#not worth your time or effort like I’m sorry if ever I make anyone feel unwanted or disliked I don’t try to and you can discuss it with me

[whimsyprinx]

:)

[rose-pearls]

The Perils of Love - Part 2

Did I already had an idea for the second part of The Perils of Love? Definitely and here it is! Thank you for all the comments and love I didn't think so many people would like it! I hope you like this chapter! Requests are also open!

Relations: Clarisse La Rue x reader (endgame), Luke Castellan x reader, platonic!Silena x reader, platonic!Percy Jackson x reader

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

The Perils of Love Taglist: @chadmeeksmartinswifey, @liv444me, @justanotherkpopstanlol, @taygrls, @10ava01, @2hiigh2cry, @lucycarlisleswife, @thekittyxo-blog, @ahh-chickens, @exactlycoralfox, @quackitysdrugdealer, @lafemmii, @flower-lise, @jaegerlisa1, @valenftcrush, @bdscsjhb, @niktwazny303, @llovvessssssssssssss, @etheriaaly, @spidergyall, @acourtofdeppressionandanxiety

It was quiet, far too quiet after having lived in the Hermes cabin for so long. A statue of Zeus was in the middle of the room, and you couldn’t help but think how vain you father must be to put a statue of himself in here. 

The afternoon had been chaotic, with Mister D and Chiron taking you away from the group to talk, Percy the only one allowed with you as you were now both children of the big three. After that they had sent you to your new cabin, you still had to retrieve your clothes and stuff from the Hermes cabin, but you just needed a moment. 

The quiet was suddenly broken by a loud whistle.

“Damn, Zeus really made an effort here,” you hear Clarisse say as she looks around, curious eyes looking around the room. She was right, it was much bigger than the other cabin’s you had seen with a living room when you entered and a second floor where multiple beds could be placed. It looked like a bank, mixed with lightening bolds and clouds drawn on the ceiling.

“He sure did, wonder why,” you can’t help but say, wondering for the hundredth time in the past hour why the God of Thunder had suddenly decided you were worth something.

There was a silence that accompanied your words before you felt the couch dip and the smell of woods filled your senses. 

“How are you doing?”, Clarisse looks unsure when you turn to her, but the only thing you can do is sigh in response.

“I don’t know, my father suddenly decides that I’m worth something and claims me in front of everyone. Now I am going to be living in this enormous cabin alone and everyone will probably avoid me because a child of the big three is like the most dangerous thing possible,” you take a deep breath after spilling everything that you had been thinking. Clarisse seems surprised at your outburst, and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

“Sorry, I guess it just needed to get out and you are the first person I talked to since then. Percy had to stay with Chiron,” Clarisse makes a noise of disagreement as you turn to look at your hands.

“I don’t mind, really. I mean your life did a complete turnaround in the last hour I think it’s normal for you to be having a hard time,” a smile appears on your lips without you even noticing, and as you look at her, she has a soft smile on her lips, one that you haven’t seen before. 

“I can’t tell you that it will all be alright but try to see the good side of it all, now you have a cabin for yourself without idiots running around all the time,” her words make you snort as you can’t help but agree, as much as you loved the comradery in the Hermes cabin it was always chaotic. 

“And if anyone has a problem with you, you tell me and I’ll make sure they don’t say anything anymore,” the sweet look she had just a second ago has morphed into determination and you can’t stop yourself from smiling.

“Don’t worry Clarisse I’ll be fine, but thank you,” you tell her, and she nods slowly, she looks unsure for a moment and the both of you look at each other before she finally speaks.

“I’m here for you, if you ever need something I will always be there,” she says it with such determination and emotions that you can only believe her, feeling lost at the feeling in your chest at her words.

“Thank you. I’m also always there for you if you need me,” you tell her with a soft smile and she seems surprised for a moment before nodding, you don’t know if you are tired or if there is really a blush on her cheeks. 

“I should go pick up my stuff at the Hermes cabin otherwise I will never get settled in before the bonfire tonight,” Clarisse has a bright smile at the words before getting up with you.

“So, I’ll be seeing you at the bonfire tonight?”, she seems confident as she speaks, but you can see some doubt lingering in her eyes.

“Of course, I’ll see you there!”, you tell her as she looks at you for a moment, seemingly trying to read your expression. Before you can ask her if everything is alright you feel a soft kiss on your cheek and Clarisse running off before you can say anything.

Your mouth is wide open, and your cheeks feel like they are burning as you touch the spot where she kissed you, the feeling of her lips still lingering there. 

--

“Coming to pick up your stuff?”, you hear as you are packing up one of your shirts in the bag, Luke is leaning against one of the double beds as you look behind you.

“I am, otherwise, I will have to come back every time for my stuff. Might not be se practical,” you tell him awkwardly, you didn’t know how to act around him anymore, not after the conversation you had overheard yesterday.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” he says after a few seconds of silence, and you turn around to look at him properly.

“Thank you, never thought this day would come but it has,” the both of you look at each other for a moment before Luke sighs.

“You know that you are always welcome here, right? Don’t ever hesitate to come by, I know the younger kids will miss you,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at his words, you would also miss them and their youthful innocence. 

“I’ll miss you too,” the words make you turn to look back at him from the bunks you were looking at and you can see him now being closer to you then before.

“Really?”, you can’t help but ask, feeling unsure after what he had said to Chris but as you look into the familiar brown eyes you can’t seem to find any trace of lying.

“Of course, you were here for three years I don’t know how it will be now that you aren’t here anymore,” you want to tell him that it will probably better for him without you clinging to him as Chris has said it, but you can’t find the strength to say it.

Luke gets closer to you and suddenly you find yourself having to look slightly upwards to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he whispers, and you shake your head slowly, trying to find an answer while getting lost in his eyes.

“I won’t,” you tell him, sure of yourself and Luke seems relieved at your words before he gets even closer to you.

And for a moment the two of you look at each other, wondering what was about to happen and if you should really cross that line until the door of the cabin slams open making the both of you jump away in surprise. Silena is at the entrance of the door, looking at the both of you with angry eyes and you suddenly wonder what you had done to have the Aphrodite girl mad at you.

“I’m here to help you get your stuff to your cabin,” she says, and you would’ve found the gesture sweet if she hadn’t still been glaring at the two of you.

“Thank you, I just finished packing everything,” you say after awkwardly clearing your throat.

“I guess I’ll see you around Luke,” the boy nods in agreement, looking a bit scared to answer as the Aphrodite girl is still glaring at him.

The walk to your cabin is silent, Silena not speaking a word to you, and you know better than to try and say something when she has ignored your previous attempts at a conversation.

“You need to make a choice,” she suddenly says as you drop your bags near your bed, making you look at her with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?”, you feel confused at her statement, but she just lets out a loud sigh, looking annoyed.

“Between Luke and Clarisse, you can’t play with their emotions forever,” the words are like a slap in the face as you look at the girl with wide eyes.

“Wait-what?! I am not doing anything like that!”, you can’t help but say, your voice getting louder as you feel insulted by what she insinuated, as if you had been playing on purpose with their emotions.

“I don’t even know why you would even say that when there is nothing happening between me and Luke or me and Clarisse,” you say before she can even open her mouth and she scoffs loudly.

“You know for a daughter of Zeus you really are clueless,” she says, and you feel even more frustrated.

“What in the gods name do you mean?”, you can feel the anger coming up, as you try to remember what could possibly have led to this conversation.

“It is not my place to tell you, but you really should open up your eyes before you hurt all three of you,” she says with a cold look and you feel once again lost, you thought that the two of you had gotten closer last night but now looking at her you couldn’t remember the sweet girl from that night.

“Acting like a victim or like you don’t know what I’m talking about won’t get you anywhere,” the words feel like a slap in the face, and you try to keep yourself calm but the sound of thunder makes the two of you look up. The ceiling that had previously been a soft gray was now getting darker with thunder rumbling. 

“Get out,” you tell her before turning around, not wanting to see the girl any longer after what she had just told you. 

And for a moment you thought that she had left before her voice broke your thoughts once again, only this time softer.

“I’m sorry, for what I said it wasn’t fair,” the words are spoken softly, carefully like she wants to make sure you don’t get angry.

“It’s okay, guess you needed to say what you really thought, good to know what people think of me,” you can’t help but mutter as you put the last of your stuff away, not hearing the sigh Silena lets out.

“I didn’t think that, not really, I guess that I am protective of Clarisse and sometimes I attack people who hurt her like some kind of-”, she seems to try and find the correct word, so you turn around with raised eyebrows.

“A chihuahua?”, she snorts at the words before nodding slowly, letting you think of her previous words.

“Why do you think I hurt Clarisse? I saw her just two hours ago and everything was fine,” you tell her, and she sighs quietly before sitting down on your bed with a grimace.

“She’s going to kill me,” she whispers under her breath while you can’t help but look at her feeling confused.

“Clarisse likes you; she has for the past two years and probably before that,” the words are like a bullet, hitting you right through your chest. You don’t know what to say as you open and close your mouth multiple times. Silena has an understanding smile on her lips as she pats the spot next to her on the bed, making you sink into it while your thoughts are running wild.

“I didn’t- I really didn’t know,” you tell her, and she nods quietly, like she already knew what you were going to say.

“I know, you don’t seem to realize that people are interested in you,” she says it like a fact, and you can’t help but nod in agreement.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper but Silena seems to have heard you as she sighs.

“I think that you need to wrap your head around all of this and that you need to think about who you really have feelings for. But if you don’t go for Clarisse, please be kind to her, she looks tough, but she has a soft spot,” the words are carefully said but you can’t help but feel offended as she seems to think you would hurt the Ares girl.

“Of course, I would never hurt her,” you say quickly and Silena smiles knowingly, as if she knows something that you don’t know yet.

“Good, I’ll let you think in peace,” she says before getting up and squeezing your shoulder in reassurance.

The silence of the cabin is once again taking over the place but this time you welcome it as your head is filled with questions. Silena seemed to think that both Luke and Clarise were interested in you and that you had to make a choice. Your groan loudly as you put your head into a cushion, wondering how you were going to make a decision.

