”

“Oh,”

“Yes. Oh. It’s just for that and no other reason.”

Elain hid her smile.

Apparently, Nuala approved of her sister’s romance with the valet. Elain didn’t know Balthazar well, because Azriel hardly ever needed his help, but he seemed to be a proper and genteel young man.

They passed by the servants' dining room, to let Mr. Devlon know that they would be leaving. And to Elain’s surprise, Mr. Devlon was…entertaining. He and a middle-aged lady that Elain did not know were seated at the table, a tea service in front of them.

“Ms. Alis will be joining us for dinner,” Mr. Devlon announced, and it was obvious that he wasn’t too thrilled to be found out like that. Because when they came in, he was actually…smiling. Laughing even. An unheard of event, up until now. “Since his lordship won’t be here tonight.”

“Mr. Devlon,” Nuala did her best to sound contrite and innocent. “We should like to have your permission to go out and eat at the dinner hall. Miss Elain’s never been to one, and we’d like to show it to her,”

“And there is dinner, Mr. Devlon,” Cerridwen piped in, “you and Ms. Alis should enjoy it together. There is beef stew and I’ve made pea soup as well. And a plum crumble for pudding.”

“And I shall escort the ladies,” Balthazar added immediately, even puffing out his chest, though he was a brawny, big lad, and there was no need to appear even bigger than he was.

Mr. Devlon gave them all an assessing, stern look, but then Ms. Alis whispered,

“Perhaps it would be good for them, Mr. Devlon? They are young and surely want to explore their horizons…”

Mr. Devlon considered, his lips pursed, but finally nodded and said, ‘you are to be home by 10:30 pm at the latest.”

“Yes, Mr. Devlon! Of course!” The twins beamed and then Cerridwen tugged Elain behind her, as they quickly left the dining room, before Mr. Devlon could change his mind.

The four of them ran down the hallway and finally piled out of the servants door and onto the side path.

“Was that her?” Elain asked excitedly. “Was that Mr. Devlon’s lady paramour?”

Cerridwen was laughing, and Nuala was bent over at the waist, panting and laughing.

“She is the housekeeper of the Duke of Argyle’s household, Lord Tam Lin,” Balthazar explained, offering Elain his arm. She was technically of higher social standing than the twins, and he felt obligated to provide her with assistance. Instead of taking his arm, Elain nudged him towards Cerridwen and nodded in her direction. Balthazar smiled with gratitude and then sidled towards Cerridwen and gave his arm. She threaded it with hers and beamed with secret happiness. Nuala took Elain by the hand and they walked side by side.

It was a nice, warm evening, and people were out for a stroll. Even the normally quiet and empty streets of Belgravia were unusually busy, though the aristocrats took to their private gardens or were piling into cabs, while the help walked on the edge of the sidewalks. Balthazar took his place at the curb, to protect the ladies he was escorting, and Elain thought that perhaps, Azriel was worrying needlessly, since Balthazar seemed like a very decent and honourable gentleman.

“How would Mr. Devlon meet someone like Ms. Alis?” Elain wondered.

“At a flower show,” Cerridwen laughed, as she turned to look at them. “Mr. Devlon is quite the florist–he actually cultivates heirloom roses, and devotes a lot of time to working on that–and every year, there is a flower show, at the Crystal Palace no less! And Mr. Devlon’s won a number of times. Ms. Alis visited the show, and even exhibited a couple of times. I suppose they share the love for horticulture and extravagant roses.”

Elain considered it, and then said, “well, I think that it’s rather romantic!”

Nuala laughed softly and pulled Elain to her, “ahhh, she’s got romance on her mind! She even finds Mr. Devlon romantic,”

“I wouldn’ go that far,” Elain laughed as well. “He is rather stern and frightful.”

“Which only makes it more amusing to watch his lordship be stern and frightful with Mr. Devlon. Though it doesn’t happen often.”

The casual mention of Azriel brought Elain’s thoughts back to him. She’s been in her head most of the day, and now, she was in the company of others, but deep down, Elain was always with Azriel–connected to him mentally and physically. Now, as they walked down the streets, in London’s perpetual fog, though it was very light this fine evening, Elain took stock of her body and all the minor aches and pains came back to the surface. Just last night, she was tangled in a naked embrace with the Duke of Velaris, him inside her body, his hands hot and needy all over her skin, his tongue…everywhere. She also just realised that she’d forgotten to dress properly and didn’t put on her corset, but was walking in her brassiere under her blouse and her jacket. Her tender nipples rubbing against the satin brought her to that reality. The dull, but pleasant soreness in her behind was also welcome–a tether that connected her to Azriel. Not to mention the ache between her legs. She hoped that no one noticed the immodest bouncing of her breasts, and how natural her body looked beneath the jacket.

They joined a stream of people–many younger females, in simple clothes–and some younger men, dressed in varied attire.

“So who goes to these dining halls?” Elain asked, turning her head whichever way, like a baby. She hasn’t even been in places with so many people on the streets. When her father still had his fortune, the family lived in a manor, had acres and acres of land, but only ever ventured out to neighbouring estates, and at times to Dover, to a ball or a charity function. After their home and their money were gone, there was nowhere to go and travel was expensive anyway. They were stuck in St. Margaret’s Bay for years. Therefore, yet again, Elain was overwhelmed. She was initially shocked by the crowds when she first met Azriel (and she couldn't believe that it was only a week ago). Now, she was navigating through throngs of people, and she grabbed Nuala’s hand tighter. Nuala looked at her, but didn’t comment, and only squeezed her fingers kindly.

“You’ll like it, I promise,” Nuala whispered at last when they approached a building with tall doors, which swung back and forth. “And on the weekend, we’ll go to Than Gunter’s in Berkeley Square for sweet ices.”

It was a great food hall, when they entered. It was noisy and warm here, waiters and serving boys were running around, hauling great trays laden with dishes. Because Balthazar was with them, he took charge of finding seats, and the three of them followed him.

There was dancing happening in the adjoining hall, the stomping of feet loud and the music fast and jovial.

“Can we go dancing?” Elain asked excitedly, taking everything in. “What’s there?” she pointed to the second floor loggia, where there were individual tables set up, and far fewer people were milling about.

“Oh, that’s where the gentlemen dine,” Balthazar explained.

“Gentlemen come here?” she was surprised. The clientele was decent, but this was a place for the working class–mostly domestics, labourers, perhaps some students. She couldn’t imagine Azriel here.

“Perhaps not his lordship, but you would be surprised,” Cerridwen piped in, her eyes lighting up when they were brought four pints.

Elain’s never even had lager before, or at least not as much as a whole pint, but she took a sip and it went down well. It was smooth, hoppy, slightly bitter and fruity.

Balthazar took to ordering for everyone, since he was a man and expected to take charge. Elain wondered if it were just the three girls, how quickly would they be approached and served?

They were brought anchovy stuffed olives to nibble on, and Cerridwen asked, “Why are you looking so pensive like, Miss Elain?”

“You may simply call me Elain,” she said, sipping her lager. “I am not pensive,”

“You sure are,” Balthazar argued, his dark brown eyes watching her closely.

“I…oh, it’s stupid,” Elain waved her hand, but Balthazar and Cerridwent pressed her, “come on now. There is something going on…You don’t like the place?”

“No, no, the place is nice,” she assured them quickly. “It just made me think…You know how we had to ask Mr. Devlon for permission to go out tonight? And when we came here, they saw us with Balthazar and they found a table for us quickly and brought us drinks, but those four girls,” she pointed to the waiting area, “they’ve been here longer than us, and no one’s offered them a seat yet. And I bet that if Balthazar wanted to leave in the evening, no one would object. And I…I just don’t think it’s fair,” she exhaled and felt herself blush.

“Are you a Socialist?” Nuala queried.

“A Socialist?” Elain laughed nervously. “No. Of course not. But I would like,”

“What exactly?”

“I don’t want this to be all we ever do. You are domestics, but maybe you want to do something else entirely?” She looked at the twins. “And my sisters–my eldest, Nesta, she is so smart, so well-read, so erudite–and she can’t even do anything with her smarts.”

“She could become a governess,” Cerridwen proposed reluctantly.

“She doesn’t want to be a governess. Because she could do so much more! I want her to become a secretary,”

Both Balthazar and Nuiala bubbled their lips. This was a tall order kind of a declaration and Elain knew that.

“She’d need a typing machine, you know,” Balthazar said reasonably. “They are expensive and she’d need to train, and she’d need to know how to interview well…”

Elain sighed and took a generous gulp of her lager. Her hands were shaking, and she couldn’t believe herself and that she allowed herself to voice her dreams out loud.

“I know. But I will buy her that machine and she will learn. And she will become a secretary!” she said stubbornly. “And then,” she was talking fast, the alcohol probably hitting her quicker than expected, “why couldn’t we all work and do what we want? Why can’t we own property? Why do we have to ask our fathers and husbands for permission to do everything? Why can’t we study in colleges?”