You had always liked Luke, or at least had a crush on him but as you think back of the last few days the only thing you can think about is Clarisse. The way she had quickly taken you under her wing, kissed you on the cheek and came to see you to make sure you were alright. 

Your thoughts are quickly broken by a loud bang of the door, making you jump in surprise.

“Sorry for the door but I am officially moving in!”, you hear Percy yell and as you look over the silver balcony you come face to face with a smiling Percy, a pillow under his arm and a bag with his stuff in his hand.

“You do know that we have pillows here?”, you say teasingly, unable not to smile as the boy shrugs his shoulders and starts climbing up the stairs. The sight of him makes you calm down as you finally feel at ease for a moment.

“I hope it isn’t an issue that I’m here, it just gets lonely there,” he says, looking a bit awkward for a moment but you just take his bag out of his hand to bring it to the bed on the other side of the room.

“Of course not! I’m glad that you are here, it was getting a bit to calm in here,” you say after a moment and Percy seems relieved at your words.

“So, what’s the gossip?”, Percy asks after laying down like a starfish on the bed making you snort.

“What do you want to know?”, the boy looks unsure for a moment before a mischievous grin appears.

“Everything, but perhaps what is happening between you and Clarisse at the moment,” you glare at the boy, who tries to look innocent, but you can see the mischief in his eyes.

“Fine, I need your opinion on this. But first we are making hot chocolate and face masks,” Percy seems unsure at the second option, but you give him a pointed look before picking up the stuff you would need.

And that is how you find yourself half an hour later in the living room with hot chocolate and the both of you with a face mask telling him everything that had happened.

--

The bonfire was already in full swing as you arrived with Percy, the both of you had quickly gotten ready when you had realized how late it was.

“Now go get her!”, Percy says with a big smile as you look scared for a moment, and you turn around to give him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the advice,” you say but the boy simply shrugs his shoulders, a smile on his lips.

“Always here if you need me, that is what family is for after all,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world and you can’t help but feel a bit emotional at the words.

“I’ll see you later in our cabin?”, Percy quickly nods with a large grin before giving you a thumbs up and moving towards Annabeth and Grover who were waiting for him.

You turn to look back at the rest of the bonfire, but you can’t seem to find the Ares girl, the only girl you find at that moment is Silena, who looks pained. You feel confused as to why before you turn to look closer and see Clarisse and a girl talking, or rather flirting with each other. It feels like someone has thrown a bucket of water over you as you look at the two of them, they looked perfect for each other, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy as you saw Clarisse touching the other girls leg.

“Please talk to her,” Silena says, and you turn around to suddenly find her next to you. You try to say something, but you aren’t able to as you look at both girls.

“What’s the point? She seems happy, I don’t want to disturb her,” you can’t help but say, feeling defeated.

“Look she is just acting like an idiot to get your attention, she was mad when she saw Luke and you nearly kissing so she is probably trying to see if you will react to her flirting with someone else,” Silena seems to be trying to explain everything as quickly as possible, as if she is scared that you would run out of time or that you would just leave.

“Fine, I’ll talk to her, after all it seems to be my fault she is talking to that girl. But if she tells me to leave, I am leaving,” you say, and Silena quickly nods in agreement. You take a moment to collect all the possible courage you will need before walking towards the two girls.

“Clarisse, hi, could I talk to you?”, you could’ve just started a conversation and then ask the question, but you just needed to talk to her.

“Why?”, the Ares girl suddenly asks, and you feel lost, she doesn’t seem that happy to see you and you try not to feel hurt as she looks at you like you were just some dirt on the side of the road.

“Because I need to talk to you about something, private,” you say as you quickly look at the other girl before turning back towards Clarisse.

“Why don’t you go talk with Castellan, I’m sure he’ll be interested,” she says with a mean smile, and you feel like the air has left your lungs as she turns back to the girl she was talking to.

“Clarisse, please,” you say softly and for a moment you wonder if she has heard you before you see her look up and look at something behind you. You get ready to look at what she could possibly be looking at, but she gets up before you can.

“Fine, you have five minutes,” she says, and you let out a sigh of relief as you follow her away from the bonfire and into the woods.

Your relief is quickly forgotten as you start to wonder how you are going to tell her everything. She seems impatient as she has her arms crossed in front of her and her eyebrows raised at you, making you laugh nervously.

“You know in some cultures, crossing your arms means that you are closing yourself of or protecting yourself,” you can’t help but say, and you want to slap yourself as you realize what you just said.

“So, you took me away to tell me some fun facts? Because then I am leaving,” she says and you see that she is ready to go but you take her arm and she stops immediately, looking at your hand on her arm.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous, let me start again?”, she seems unsure but nods slowly and you clear your throat.

“Right, I don’t really know how to say it, but I guess I’ll start by this. I like you Clarisse,” the words feel like a relief but is short lived as Clarisse scoffs and takes her arm out of your grip.

“Is this a joke? First Castellan now me. Did he reject you and you decided to come to the second-best option?”, the words are like a punch in the guts, and you take a few seconds to react but as you watch her leave, this time towards the lake you can’t help but react.

“Wait! Clarisse! This is not a joke!”, you yell as you follow her and you finally manage to find her as she arrives at the lake, the both of you out of breath.

“Really? How come you were so close to him this afternoon? How come after three years of pining over him you suddenly seem interested in me?”, she yells, and you can see the hurt in her eyes, the pain in them.

“Because I never knew you were an option for me. I never knew you even knew my name Clarisse, so I didn’t think that something could happen between us,” you yell back, feeling desperate for her to listen to you.

“I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize that you were there, that you always were but I am here now, and I am ready to go on my knees to beg you for just a chance,” you tell her, breathless, as you approach her. 

“I have loved you for three years,” she whispers, like a wounded animal, as if she is scared that you would hurt her but instead you take her hand in yours, unsure if she will reject you or not but she just grips it tightly.

“I know, Silena told me,” you tell her softly and her eyes widen at the words, anger coming up but you take her chin between your fingers, making her look at you.

“I am going to kill her,” she whispers, and you smile at the words.

“Please don’t, she’s the one that made me realize just how much I liked you,” you whisper, and she looks surprised for a moment before realizing just how close you were.

“She also helped me go talk to you when I was feeling jealous at the sight of you and that girl,” it’s hard to admit but as you see her eyes sparkling at the confession, you know that you did the right thing.

“Now you know how I felt,” she says, and you can’t help but feel bad.

“I know, I’m sorry for that,” you tell her, but she simply shrugs her shoulders before coming even closer to you.

“Tell me what you wanted to tell me,” she whispers and you shudder at the closeness of her lips against yours but you nod slowly, enjoying her smirk at your reaction.

“I love you Clarisse La Rue and I wanted to ask you if you would like to go on a date with me?”, you make sure that the words are said clearly, that there couldn’t be a misunderstanding.

Clarisse’s lips melting against yours is the only answer you need, as she kisses you like you are the air she needs to breath. You quickly kiss her back, one hand cupping her cheek while the other grabs onto her curls making her moan softly.

“You are going to be the death of me princess,” she whispers, breathless before bringing you into an even deeper kiss, her hands gripping your waist tightly. 

“So, I guess this is a, yes?”, you ask feeling like you are on cloud nine and as you feel her smile against your skin you know you don’t even need her to answer.

“A million times yes,” she whispers against your skin, making you shiver, before continuing to drop soft kisses against your skin.

--

Life had been better ever since that night, Clarisse often joining you into your cabin and learning to live with Percy as the two of them slowly started liking each other more. There were still quests and monsters waiting for you but as you felt her strong arms holding you closer to her, you knew everything would be alright.

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~First I love you~

Warnings‼️: use of pet names, a dash of angst for Adam and Lucifer (I’m sorry), swearing, GN!Reader, Lucifer doesn’t really say it but it’s still cute I think.

A/N:Okay I’m VERY into fluffy scenarios with these characters rn- MY HEART- thank you guys for all the love towards these and I hope you enjoy! This is sorta rushed because I’m TIRED and working on TOO MANY THINGS.;-;

~not proofread~

Vox:

I’ve mentioned this in previous headcannons with Vox, but dating someone was most definitely not part of his plan.

He views himself as this big bad overlord who would never go soft for anyone.

Dude thinks he’s too good for anybody, even Vel and Val sometimes. He’s very proud of his work and what he does and doesn’t like anyone getting in the way of that.

You’re only a slight exception.

Who he would literally do anything for

He tries to keep your guys’ relationship very much under wraps. He understands how dangerous of a person he is to be around.

Sharing your relationship to the public would basically be an open invitation for anyone who has beef with Vox,

Including a pesky radio demon

To target you.

So while he denies your guys’ relationship to anyone and everyone, it’s understood between the two of you what you guys truly have.

However, Velvette and Val are able to see right through Vox’s bullshit when he starts getting feelings for you. They see how he reacts to your messages, your affections, and your presence.

They know Vox has a soft spot for you, but since they like their heads attached to their bodies, they keep their mouths shut.

As his feelings for you grow, it became more and more obvious to anyone with common sense what was going on.

The man literally relaxes at the mention of you.

Unbeknownst to Vox, literally EVERYONE knows about your guys’ ‘secret’ relationship.

Vox doesn’t realize how easy he is to read. He’s an impulsive liar, and a good one at that, but his actions very much contradict the lies he spits.

He could literally be screaming at one of his employees for who knows what, and if you walk into the room, his eyes soften and his attention is on you.

He’s straightening out his posture, trying to look as if he wasn’t about to murder one of his employees.

(He would deal with them later)

Despite how obvious his and your feelings are towards one another, Vox still doesn’t make anything public, letting fans and overlords alike to speculate.

It was a poorly kept secret but one the two of you mutually agreed to keep.

You are in Hell afterall. Saying you were the TV faced overlords significant other was like sticking a paper on your back that says ‘Kick me’

Vox does his best to balance his life with you and his work life. Work was all he ever knew, so when you entered his afterlife, scheduling became a huge issue.