Cerridwen was shaking her head, until she muttered, “you’ve got many ambitions, Miss Elain. It’s commendable, but I don’t think it’s realistic, I am sorry to say.”

“I know,” Elain agreed, “I know. It’s all fairy tales in my head, it will never happen,”

The waiter delivered mutton cutlets with tomato sauce, and a platter of liver with onions, along with a bowl of young roasted potatoes.

And while she was talking, Elain didn’t even dare speak about herself and why she was here, in London, in the Duke’s household in the first place. Because admitting out loud that she was whoring out her womb for money was simply terrible. Even if these three knew some of what was happening between her and the Duke, acknowledging it was not something Elain was ready to do.

Balthazar tucked into the liver and pointed his fork in her direction with intention.

“You should ask his lordship,”

Elain sliced into the mutton and asked, “ask him for what?”

“He might agree with you,” Balthazar said, “at least in concept. He always championed women’s rights, donating to causes. He opened a women’s hospital in Whitechapel, because the mortality rates were so high for women and birthing mothers. He funds schools there as well–not sure how many children have the chance to attend, but he does what he can.

“Maybe he can do something for you?”

“I don’t see what he might be able to help,” Elain argued sadly. “His lordship is a good man, with a generous heart, but this change seems insurmountable,”

“Naw, Miss Elain, ain’t nothing insurmountable in the world if there is a will. You ain’t the only one talking like that,”

At that Elain stopped eating and looked up at Cerridwen with curiosity.

Nuala nodded, “She's right, you know. There are women out there campaigning, organising rallies of all sorts, demanding more rights.

“I don’t know if his lordship would allow you to attend–it does get somewhat dangerous at times, and there is much resistance–but you should talk to him,”

Elain hummed under her breath and nodded.

Would Azriel be receptive to her ideas? He seemed like a modern enough man, but he was also the product of his upbringing and his status.

“The food’s good,” Nuala announced, bringing the conversation to a close.

“Not as good as Cer’s,” Balthazar smiled and Cerridwen blushed adorably at the compliment.

Was Elain envious of them?

Maybe a little.

What she had with Azriel was passionate, sexual, filthy even, but was it romantic? She wouldn’t say that. And maybe, she wanted a little of this–the cute compliments and the gentle touches and the tender gazes.

Nuala huffed and grunted, “you two make me feel terrible about myself!”

“No!” Cerridwen reached for her sister’s hand and patted hers gently. “You’ll find someone. You know you will.”

Nuala rolled her eyes and said, her tone bitter, “when? When I am like Ms. Alis? Aged 53, droning on and on about my nephews, with a Mr. Devlon-like suitor?”

“You are being dramatic,” Balthazar cocked his brow, displaying the same even-keel-ness as Azriel. “Of course you will find a husband,”

“Balthazar, do you know many domestics who are married? The whole idea is that we get wages, shelter and food, but no private lives…It’s fine. Maybe I will become a revolutionary spinster!”

Elain chuckled at that.

“It doesn’t sound terrible.”

As they laughed, a shadow fell on their table and Elain lifted her eyes from her now-empty plate. She had polished off her cutlets very successfully. She still felt fairly ravenous all the time, hungry for food and for the comfort of having food around her.

“If you are not otherwise engaged, Miss, would you grant me the pleasure of the next dance?”

A well-dressed man stood at their table. He was fashionably dressed, in a well-tailored suit, with a moss green waistcoat and an emerald green cravat. He stood in a confident pose, long legs firmly planted on the floor, one hand threaded into the seam of the waistcoat. He was a younger man, maybe mid-20s, with an attractive aristocratic face, fine features, and bronze-red hair styled unusually long. He wore a golden eye patch over his left eye.

“Count Lucien Vanserra at your service,” he bowed slightly, his one brown eye gazing at Elain.

She was taken aback by the invitation, and didn’t know what to say, but she rose from her seat and curtsied.

“Count Vanserra.”

He extended an elbow to her, and she had no other choice but to take it.

It felt strange.

Another man’s interest in her was…unusual. Confusing too.

She didn’t know why her, and what she had that was so attractive. A duke and a count? That seemed a bit unbelievable.

Nuala and Cerridwen made big eyes at her, but she only managed a discreet shrug and followed along Count Vanserra’s long strides. He was not as tall as Azriel–but who was?--but he was still very tall, with a lean, athletic body.