He would love to spend every moment by your side but he’s work too hard. His empire is too important to him.

So while the two of you didn’t go out too frequently on dates or outings,

(But trust me when you do, it is luxurious. He makes the limited time you spend together worth it.)

Vox was always making a way to communicate with you.

Whether that be via phone call or through text messages, he’s always making sure to make an effort to spend time with you. Even if it was just hearing your voice and seeing your words through a screen.

On your off days, he keeps you on an ongoing call in his TV room at all times. Unless you have something planned of course, then it’s back to the texting.

He would be in and out of his screen room frequently between meetings and whatever other things he had to do. The little lair of his was where he spent a lot of his time catching up on paperwork, checking up on the latest releases, and working through the insane amount of work emails he received.

All while talking to you. Whether it was ranting about his day or yours, or if it was talking about what your guys’ next date would be or even just enjoying each other's silent, distant, company.

That brought you to now; listening to your significant other rant about his overlord associates who had sprung a last minute meeting on him.

You listen to him shuffling around his office, grumbling as he put on his suit jacket.

He rambled on grumpily while you listened with an amused smile. He swore under his breath as he looked at his watch.

"Alright doll, I'll be back in about an hour."

"Boooo."

"I know, but once this bullshit is over, I just have paperwork so I'll be all yours, I’ll talk to you later."

"Alright, see you in a bit, I love you.”

“Mhm, Love you too.”

Vox hurries out of his media room without a second thought, zapping into a nearby security camera and appearing into the meeting room in a bolt of electricity.

He begrudgingly sat in his chair slumping into himself and mentally preparing for the chaos his coworkers were about to create.

As Velvette and Val went at each other throats, his mind drifted to the thought of you.

God, he would give anything to just be next to you instead on enduring this Hell within Hell.

He zoned out, thinking about how you were sitting on call in his office, waiting for his return. You were so loyal to him.

He thought about you, your company and your voice, the way you sounded when you said you loved him.

Realization hits him like a freight train, his screen glitching out a bit and his fans kicking into high gear as he replays the conversation the two of you had before his abrupt departure.

He kind of stays in stunned silence for a moment, in complete utter shock. Was he dreaming?? He said it back so casually! Too casually!

He whips out his phone, shooting you a quick text:

~“You said you loved me??????”

It takes a few seconds for you to respond, but it feels far too long for Vox.

~“Yeah? You said it back”

~“I didn’t realize I did.”

~“Oh. Did you not mean to?”

~“No!”

~“Fuck that came out wrong. Hold on.”

Vox went into panic mode, his screen glitching in and out. Velvette and Valentinos arguing becoming muted background noise.

He tried his best not to blue screen or shut down completely, taking a deep breath to regain composure before he texted you back.

~“I do. I love you too.”

And boy are you glad Vox can’t see your right now because you are sure he would be soaking in your embarrassment with that prideful grin on his face.

You knew you said it first and honestly it felt natural coming out.

But knowing Vox felt the same, hearing him saying it, or well, seeing him say it.

Seeing that he got over his own pride to just say it by himself meant a lot to you.

It made your chest feel warm with joy, your stomach fluttered with imaginary butterflies, and your face burned red from those words that somehow meant more coming from him.

But of course you couldn’t let him know how giddy he truly made you.

Please don’t boost his ego more-

So instead you respond with;

~“That’s pretty corny, flat screen.”

Your reaction to his admission completely catches Vox off guard. He finds himself smirking to himself, somehow feeling better with you not taking him too seriously.

He couldn’t even hear his coworkers screaming at him, wanting his input on the subject they were arguing about.

He just chuckles to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket. Giving fake hums and nods of acknowledgment. Replaying those three little words in his head over and over and over.

Adam:

Holy shit, this man is too up his own ass to realize how bad he’s got it for you.

Don’t get me wrong, the man’s stuck up. He’s selfish. But whatever you ask?

Yeah you’ve got it or it’s at least getting done by the end of the day.

He’s got it bad.

He usually denies your request at first. He’s ’above such things’.

But whatever request it may be, whether it be him stopping to get food or requesting a late night cuddle session. He’s a sucker for you.

And everyone knows it but he will deny it to no end. No way is he soft for you. Nu-uh.

Because of his status and massive ego, it stops him from acting how he wants to around you for a long time.

Like, he’d love to hold your hand, be with you 24/7 in the streets of heaven.

But deep down he’s super self conscious about getting into a relationship. Man lost not one, but TWO wives that’s were MADE for him.

You’re good at getting him to show his true colors though. Straightening him out when he’s pushed too far.

He definitely made a big show about asking you out as well. Mostly to make himself less nervous about doing it.

According to him ‘it’s an honor he’s even asking you’

Which lead to you giving him a death glare and ignoring his ask the rest of the day until he asked you genuinely.

(He then surprised you at the end of the day with chocolates, a romantic dinner, and a huge blanket fort, where you guys cuddled and watched movies until 2 am. Where he asks you again to be his partner properly this time, not letting his ego get the better of him.)

But that aside, you’re one of the few people who can see through Adam’s egotistical exterior.

I hc that he’s a big softie. So oh boy, when you utter these three little words to him, they gain so much more meaning.

I mean we already know the man loves praise. Hearing it from you is a whole different level of euphoria.

It was the morning of an extermination, and while you weren’t meant to know, Adam couldn’t keep anything from you. You ended up finding out about his yearly activities in killing sinners.

The two of you didn’t speak of it often. It’s not like Adam was supposed to speak on the matter anyways.

But when you heard about the exterminations now coming twice a year?

You couldn’t help but feel nervous for your significant other. Sure Adam was strong, but who knew what the hell spawn were capable of?

Adam had finished getting dressed, walking out of his room with his mask in hand.

He seemed like a giddy child, muttering excitedly how he ready he was. It was a way to get the adrenaline flowing and get him hyped for the big day.

Despite how gruesome it was, he did love his job and the praise he received for it.

You’re laying on the couch watching Adam, hearing only your heartbeat in your ears. You watch Adam put on his mask, looking towards you and giving a small wave.

“Alright babe! I’ll see ya later. Hey, you should order from that one kick ass pizza place tonight! Celebration dinner after I wipe out those fuckin’ hellspawn!”

You’re quick to blink out of your panicked daze, swinging your legs over the cushions and nearly tripping over yourself as you go over to him before he can get out the door.

You let out a breath, brushing off nonexistent dust off his pristine war outfit.

“Just.. don’t be stupid. Alright? Don’t go biting off more than you can chew.”

“Uhh. Babe. You do realize who you’re dating right?? I’m fucking Adam! The original-.”

“Original dick, first man, yes yes I know.”

He looked at you through his mask, his grin faltering at the edges when he saw your eyes drowning in worry that you hid behind a nervous smile.

You avoid his gaze, continuing to try and find things in his outfit to straighten out before he can leave.

If you’re lucky, you’ll find something bad enough causing him to have to stay home.

Where it was safe with you.

Adam puts a hand over your own, stopping you from brushing imaginary fuzz off the front of his shirt.

You meet his gaze, and despite his mask being on, you see a genuine soft smile. One of adoration and reassurance.

One that made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

You press a quick kiss against his mask where a projection of his lips were.

He always hated when you did that. You depriving him of your real soft lips against his own.

Just ask him to take the mask off, he would do it if it meant he could kiss you.

Before he can complain, you gently squeeze his hand, letting out a whispered voice. Almost sounding too nervous- no, too scared- to speak.

“I love you.. please be careful..”

You go to let go of his hand so he can be on his merry way. But he’s quick to process your words.

He tightens his grip on your hand, pulling you in closer to him. A look of shock is evident on his face.

He squeezes your hand, pulling you against his chest. He moves his face, almost uncomfortably close, with his mask causing forced distance between you.

“Say that again.”

Now you were a little confused.

What did you even say again?

Did Adam suddenly get cold feet with the whole extermination?

He kept your body in a sort of pose that looked like you were going to start dancing.

His one hand in your own, holding tightly while his other arm wrapped around your torso, hand pressed against the small of your back to keep you close.

Your body pressed against his, it seemed he only wanted you closer, keeping a firm arm wrapped around your torso while you waited for you to repeat your words.

You look up at Adam, repeating your own words in your head. The realization of what you said and, what he wanted to hear again from you, made your face flush from light shades of pink to dark hues of red.

Adam has a smug grin on his face, keeping his tight grip on you. Refusing to let you go until you give him what he wants.

You see the look on his face and roll your eyes a bit while smiling. In a sudden rush of confidence, you kiss his mask again, wiping that smug smirk off his face.

“I love you.. be careful.”

You repeat, once again before Adam can complain about your teased kisses.

Part of Adam is glad you can’t see his face, which was burning red from your actions and words. You speaking sweetness enough to make him melt in your arms.

Those three little words that seemed so cliche before you uttered them.

He lets go of your hand so he can lift his mask off over his head. As soon as it’s off, he’s leaning in to kiss you. Just before his lips reach yours, whispering back a small:

“I love you too, babe.”

And just like that, he’s kissing you in the most soft and genuine way Adam can be. How he always was with you.

You didn’t know that would be the first and last time you would get to utter those words to your partner.

You didn’t know Adam wouldn’t be returning back to heaven after his expedition.

You didn’t know you’d only be able to hold his empty halo, whispering the lost words you never got to say to him.

Adam never planned to leave you alone questioning your faith.

You didn’t know, but at least Adam knew you loved him before it was too late.

Lucifer:

Another big sap despite his title.

Of ya know. The devil.

He met you a few months after Lillith left. So you saw him at rock bottom.

You met him at rock bottom. Wallowing in sorrows and self pity, waiting for his wife to return.

You never did pry at the king, one because he was your superior, and two because he was never in the right mind space to listen to you.

You offered an ear when he needed, an occasional shoulder to lean on when Lucifer had downed too many bottles.