“May I have a name?” he asked at last.

“Oh, pardon me and my manners. Elain. Elain Archeron.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Archeron,” he said warmly.

“You as well, Count.”

“Do you dance the polka, Miss?” he asked.

She nodded and he moved them closer to the dance hall. There was a small band of musicians playing in the corner, and what they lacked in numbers, they compensated in energy and fast, exciting tunes.

“Oh, this reminds me of home!” Elain exclaimed with a smile.

“Indeed? Where is home?” he queried, wrapping his arm around her waist. And then, they were off, swept into the vortex of the other dancing couples.

Lucien led expertly, his steps sure and well-practised.

“Dover,” Elain explained, watching her hand disappearing within his.

“Ahhh, and what sorts of music is played in Dover?”

“If we ever went out dancing, Irish music is popular. Fast dances. But it’s a port city, so we’ve heard all kinds of music there,”

“And now you are in London?” he prodded her.

Despite her best efforts, Elain coloured, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the fact that she was still dripping with Azriel’s seed in her satin knickers. It was both embarrassing and unsettling somehow. She hoped that her collar hid any marks from Azriel’s teeth–marks that he loved leaving on her body. She felt marked by him. She was his. Not only because of the fact that they had consummated their relationship last night, but because somehow, she belonged to him. She was Azriel’s.

Count Vanserra didn’t seem to notice her apprehension, and waited for her answer.

“I am,” was all she said, while he whipped her up in his arms.

He waited for more, looking at her expectantly.

He was handsome. Not in the same way that Azriel was handsome–who was classically and unforgettably beautiful, but in a refined way, which spoke of many generations of noble blood. Though then she thought of the Queen, who wasn’t exactly a beauty, and decided that perhaps this Lucien Vanserra was just handsome.

“May I come clean, Miss Archeron?” he smiled at her, as he spun her about.

“Certainly, sir,” she agreed, wondering what secret he was harbouring.

“I’ve seen you before.”

“Oh. You have?”

“I have,” he nodded, pulling her closer to his body.

“Where would that be?”

“Duke of Velaris’s garden, to be exact.”

Jesus. She did not want him to know anything about her and Azriel, and establish a connection between the two of them, but it seemed like it was too late now. She’d been careful, and stayed mostly on the inside of the garden, figuring out how to make sense of it, and pulling weeds.

“I was curious, I must admit, as to who you were. And how did Azriel get such a pretty gardener?”

“You know the Duke of Velaris?”

“I do. Not closely–I don’t think he has close acquaintances, if I am being frank–but we frequent the same clubs,”

“What do you do, my lord?”

“My father is the ambassador to Britain–from Italy. I was born here though, so I am quintessentially British, though of Italian stock.”

“How fascinating.”

Elain didn’t know how to react, or what to say. She was frantically thinking of an explanation for what she was doing at Azriel’s house.

Lucien trotted the two of them around, while the tune changed, and now it was actually something Gaelic and familiar.

“Uh, the music in this establishment leaves much to be desired,” Lucien winced, but Elain lit up and said, “well, I am enjoying it!”

“Well, then, lead on!” he laughed, and his smile was open and friendly.

Elain found herself liking him. He wasn’t particularly intense, not like Azriel, and there was a warmth about him, a lightness, which probably came from his background.

They linked arms and stomped about, facing a row of dancers, who answered with their own stomps. Elain caught sight of Nuala, dancing with a man, and Balthazar and Cerridwen dancing together, their eyes only for each other.

“So you are familiar with the Duke then?” Lucien pressed.

Elain was breathless and smiling, as she nodded.

“I am his gardener! I am going to be studying at the Horticulture Institute and I was hired to tend to his grounds. It’s good practice and a good position to boot.”

The lie rolled easily off her tongue. It wasn’t all lies. She did work on Azriel’s garden and she was planning on applying to the Institute. Of course, somewhere in there, she was expected to become pregnant and bear his child, but that was…sometime in the future. She couldn’t think of it now.

“Lucky for him,” Lucien said flatly.

…The Count joined the four of them at their table after the dancing. He seemed comfortable and at ease in the presence of servants, and shared that he was the seventh son of his Ambassador father and his Countess mother. Because he was so low on the totem pole of importance to his father, he in fact, worked at the Embassy, and did various jobs which were not always glamorous. Yes, he was the elite, but he was also sort of approachable. Pleasant even. Didn’t treat the domestics with contempt. He and Balthazar shared a scotch, while the ladies had Victoria sponge, with extra helpings of cream.