You made sure the king stayed fed and physically stable. Forcing him out of bed on bad days.

(Well i wouldn’t say forcing. You’d sit beside him, rubbing his back while he lets gentle tears fall down his face. Whispering reassuring words and asking what he wants to eat so he would get up and get his desired meal you serve)

(It’s more of convincing and encouraging)

Lucifer had spent his eternity with Lillith. Having been with someone so long, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

He was angry. He was grief stricken. He was confused. He was sad.

Her departure tore him and the family they had made apart.

You made him feel normal again. Like he wasn’t a failure of a king, husband, and father. You made him feel okay about himself.

Slowly over the years, Lucifer was recovering. It was painfully slow, but you had patience. These things took time overall.

He would never truly be over his wife’s leaving, not really knowing the reason why she had gone, only blaming himself for it.

A part of his heart was torn out that day, but you worked to fill it with new hope.

Lucifer is completely blind to your doing for awhile. I mean he spent a couple years disassociated from everything.

You provided everything for him and he barely knew anything about you. What was your intent in the first place?

He did ask you this once, why you were helping him. Why you did what you did.

Your reason was simple but struck a chord with Lucifer.

You said he deserved to be loved.

Loved.

He had half the mind to burst out in tears right then and there

After that admission, Lucifer set a goal to become a sort of equal to you. To provide for you as you had for him.

The newfound determination to basically serve you got the king of hell up and moving again.

What the two of you had felt so domestic. Cooking and cleaning together, tending to the garden Lucifer had made with Lillith. He couldn’t bare to step foot in it after she left.

But when he saw you out there in the garden covered in dirt and mud, yanking pesky weeds from the ground.

He couldn’t help but go out there. He didn’t even know you had been tending to it.

Most life had died in the garden with Lucifer’s marriage. Painful and sad

It became a midday chore for you while Lucifer grieved indoors. You caught eye of the gardens beauty one day and thought to spruce it up a bit.

When Lucifer was on his feet again, he joined you in this chore. Trimming away dead branches, pulling weeds, picking fruit that had ripened enough.

While he could just use his angelic power to grow these things, nurturing the plants from the start and watching them thrive and bloom was something he enjoyed ever since creation started.

It was something so special to him. So pure and a reminder of home.

The two of you grew closer with this shared chore, it didn’t quite feel like a chore anymore. As it was something the two of you looked forward to now.

Lucifer could feel himself falling. It was what he was prone to doing. But he couldn’t bring himself to be that vulnerable again.

Everytime he had fallen it left him bruised and lost. And if he lost you, he didn’t know if anyone would come pick him up again.

He could only get so lucky so many times.

He was currently looking at an open space near the center of the extensive garden. Where several paths met up in the middle of the garden. Where large trees formed a sort of dome shape protecting anything beneath them.

Lucifer hummed to himself, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, spreading the dirt on his fingertips to his face.

He glanced at how much space there was in the center of the garden. He always thought the center was bland. Sure you could lay down and look up towards Hell’s blood skies, but after centuries of seeing nothing but red above him, the sight got boring.

Besides, his creativity was bubbling in him. Begging for something new.

With a point of his finger, golden hues shot out, a large fountain forming in the middle of the gardens. It wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the trees above, but it did challenge them.

The white cement water fountain had edges to sit comfortably, three tiers, with little ducks on the middle layer spitting out water into the pool below.

Gold accents decorated each layer of the fountain. The pool to hold the water having a ruby red color, making the water appear like blood when it sat at the bottom.

Lucifer walked around the fountain, looking over every detail of his work. Making sure it was pristine and perfect.

He enjoyed it for the smallest moment, leaning his hands against the base of the fountain, leaning in to look at his reflection.

He then grew frustrated, not able to enjoy his own creation. It wasn’t good enough, not if it was made from his hands.

He growled, slapping his hand through the water, causing it to splash out. He gripped the edge of the fountain, gritting his teeth.

“Goodness..”

Your voice made him quite frankly jump into the air, falling onto his butt. His head snapped in your directions.

Your eyes were blown wide while you stared at Lucifer’s newest creation. Hands gripping a basket of freshly picked produce from the garden.

The king sits up, stuttering over himself as you move closer to get a better look at the fountain.

“You made this?”

You ask quietly, gently running your fingertips against the designs of the sides of the fountain, feeling the smooth detailing.

“Yeah I know.. it’s uh.. it’s-..”

“It’s beautiful.”

Lucifer visibly tenses at your words, looking up at you with eyes wide in shock.

He was dumbfounded, he looked like a child sitting on the ground just staring at you like this.

You look down at him, seeing his eyes wide and his jaw practically hanging on the floor. You can’t help but chuckle, deciding to take a seat next to him.

You set the basket between the two of you. Picking up a peach from the basket.

“The produce is growing lovely this year.”

You compliment the gardens hard work. Lucifer blinks out of his daydream, looking at the basket between the two of you.

His heart swells with joy. A sense of accomplishment that his creation, something he made, you thought it was beautiful.

His eyes trail to you. The light peering through the branches above you casting perfect rays on your skin.

Your company felt like home. It felt warm and comforting.

And in this light, in the garden, you looked just like…

“I love y-..”

Lucifer starts to speak before his mind can stop him. When you meet his gaze, his voice catches in his throat.

His face flushes golden colors when he caught himself almost daring to say that to you.

He lets out a comedic laugh, awkward and loud.

“..youuurrr COMPANY! Hah! Wow what a nice day! Gee golly, can’t imagine it any other way haha!”

You stare at him for a moment. Of course you were use to Lucifer’s occasional awkwardness behavior, but often times you had to read between the lines to understand what he truly meant/wanted to say.

You kind of got at what he was trying to say, your heart starting to beat fast in your chest at the thought of it.

But it wasn’t the right time. You knew Lucifer wasn’t ready.

You offer her a small smile, handing the fruit to Lucifer. You reach a hand up to wipe the dirt off his chin.

“I love it too. Any day with you.”

Lucifer’s face flushed gold once again, shoulders relaxing. He instinctively leaned into your touch, looking up at the fountain.

Patience. So patient with him.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Reaching New Heights

While under the impression that she has the house to herself, y/n enjoys some much needed alone time. Jake, planning on coming home to surprise her, walks himself straight into a whole new world.

Based off this request 🤍

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, virgin reader/losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), masturbating (f!receiving), simultaneous orgasm, multiple orgasm, very soft dom type beat, slight cockwarming if you squint, dry humping, touch of spit play, touch of voyeurism, praise, dirty talk, name calling, begging, very very sweet Jake ☹️, anxiety, fluff, swearing, talks of bad dating experiences, sorry if I miss any!

thank to the lovely anon who requested this! sorry for all of my other requests waiting, I promise I’m getting there! I had an idea like this already sitting in the drafts, so when I saw this request I had to write it! I hope this is what you were looking for, and I do apologize for this basically just being pwp. As always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! 🤍 (extremely lightly edited)

Intimacy, especially in the sexual context, had always been a touchy subject for you. It wasn’t because of any moral dilemmas, nor because of bad past experiences. You weren’t saving yourself for marriage, and you did not value your virginity as a ‘virtue’. You simply chose not to engage because you had never met anyone who you believed was right for you. You had plenty of dates and failed talking stages with men who only ever seemed interested in getting in your pants, but you had never met someone who seemed interested in you beyond anything sexual. You wanted to explore, to test your own limits and discover yourself with another person, but you could not bring yourself to undress for someone who only wanted (and planned) to leave after the fact.

You were comfortable with your own routine, and after a while it seemed more likely that you would remain a virgin until your hair turned gray and you were sat in a nursing home. At first, it bothered you, but then it became the most normal part of your life. You would rather keep to yourself than give away a part of you to someone who would not appreciate it. Most people weren’t interested in dating once you specified that you would not put out on the first date, and to you, that was okay; they weren’t worth your time or effort. Life was simple without anyone else empeding on your routine, anyway.

Then, one fateful day at a lovely, locally owned music store, you found yourself in front of someone who changed your world entirely, flipping it on its axis and throwing your whole life off course. You had (literally) run into him when you were least expecting it; he had stepped in front of you as you were bustling to the counter to pay for your handful of vinyl records. He apologized profusely, landing a gentle hand on your arm to make sure you were steady on your feet and he hadn’t hurt you. You were too enthralled in the beauty of his face to comprehend the words he was speaking, anyway. His long brown hair hung down to frame his face, and his warm, chocolate coloured eyes seemed to be staring straight into your soul. His smile was inviting, and his charm was unexplainable. He’d made you fall for him without even trying.

Once you managed to overcome your nervous staring, you forced a smile and assured him you were alright. He introduced himself, hesitant to believe you were telling the truth, and insisted on buying your records for you as an apology. After a drawn out back-and-forth argument, he eventually managed to convince you that it was the only apology he would allow for himself. Before you ventured to the counter, you took interest in the specific guitar he was fawning over on the wall. After explaining the details to you, you were left feeling disappointed at the prospect of having to part with him once you stepped out the door.

He ended up buying your records, and the guitar hanging on the wall, but he didn’t seem to want to let you leave without anything more, either.

So, instead of going your separate ways, you ended up at a diner just down the street, sharing lunch and getting to know each other as best as you could in the limited time you had. Laughs were plentiful and fulfillment was felt from all sides. Jake Kiszka was the man you had been waiting for, someone who saw you as a person, not just something to fuck. He was interested in every small detail, and he wanted to know everything he could about you. He was a bit shy, and very nervous, but he was sweet, kind, and he took your breath away. When you left the restaurant, you had a new found excitement for life, and a phone number in your contact list that would now be called on the daily.

At first, the relationship was built slowly and carefully. The two of you started as friends, texting each other regularly and trying your best to discover all of the intimate details about each other. Then, when you guys built up enough courage, you started going on small dates; movie nights, dinner dates, Sunday afternoon drives… you wanted to do anything and everything with him. He quickly became your closest friend and your most trusted confidant. You spent so much time together that it was almost strange not being in the same place. Of course, eventually, his time to tour came around, and it threw your life so violently off track that it was nearly hard to function.

When he first told you, you tried to force a smile and pretend all was well, but he knew you better than that. He could see the sadness in your eyes, and the apprehension. You were both so head over heels for each other that it made it hard to think of anything else. All of the late night phone calls and evenings spent immersed in each other had finally resulted in something much bigger. You were in love, and you were terrified for him to leave you. You feared that once he was gone, he would find someone more exciting, more interesting. Little did you know, he was afraid of all the same things.

So, as you sat in his living room while he packed up the last of his things, he dropped a sly comment about you taking care of his place while he was gone, coming over and watering his plants, and even staying the night if you missed him too much. It was his indirect way of giving you a key to his house, and in turn, his heart. He slipped the spare key from his pocket, handing it over and giving you a smile. Before he went to the airport, you found yourselves confessing your hearts and kissing with tears running down your face. He asked you to be his girlfriend before he ever got on the plane.

Every night, when he was holed up in a different hotel room, he was calling you with excitement, unable to wait to tell you all about his day. It was a different kind of feeling, falling in love with someone without anything other than emotional connection. After a year of touring and only being home with you for a few days at a time, he was growing restless and more eager to be with you again. By the time he got home from traveling the world, he missed you so much that he rarely let you leave his side. Within a few months, your belongings were packed up and ready to be taken to his house, and not long after that, it was no longer just Jake’s house, it was yours, too.

When the two of you were together, it grew increasingly more difficult to navigate your lack of sexual experience. He was very affectionate, his hands always on you and kissing you whenever he could. You felt that he was getting frustrated with your rejections, and it forced you into a corner. You had to open up to him, to tell him the truth and that your avoidance was not because of him at all. You sat him down not long after the two of you moved in together, knowing that you should have confessed to him sooner, and fearful that it would change the way he viewed you.

But, almost as if Jake was put on the earth to challenge every single previous idea you had about men, he smiled and held you, expressing his gratitude that you were comfortable enough to share such things with him. He fell in love with you without sex, and that did not change anything for him. You were worth much more to him than that, and he wanted to make sure you knew it. He thanked you for telling him, and he apologized if he ever made you uncomfortable with his actions before your discussion. He promised that he would never push you, and you could take as much time as you needed to open up and explore that with him.

He was a dream come true, and after a few months, you could easily see that he was determined to stay true to his word. He didn’t once make you feel bad for wanting to wait a little longer, and he never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. Soon after, you began to realize that Jake truly was the one for you, and that all of your previous fears were quickly becoming obsolete. He did not want you for sex; he loved you for your heart, and when you were ready, he would love you for everything else, too.

Even while you found yourself amidst heated make out sessions, and you could feel how much he wanted you, he never pushed you further. When you laid in bed, and he inevitably found his hands becoming more and more curious, he stopped himself before you even had to say anything. He looked the other way when you were getting changed, and even closed his eyes and left the room if he accidentally walked in on you in an awkward position. He was the epitome of patience and kindness, and the longer you watched him respect you in such a way, the harder you fell for him.

You made sure to thank him often, expressing your appreciation for his patience and his willingness to wait. He valued you so highly, and your comfort was always his top priority. Sometimes, you feared that if you made him wait too long, he would begin to lose interest, but every day he proved to you that he was in it for the long haul. He wanted to be with you, and it did not matter in which way. He loved you, and if waiting made you most comfortable, then he would wait forever for you. It quickly became apparent to you that he was the love of your life, and the prospect of sharing that part of you became more enticing every single day.

It was not like you didn’t want to have sex with Jake; if anything, you wanted it so badly that it made it hard to think of anything else sometimes. Once the fear faded away, it was replaced with awkwardness and uncertainty on the topic. You feared that because of your lack of experience, it would be disappointing for him. There were so many questions that you did not know the answer to, and they plagued you almost every time you thought about it. What if he thought you were stupid because you didn't know what you were doing? What if he wasn’t interested in you once you took your clothes off? What if you did nothing but embarrass yourself?

It was all too much sometimes, and you knew the best way to deal with it was to talk to him, but the topic was daunting for you, and it was embarrassing. It was something you knew little about, and it made you feel silly and even a little naïve. You didn’t know what you liked, and you certainly didn’t know how to do anything that he liked. You knew that with the patience that Jake had shown you, he would be nothing but kind in bed, and he would certainly help you figure everything out, but it was so scary to think about, and it was easier for you to avoid it. You were afraid of looking dumb, and the fear hindered you more than anything else. In the time you spent with him, it became more clear that Jake was what you’d been waiting for the whole time, but now you were facing a whole new challenge; being vulnerable enough to let him show you the ropes.

Every so often, curiosity got the best of you, and you let your eyes linger on him a little too long when he was shirtless, and an unfamiliar feeling would blossom in your stomach. He would move a certain way, or his hand would move a little too far up your thigh, and you would be plagued with temptation to touch him. He would wear certain clothes that would drive you crazy when you looked at him for long enough, and it was becoming harder to ignore every single day. He was what you wanted, and it was so difficult to feel that way when you felt paralyzed at the thought of progressing any further. Jake was driving you crazy, and he wasn’t even doing it intentionally; he was just existing, and that was enough to push you closer and closer to the edge.

Like when he would stretch, and a peek of his tanned stomach would be visible, showing you his treasure trail and a slight hint of a v-line, or when he was sleeping so soundly and turned on to his side to pull you to his chest. The feeling of his body against yours was intense, and the longer he held you to him, he more turned on he would get. An ache would begin between your legs as he slept soundly behind you, his erection pressing into your ass. He wouldn’t even realize it, but he would pull you closer to relieve the ache and give him some much needed friction. You would let it play out; you enjoyed it so much, but you could not seem to voice that to him while he was awake. When he woke and realized the extent of his actions, he apologized profusely while you continued to imagine what it would be like if he kept going, pulling your shorts down just enough to give himself access to you.

You imagined what it would feel like as he rested himself against your entrance, speaking softly in your ear as he talked you through it. How he would put his fingers in his mouth, collecting enough spit to lubricate them before his hand drifted between your thighs. You wondered what it would feel like for his fingers to be tracing around your clit instead of your own, how excited he would be just from touching you alone. Your skin tingled at the thought of his rough fingertips gently working at you as he whispered encouragement in your ear, eventually working you up enough to add his cock to you, too. The picture of him being inside you was too much to bear, and just the thought of feeling so close to him was intoxicating. You had to force a smile on your face while apologized, assuring him you were alright while you thought of all of the filthy things that he could be doing to you. You wanted it so bad, but when you finally found enough courage to ask that of him, the words seemed to get stuck in your throat.

When he would leave for errands, or when he would go to work in the mornings, you would think back on the incidents that caused the flutter in your belly. The longer you focused on it, the more uncomfortable you became. You would work yourself up to the point of no return, and you would have to relieve yourself before Jake got back. In your shared bed, you would let your hand slip between your legs as you thought of all of the things Jake did to you without even knowing it. It wouldn’t take long until you were a mess, muttering his name as you reached a climax that was stronger than any you’d ever felt before.

It was almost routine, now. You were so needy that every time Jake stepped out for a moment, you would have to take the time and get yourself off. It was the only way you could keep up with the temptations without having to open up to him about it. He would come home, and you would smile and kiss him as if your fingers hadn’t just been playing with your own cunt while you imagined it was him doing it, instead.

This small ritual was exactly what happened on that specific day; you had grown so comfortable with it that when Jake left for the studio in the morning, you couldn’t wait to finish your household chores so you could cut straight to the point. You kissed him goodbye, wishing him a good day, and watched as he walked to his car, guitar case in his hand as he blew a kiss to you over his shoulder. The jeans he was wearing were tight, hugging every inch of his legs and showcasing every small detail to you. The denim sat nicely over his ass, and unfortunately for you, every other part of him that you tried your best not to think about. His shirt was old, the button up beginning to fray at the sleeves and the fabric becoming thin and worn. He had the last two buttons done, but left the top open as always. The soft, tanned skin of his chest made your mouth water and your stomach twist with desire. You did not know how much longer you could hold yourself back.

He got in his car and drove away, but you stayed at the door, watching the now empty space for a moment longer while you collected your thoughts. You were so worked up that your cheeks were burning and your heart was thudding dramatically against your chest. You forced yourself to shower, taking some extra time to shave and really make yourself feel good. You did the dishes, and you grabbed something to eat, and you wondered if you might be able to curb the urge that day. Once you were away from him and busy with other things, the need seemed so much smaller.

As you sat down to eat, you knew that it was absolutely impossible to ignore such a feeling, because the minute your mind was left without a distraction, Jake was the only thing it wanted to focus on. You forced your lunch into you, remembering that Jake said his day at the studio might be a little longer than the last. You had ample time to really draw the whole experience out, so that’s what you did. When you made it to your bedroom, you knew you had about an hour until he was home again. You took off your clothes, put on some music, only quietly so you could hear if the front door opened, you turned off the lights, and you laid on his side of the bed. You closed your eyes, breathing slowly as you remembered the morning the two of you spent together. It started sweet, like always.

You woke up with Jake next to you, the scent of his shampoo lingering in the sheets as the soft sounds of his snores filled your ears. You looked back over your shoulder at him, smiling as you admired the peaceful expression on his face. He was shirtless, as always, only a pair of boxers on as the comforter covered up his lower half. You watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed, and his stomach, too. You knew you shouldn’t have looked for so long, because the longer you stared, the more curious you became. You reached out, settling your hand on his stomach gently, a little lower than you usually would. You let your fingers drift over the skin, sending a light tickle through him. He tensed slightly at the feeling, but did not wake. After a few seconds, he woke up just enough to realize it was you touching him.