Once the evening finally began winding down, and Nuala noted that they needed to be home by 10:30 pm, and it was five past now, Lucien stood up and said, ‘Allow me to walk you home, Miss Archeron’.

“Of course, sir. It would be my pleasure.”

“Where do you live?” Elain asked once they were outside. Nuala led the way, then it was Elain and Lucien, and Cerridwen and Balthazar trailed them, making moon eyes at each other.

“In Mayfair,” Lucien answered, “but the Embassy is in Belgravia, so I spend quite a lot of time there.”

Well, that explained how he spied her in Azriel’s garden.

“And you dine at the public food halls?”

“Suppose I do. It’s a quick dinner. Without pressure. I enjoy a club, or a restaurant, but it’s my job to socialise all day long, and sometimes, at night, I prefer some privacy and the chance to relax.”

“Understandable.”

He looked at her and said quietly, so that the others couldn’t hear,

“And I am glad that I did. It offered me the chance to meet you.”

Elain looked down at her feet, unsure of how to respond.

His interest was obvious.

Her availability was questionable at best.

Part of the Agreement that she had with Azriel stated that she would not have relations with other males, which included courting.

If Azriel found out, he’d be furious. She knew that. Azriel was possessive, somewhat obsessive too, needy and demanding. And he was her employer, as well as her lover, and the man who held her heart in his hand.

It was too complicated and she didn’t know what to say. Because she knew that Lucien Vanserra was interested and would request to court her.

“Are you engaged with a man?” he asked.

Elain bit her lip and forced herself to shake her head no. What could she say? I am Azriel Night’s lover and would likely be the mother of his child.

Lucien perked up and smiled,

“That’s good news.”

“Is it?”

He exhaled and then proceeded to ask,

“Would you permit me to court you, Miss Elain?”

“Sir, this is so unexpected,” she murmured feebly. “We’ve only just met.”

“Of course, of course, I understand,” he nodded immediately. “I do not mean to pressure you, Miss. Surely you know this?”

“I know, sir.”

“Must I ask the Duke for permission?” he proposed seriously. “Is he your guardian?”

His innocent proposal caused such horror in Elain, that she actually choked and began to cough.

“Are you quite alright?” he worried, as they stopped and she hacked and panted in the middle of the street.

“I am, sir. Forgive me.”

She pounded her chest, feverishly thinking of a way out of this.

“Sir, I am flattered,” she said quickly. “Enormously. But am I of the appropriate background for you? I am not noble, you understand. I don’t have a dowry. I aim to be a working woman once I am finished with my education,”

“Until you are married, obviously.”

She winced, but agreed, ‘obviously’.

“I am not worried about your social status, Miss Archeron. You are a well-reared maid. Perhaps not wealthy, but I have a modest fortune of my own, so money is of no concern.

“And I am not expected to make a match based on wealth and status. I am lucky like that–being the seventh son has some advantages, you know,” he chuckled. “I may actually marry for love!”

“That is an advantage,” Elain agreed. She needed to stop this. At once. But how? She did not have a valid reason. And Lucien was…nice. She had no opposition to him, and even his missing eye didn’t bother her.

“What do you say, Miss Archeron?”

They were near Azriel’s pure-white mansion, lit up with gas lanterns and lamps on the outside. It looked beautiful and overwhelming.

“Mr. Vanserra, sir,” Elain turned to him once they approached the wrought iron fence and the other three quickly disappeared behind the gate.

“Please do not say ‘no’,” he pleaded, and the plea was genuine.

“Not a ‘no’,” she sighed. “But I’d just arrived in London last week. I’ve been settling, I only just began my work here, and my school will start in a few weeks. I am simply not ready for courting yet, sir. I am sorry. I don’t want to be unfair to you, but I cannot devote my time to a relationship right now.”

“And I understand,” he said earnestly. “I do, Miss Elain–and I am sorry for being so abrupt about my offer. However, I should like to call upon you in a month’s time, if that is acceptable to you?”

A month.

She had a month.

A lot could happen in a month.

He’d likely forget all about her.

“That is acceptable,” she nodded at last. “I’d be in a better place in a month.”

“Then it’s agreed!” He sounded cheerful and excited. “I am so pleased, Miss Archeron. So pleased.”

“So am I, sir,” she told him.

“Then we’ll meet again in a month,” he promised, and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “I look forward to it. You won’t regret it. I think we’d make a fine couple.”

A fine couple indeed.

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