He moved onto his side, draping an arm over your waist as he pulled you closer to him. Every morning went the same, and you looked forward to it every day. He guided you into him, resting your back against his bare chest. His warmth was comforting, and you wished to live in the moment forever. His hand that was wrapped around you drifted underneath your shirt, resting on your stomach as he brought you even closer to him. The curve of your ass fit perfectly against his hips and his nose was brushing against your shoulder. His head was buried in the crook of your neck as he placed a gentle kiss on it. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine and you closed your eyes. He seemed more awake than he usually was, but not completely aware.

You brought your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his own. Once you felt like he’d drifted off to sleep again, you guided his hand upwards even further, so it was resting on your rib cage just below your breast. You wanted to take it further, but instead, you pushed your ass back into him a little. In his sleepy state, the small feeling prompted a physical reaction. His breathing quickened, but he didn’t move any further. For a moment, you had to question if he was awake too, or if he was stuck in a dream about the exact position you were laying in. His rough fingertips against your skin was intoxicating, and you needed more, but you were too afraid to wake him and tell him so.

You moved your hips against him again, feeling his fingers tighten against you. His knuckles brushed against the underside of your breast, and even in a sleeping state, he could recognize that feeling from anywhere. On his own, he moved his hand up further, cupping it in his palm as his head nuzzled further into your neck. Your breath caught in your throat and that familiar feeling began to pulse in the pit of your stomach. His grip grew stronger, and for a moment, you really did believe that he was awake. His thumb drifted over your hardened nipple, causing your hips to move against him again.

You could feel his erection growing against you, becoming more noticeable as each second passed. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the ache begin to make itself known. Your breathing sped, and your heart pounded against your chest. His hand stayed on your chest for only a moment until a small noise escaped him, his own need showing even while he was asleep. His hand traveled down your body, landing on your hip as he pulled you back on him. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to keep yourself quiet. You bit down on your lip, scared to make a sound in case he woke and the moment ended.

His fingers held you tightly as he pulled you back on to him, his cock painfully hard as his hips moved against your ass. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, and you could only imagine that he was feeling the same type of desperation amidst his dreams. Then, as your heart raced, you heard him whisper your name so delicately that a shiver ran down your spine. He wasn’t just dreaming of sex; he was dreaming of you.

Instead of focusing on what came after, when he woke up with embarrassment written in his features and apologies on his tongue, you pretended what it would be like if you had the courage to tell him to keep going. As you thought of it, you let your hand slip between your thighs. You were already aching for relief, your arousal pooling and showing you just how bad you needed him. You let your middle finger begin tracing slow circles around your clit as your mind clung to thoughts of Jake and just how much you wanted him to take care of you.

You imagined his dark eyes growing heavy as he woke, apologizing being the last thing on his mind. You imagined the desperation in his movement as his fingers dipped below your shorts, moving back from you only for long enough to pull them down over your ass. You thought about how good it would feel to have his hand drift to your cunt, relieving the ache that he’d become so good at causing. You didn’t want him to ask if it was okay, or for any type of permission. You wanted him to have you however he wanted, and you would just be thankful that he was giving you anything at all.

“How does that feel, Angel?” He asked, his voice raspy and rough from sleep as his fingers trace around your aching clit. “Does that feel good? Is this what you want?”

“F-fuck, yes, Jake.” You whine, moving your hips forward to meet his hand, so needy and he barely even touched you yet.

“Just want me to take care of you, baby? Need me to show you how good I can make you feel?” His normally sweet and doting personality was gone, replaced with an animalistic desire after waiting so long to have you. You could feel his cock pressing into your ass, still aching to be touched. He needed you so bad that it was impossible to hide it. “You know I’ll always take care of you, sweet girl… give you anything you want.”

“Y-you, Jake. I want you.” You pleaded, feeling yourself clench around nothing. You wanted him so badly, and you weren’t sure if you could wait any longer.

“You want me, sweetheart?” He crooned, the sound of your desperation sending a shiver down his spine. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes please,” you plead, feeling your stomach twist with pleasure.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered, his tone resembling a growl. He drew his hand from you, pulling his boxers down just enough to free himself. He brought his hand to his mouth, spitting on it and stroking himself for a few moments. He moved his hips forward, resting the tip of his cock against your entrance. “How bad do you want it, sweetheart.” His low tone settled deep in your bones, making your entire body quiver.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath stuck in your throat as you feel him push inside of you.

You worked yourself up to the point of absolute desperation. You felt like you were on the brink of insanity, your skin was on fire and your mind was a mess with thoughts of the boy you were so in love with. You were so deep in the fantasy that you could feel it, as if he was in front of you, touching you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You were sweating, your heart racing and your stomach twisted into knots. You needed to let go, but more than that, you needed him.

Little to your knowledge, Jake was unlocking the front door, a sneaky smile on his face as a bouquet of flowers was held tightly in his hand. He’d been planning this all week; coming home from the studio early to surprise you, just to see the look on your face. He’d been working more often than usual as of late, and he felt like he wasn’t spending enough time with you. He’d specifically told you he’d be later than he actually would be, just so he wouldn’t ruin the element of shock. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he expected to be greeted by you soon after. His confusion grew as he looked to the kitchen and did not see you there. Next, he checked the living room, wondering if you were curled up on the couch reading a book.

When he couldn’t find you there, he figured the only other place you would be is the bedroom. Your car was outside, and you hadn’t mentioned having to run any errands that day. He took to the stairs, wondering if you decided to take a nap or watch a movie in bed. As he climbed to the top of the stairs, he noticed the soft drift of music through the door. He smiled to himself, knowing he would find you wrapped up in blankets and dozing away the day. He could curl up next to you, holding you close while you slept, and maybe even fall asleep beside you. As he reached the door, he was about to reach out and turn the knob, but he froze in his tracks.

An unfamiliar, incredibly enticing sound reached his ears. It was muffled, barely heard over the speaker and through the closed door, but he caught it. Instead of interrupting, he waited and listened, wondering if his ears were deceiving him. He moved his head closer to the door, nearly pressing his ear against the hollow wood as he strained to hear, trying to piece together the situation.

You were so lost in your own little world that you did not hear the door open downstairs, nor did you hear his footsteps in the hallway. You were so close to an orgasm that not much could distract you from it. Your eyes were shut, your breathing labored as you pictured how softly his hands would drift over the curves of your hips, and how intoxicating his tongue on your skin would feel. You thought of the sweet words rolling off his tongue, the imaginary praise and encouragement driving you even closer to a climax. He would be so sweet, so attentive and caring, and you knew he’d make you feel better than you ever had before. You couldn’t help it, the moans falling from your lips were obscene and his name was delicately mixed within them as if he was in there with you, causing the pleasure himself.

He listened carefully, his cheeks flushing with pleasure at the sound of pleasure stuck on your lips. Desire filled him, running all the way from his throat down to his stomach. It made his chest burn and his skin tingle with excitement. In an instant, he’d forgotten about the romantic gesture and the flowers in his hand; he was only focused on wanting to be the reason those sounds were laced around your tongue. He didn’t want to interrupt, and he feared that if he opened the door, he would embarrass you to death. He worried about overstepping, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but the sounds were so beautiful that it made his head spin. He tried to force himself to stop listening, fearing he was breaching your trust and invading your privacy, but he couldn’t will himself to walk away.

He was growing increasingly frustrated as he stood and listened, his heart pounding against his chest and his whole body aching with desire. He could feel himself growing more turned on, his cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans as his own desperation became stronger. He palmed himself through the fabric, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He knew he should walk away, leave you alone to finish up and go take care of his own problem. It was the right thing to do, and he knew that, but the idea of you touching yourself, possibly to the thought of him, was so enticing.

Just as he thought he could find the strength to walk away, he heard the sound, so gentle and loving that he could not withstand it any longer.

“Oh god, Jake.” You whined, the sound floating through the door and settling deep in his chest. “Jake…”

It was too much for him. His hand shot out, clasping around the doorknob as he gently pushed it open. The light flooded the room, illuminating you laying so intimately on his side of the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, blotchy with red patches. A thin layer of sweat had formed over your body, only making you all the more beautiful to him. Your lips were parted, his name still caught on your tongue as your hand was settled between your legs, working intently at your cunt. Your head turned to the side, your eyes wide with shock as you tried to process the sudden change in the situation. You were so caught up in pleasure that your hand didn’t even move away from your clit as you locked eyes with him.

Suddenly, your brain seemed to catch up with the situation, and embarrassment began to take over. You panicked, scrambling to move your hand away and cover yourself with the blanket, but he took a step closer and shook his head, speaking lowly to you.

“Don’t be shy, Angel.” He rasped, looking down over you with dark eyes. The man before you seemed to be a stranger, nothing like he was in the morning before he left, but in the best possible way. The calm, domineering tone was so different, but it was fantastic all in the same. He looked down at you, his lips curled into a slight smirk as he stood over you at the foot of the bed. The desire he’d been holding back for so long seemed to be coming to the surface. He couldn’t help himself, and a part of you was thankful for it. “Don’t stop, sweetheart. You can put on such a good show.” His eyes lingered over your face, watching you closely to see if you were uncomfortable. Instead of discomfort, you seemed curious, excited, even.

And you were. You didn’t intend for the situation to turn into this, but perhaps it was the best possible outcome. You had been so afraid to have sex with Jake, and for reasons that were completely irrelevant. He was the man you’d fallen so deeply in love with, and someone you wanted to share this part of you with, too. Him walking in on you allowed you to avoid the awkward conversations and nervous stuttering, because you were already worked up to the point of no return. This made the part you were dreading so much easier, and the look in his eye made you feel foolish for ever thinking he wouldn’t love your body just as much as he loved your heart. Something in his expression told you that he would give you all of the direction you needed if you allowed him to do so.

Slowly, you pushed the blanket away from your body, returning your hand to its earlier position. You continued holding his gaze as you brought your middle finger back to your clit, tracing slow circles while he gave you a smile of satisfaction.

“So this is what you get up to when I’m gone all day?” He asked, his tone low and gravelly. He was so overcome with lust that it was impossible to think of anything else. “As soon as I leave, you come up here and play with that pretty little cunt, without me?” His expression was stern, his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. You could see his cock strained against his pants, and the fact that he was really standing before you rather than existing in your imagination was making the pleasure all the more intense. His words were filthy, but for some reason, it didn’t seem to scare you. You’d been fantasizing about words like that coming from his mouth since the first day you met him.

“Y-yeah,” you nod, stuttering slightly. He didn’t care, nor did he notice, anyway. Your embarrassment was growing smaller with every passing second, and the desire in his eyes made the whole thing seem less terrifying. To see him want you so badly made your stomach twist into knots. He gave you a small smile at the word, happy to see that you weren’t shutting him out. The small expression was enough encouragement for you to keep going.

“Do you think of me, Angel?” He asked, his gaze flickering down to your hand, working carefully to build yourself back up to an orgasm. “Do you wish that I was here doing it, instead?” He asked, reaching one hand down to his cock, adjusting himself in his pants to make it more comfortable while he watched. Your eyes were fixated on his hand, cheeks red at the thought. You wanted to see more, but you weren’t sure what to do next. You were so out of your comfort zone, but something about being able to do it with Jake made it all the more easier. “Come on, baby. Talk to me.” His voice was softer, now, showing you that he was willing to help you through it.

“I-I do,” you nod, catching his eye again. Somewhere in his pupil, he was trying to tell you that it was okay, and you believed it.

“You want to show me what you do when I’m not here?” He asked, gauging your comfort level with his questions.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathe, nodding again. He gave you another smile, licking his lips slightly. To see him look at you in such a way was almost too much to resist. Instead of jumping straight into it, you let him talk you through it, slowly and steadily.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Just like that.” He said, watching as your hand worked at your cunt. “Then, once you finish, maybe I can show you what it’s like when someone else does it for you.” He posed it like a statement, but he was asking for permission. He needed to touch you so badly, but only if you wanted him to.

“Yes, please.” You whisper, excited at the thought. You were already so close to the edge, spending the last half an hour working yourself up to a climax. The intrusion slowed down your progress, but definitely did not stop it completely. As you finger drifted over your clit, your stomach was burning with the familiar feeling, but it seemed so much more intense than before now that he was watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you could feel the pull of pleasure again, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breathing.

“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job for me.” He said, but it was strained. He wanted to be the one driving you crazy, and it was nearly torture having to watch you and not touch you. You try to hold your moans back, scared to embarrass yourself, but he thought that your state was all but shameful. He thought you were gorgeous, and he felt so lucky to be able to see you like this at all. “Let me hear those pretty noises again, sweet girl.” He pleaded, taking a step closer to the bed. “Don’t be shy with me.” At his permission, your lips parted and a soft moan filled the air. The sound alone nearly drove him to insanity. He watched you carefully, noticing as the muscles in your stomach tensed with every wave of pleasure. He wanted to remember the way you looked in that moment forever.

You were so close to an orgasm, and the desperation was evident in your movements and your voice. He needed it like the starving needed food, and he couldn’t wait much longer. He leaned down over you on the bed, letting his hand drift over your exposed thigh, the touch light but electric.

“Fuck, Jake.” You expressed your thoughts, feeling the pleasure pulsing under your skin and throughout your entire body.

“Look at me, baby.” He said, wanting you to open your eyes. You did as he said, catching the warm brown of his irises and feeling the warmth flood you. Your breath caught in your throat, and your muscles constricted. You were so close, and him looking at you in such a way made it all the more intense. “Let go,” he hummed, giving you a smile. His eyes were heavy and his chest was heaving with every breath. “Come for me, Angel.” And you did, your limbs trembling as the pleasure took hold. You’d never felt like that in your entire life, and it was so intense that it made your head spin and your chest burn. You didn’t think it was possible to feel such a way, but as you looked into Jake’s eyes, you knew it was all because of him. “That’s my girl.” He sighed, leaning down and pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh.

The feeling made you melt into his touch, his lips so delicate against your warm skin. You wanted more; suddenly, your own hand wasn’t enough. You needed him to do it for you, to feel what it was like when he touched you. You reached down, cupping his cheek in your hand as you let your thumb drift over his cheek. He hummed against you, still focused on the feeling of your thigh against his mouth. The longer he left them there, kissing a trail upwards, the sloppier he became. He sucked light marks into the delicate skin as his hand found your hip, pulling you down on the mattress towards him. He wanted you to feel admired, to know how strongly he felt for you. He wanted you to know that the situation did not have to be scary, and he only wanted to make you feel good. He was there for you, and his pleasure came second to all of your needs.

You watched him as he did all he could to showcase his admiration. You were still aching to be touched, the orgasm you had given yourself long gone and barely enough to keep you satisfied. You needed to feel him, you needed him to bring you to such pleasure, and you couldn’t believe you waited so long to feel him like this.

“Are you okay with this, baby?” He asked, looking up to you with his eyes nearly closed from the weight of lust in his stare.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “I’m… I'm okay.”

“You tell me if you need me or want me to stop, okay?” He ordered, settling on his stomach between your legs. “Even if you just want me to slow down… I need you to tell me, sweetheart. Can you do that?” You hummed a response of agreement, but he didn’t move any further. “I need to hear the words, honey.”

“I will, Jake. I promise.” He gave you a soft smile, looking over your face to search for any discomfort. When he saw only excitement, he brought his own hand between your legs. Carefully, he brought his fingers to you, gathering your arousal on his fingers before bringing them to your clit. The feeling was foreign, but as soon as his fingers landed on the sensitive bundle of nerves, the unfamiliarity quickly became obsolete. His rough, calloused fingertips moved slowly over you as his eyes stayed on your face. It was immediately pleasant, way more so than your own hands doing the work.

“How’s that, Angel?” He hummed, his eyes flickering down to his hand that was working at you. His mouth watered from the sight, but he held himself back from going any further until you were comfortable.

“S-so good.” You whined, looking down at his face. The sight of his eyes fixated on your cunt made your stomach burn with desire. All of the fear you felt before was gone; you should have known better than to think Jake would view you as anything other than gorgeous.

“You want me to keep going?” He asked, looking back up at you.

“Yes, please.” You breathed, nodding at him. He gave you a smile, adding a little more pressure to his thumb. The sensation caused you to move your hips down on his hand, searching for more. He kept the pace for a moment, before sliding his thumb in place of his middle finger. He rested his middle and index finger against your entrance, waiting to see your reaction before doing anything else.

“Is this okay?”

“G-god, yes.” You nodded, still sensitive from your first orgasm. Everything he was doing felt fantastic, and you never wanted him to stop. Before going any further, he leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from his lips to his fingers, making sure that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for you. You watched, feeling a flutter of emotion rush to your core at the sight. He gave you a small smirk, noticing the reaction. Slowly, he added one finger first, wanting you to grow comfortable with the feeling before going any further. Once he knew you were alright, he added a second.

“There you go, beautiful.” He smiled, noticing your eyebrows furrow with pleasure as a moan fell from your lips. Gently, he pumped his fingers into you a few times, spitting on his hand once again to lubricate them further. “God, you have no idea how much I thought about doing this.” He muttered, more to himself than you.

“Y-you… you think about this?” You asked, your cheeks turning red at the thought.

“Think about it?” He nearly scoffed. “Baby, I dream about it.” He corrected, curling his fingers upwards slightly as his thumb brushed over your clit. You let out a sharp breath, the feeling unfamiliar but incredibly pleasant. “I think about making you feel good, and about how pretty I knew you would look while you cum…” he trailed off, driving himself crazy at his own words. “About how good you’d taste, and how good you’d feel…” he cut himself off, realizing he might be too obscene for you at the moment. You looked down at him, almost as if you were pleading with him to keep going. The knowledge that he thought about you the same way you thought about him made your heart skip a beat. “How good you’d feel wrapped around my cock.” He finished, stronger and more confident. He could feel your walls clench around his finger at the sound of his words.

“I think about you, too, Jake.” You confessed, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back on the pillow. The pleasure was more intense than anything you’d felt before, and his words were making it all the more satisfying.

“Yeah? You think about me touching you like this?” He paused his thoughts, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Such a dirty little thing.” He teased, smiling up at your blushed face. “I love it.” He made sure that you knew that more than anything else. “How does this feel, gorgeous?”

“It feels so good, Jake.” You assure him, hoping that he won’t stop.

“Can I try something?” He asks, leaning down and pressing a few more kisses into your thighs.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You nod, unsure of what he had in mind, but trusting him more than anything.

“M’gonna use my mouth, okay?” He said, scanning your face. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, excited at the prospect.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay Angel?”

“Okay.” You nod, your eyes fixated on him as he moved closer to your heat. He moved his thumb from your clit, but you barely have time to mourn the loss before his mouth was on you and his tongue was doing the work, instead. “Oh, fuck.” You whine, reaching down and tangling your hand in his hair. The feeling was more intense, and definitely more powerful. The warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue was like heaven, and so unlike anything you’d felt before. He barely started and you could feel your walls fluttering against his fingers. You were bordering another orgasm, and you weren’t sure how much you could take before you let go.

His tongue moved carefully, but with intent. It drifted over your clit, savoring any bit of arousal still left on you. His eyes were closed as his hips moved down on the mattress, the friction barely relieving the ache of his cock, but making it a little more bearable. Your breathing was shallow, and the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair was driving him crazy. He pumped his fingers into you as his tongue worked at you, curling his fingers slightly every time he re-entered. The different types of stimulation was not overwhelming, but just enough as they worked together to push you to the edge.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whined. He hummed against you, showing you how much he was enjoying the sound. The vibration ran through you, tightening the knot in your stomach. You were so close, and your skin was tingling with pleasure. “I think… think m’gonna cum, baby.” You warned. He did not pull away, instead he made his movements more pronounced, needing it more than he needed anything more in his entire life. Your mind was flooded with desire for him, and you could only whimper his name.

He was making you feel better than you ever had before, and you were so in love with him at that moment. You couldn’t think of anyone else you’d rather be doing this with, and you felt so comfortable and loved. He adored you, and he was coaxing you so gently to a climax that it was hard to feel any fear or anxiety about it. He was so gentle and kind, his touch soft and his words sweet. He wanted you to get the most out of it, and more than anything, he wanted to make your first time special. He waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, he was doing everything in his power to make sure you enjoyed it.

The orgasm washed over you hard, making your legs shake and your eyes squeeze shut. Your fingers tightened around the stands of his hair, and you moaned his name as the pleasure took over. The obscenities falling from your lips painted the walls, burying the memory in the room until the end of time. You felt so good that you forgot how to breathe, and your head felt light. As the intensity died down and you relaxed against him, he began to taper his movements off until he came to a complete stop. As you caught your breath, he pulled back from you and looked up at your face. His eyes were heavy, and lust was hanging thick in the air. He needed you, and he did not have to say it aloud; you could feel it.

As he straightened up, his chin was glistening in the dim light, your orgasm lingering on his skin to remind you of the moment. “How was that, beautiful?” He asked, his voice husky. Your mind was still hazy as you admired his face, watching as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

“So, so good, baby.” You sighed, giving him a lazy smile.

“You want to keep going?” He asked, standing from the bed. You admired him, shirtless and standing over you. Your head was swimming with joy and your skin was ablaze with desire for him. You made it this far, and you wanted to go all the way. You were more than ready to take the step with him, especially after he was so caring and loving with you just moments before.

“Yes, please.” You whisper, giving him a smile. He returned the expression, slowly undoing his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops. His discarded it on the floor, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You felt like you were holding your breath as you waited for him to undress, feeling excitement begin to build within you. He slipped out of his jeans, kicking them to the side. Then, he looked at you, making sure you were okay before he took off his boxers. He saw the admiration in your eyes, and it made his stomach flutter with adoration.

“You want me, sweet girl?” He whispered, his jaw tense as he watched you look at him in wonder.

“Yes, please.” You nod, waiting for him to advance further. He gave you a soft smile, pulling off his boxers and throwing them to the side. When he straightened up, your breath caught in your throat. He was stunning. The discreet toned muscles in his abdomen that were so often hidden by clothes took your breath away. The soft v-line leaning down from his hips was delicious, and you could feel the arousal begin to grow once more. When he stepped closer, the light seemed to shine on him a little more. You could see all of him, and he was breathtaking.

His cock was painfully hard, the tip red and glistening with pre-cum, and it was so enticing. Seeing all of him was something so special, and you almost regretted not doing it sooner. He kneeled before you on the bed, settling between your legs as he smiled down at you. “Hi, gorgeous.” He hummed, his expression sweet and his eyes showing you nothing but love.

“Hi,” you grinned, feeling excitement overtake all of the anxiety. He reached to the other side of the bed, grabbing a pillow.

“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.” He said. You did as he told you, and he slid the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a little more comfortable.” He promised, leaning down and bracing his arm beside your head. He gave you a stupid smile that told you how enthusiastic he was. You couldn’t help but smile back, finding his joy infectious. He leaned a little further down, capturing you in a kiss. You melted into the feeling, so relieved at the comfortable and familiar feeling after so many new sensations. You closed your eyes, cupping his cheek in your hand to hold him to you. You wanted to live in the moment with him forever.

He didn’t rush you, kissing you softly for as long as you needed. It was messy, but it was beautiful. His teeth pulled your bottom lip between them, teasing you slightly. You smiled against him, finding the playfulness soothing. “I love you, Jake.” You mumble against his lips.

“I love you so much, Angel.” He whispers, looking down over your face. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the whole world, you know that right?” Your cheeks burn red, but you can’t hold back your smile. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have you.” You sigh, your chest aching with the amount of love you have for him.

“Thank you for trusting me, y/n.” His voice is full of emotion now. The lust took the back burner, second to his love and appreciation for you.

“Thank you for being someone I can trust.” He smiled at your words, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours once more.

“Are you ready? If not, I can wait.” He assured you.

“I am.” You promised. “I’m ready.” He gave you another kiss, biting back another smile. He felt giddy with you, like it was his first time again, too. The strength in which he felt for you nearly brought him to his knees. He leaned back, looking down over your body with a look on his eyes you weren’t sure he’d ever seen before. It was so full of emotion that it made your stomach twist into knots. He spit into his hand, stroking himself before lining himself up with your entrance. He looked to you for approval, and you gave a slight nod of your head.

“It might be a little uncomfortable, so just tell me if it is, okay? Just want you to feel good, baby.”

“I will.” His concern with your pleasure was driving you crazy. He guided your legs around him and waited for a moment, giving you the chance to change your mind. When you said nothing, he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

The feeling was different, but not unpleasant. It took a moment to get used to it as he fully buried himself in you. He paused before moving any further, looking to see if you were okay. You couldn’t help but notice how full you felt, how well he fit with you, and how right it felt. You caught his eye, letting out a little sigh of satisfaction. The small sound nearly pushed him over the edge as he sat, completely still inside of you. His cock twitched slightly, the knowledge that you were enjoying him sending him feral.

“You want to wait, or do you want me to keep going?”

“Keep going, please.” You breathed, wanting more. He gave you a small smile, moving his hips ever so slightly. You tended slightly, adjusting to the feeling, but as he continued, it began to grow more comfortable. Soon after, prickles of pleasure started to ignite your skin. “Oh, Jake.” You sigh, letting your head fall back on the pillow. “That feels… so good.” His jaw clenched at your words, thrilled at your enjoyment.

“Yeah? You like it, baby?” He asked, reaching down and letting his fingers dust over your bare stomach. They trailed all the way to your chest as he cupped your breast in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb toyed with your nipple, the small sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

“I do,” you breathe, nodding your head.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered to himself. “You feel so fucking good, angel. Doing so good for me.” Your walls clenched around him as he spoke, drawing him in further. He wasn’t moving very fast, but the feeling was more than enough. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, even if you didn’t realize it before. Slowly, he began to pick up the pace, unable to hold himself back any longer. “Tell me if you need me to slow down, baby.”

“I will,” you moaned, feeling the intensity begin to build in your belly again. “God, Jake. F-faster, please.” You pleaded. He let out a groan, resembling more of a growl than anything else. He grabbed your hips, pulling you down towards him a little further. His thrusts sped, and he put a little more force behind his movements. He looked down, watching how your bodies fit together, feeling a whole new sense of desire as your hips met his with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He groaned, leaning down and pulling you into a kiss. He’d waited so long to feel you like this, and he was afraid he might not be able to hold himself back.

“Fuck, Jake.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. His hands on your hips felt so good, his fingers burning into you in the most intoxicating way. You felt better than you ever did before, and you never wanted to stop feeling that way. He was so enchanting, and everything he was doing was euphoric. You felt like you were melting into him, both of you becoming one as the fire burned in your hearts.

“Need you to cum for me one more time, angel. Just one more.” He pleaded, pulling you down on him as he thrusted into you. The angle he was hitting was intoxicating, pulling you in further with every move of his hips. His lips met your again in a heated kiss, your chests heaving as the intensity continued to consume you. Your stomach was twisted in knots and your forehead was glistening with sweat. Your whole body felt like it was ablaze with pleasure, and you needed more than he could give.

He pulled back from you, his hips still keeping a steady pace as his hand reached between you, circling around your clit once again. The second sensation to hold with a fervent appetite, consuming you entirely and making it impossible to think of anything else. His fingers on you and his cock filling you up was pushing you to euphoria, and your vision began to blur. Your mind was hazy as you tried to focus on his face, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone so beautiful.

“You think you can give me one more, beautiful?” He asked, his voice shaking as he spoke. He was holding himself back to make sure you were pleased, but the idea of him being such a mess for you was driving you even closer to insanity. The most pleasurable part of the whole thing was knowing how good he felt, and how much he loved pleasing you.

“Y-yeah,” you managed a nod, looking up at him with desperate eyes. Your muscles were tightening as you tensed, preparing for the wave of pleasure about to wash over you. The burning in the pit of your stomach was familiar now, and you knew that he was the only one who knew how to get you there.

“Cum for me, baby.” He said, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with precision. Your legs locked around him began to tremble, and your breathing was ragged. You were so close, and you needed it. More than that, you needed him to cum at the same time.

“Cum with me, please.” You pleaded, admiring the look of pleasure twisting his expression. He let out a groan at your words, his eyebrows knitting together as his hair hung down over his face. You’d never seen Jake look so ethereal before, and it was driving you mad.

“That’s what you want, angel? That will make you happy?”

“Please, Jake.” You said, reaching up and clasping your fingers around his bicep.

“Anything for my girl,” he muttered, his head falling back as he let out a string of curses. He even made the obscenities sound beautiful. You watched as the columns of his neck tightened and his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, sweat dripping delicately down across his skin. Strands of hair stuck to the damp skin, framing him in a picture you wished to burn into your mind until the end of time.

The climax hit you hard, and you clenched around him, crying his name as you felt the pleasure fill you completely. He didn’t have time to nurture you through it, because at the same time, his orgasm washed over him. As you rode out the high, his hips stuttered and a breathy moan fell from his lips. He spilled his release inside of you, the feeling so addicting that it forced you into another wave of pleasure. Heavy breathing was the only sound in the room, and after the intensity began to fade, Jake leaned down and wrapped you in his arms. Without withdrawing from you, he turned on his back and pulled you on top of him. With a giggle, you landed comfortably in his arms with a smile so wide it made your cheeks ache.

You rested your head on his chest, your skin still tingling with the ghost of your orgasm. You placed a kiss to the skin, feeling his heart thud against his ribcage. His hand trailed down your back, his fingers tickling you slightly as he traced shapes into your skin. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you didn’t need to; the whole world felt perfect.

“How was that, angel?” He asked, reaching up and tucking your hair behind your ear. You grinned down at him, unable to put your thoughts into words. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great, Jake.” You assured him, leaning into the touch of his hand.

“You’re not hurt, are you? I wasn’t too rough?” His hand shot to your hip as he looked down, trying to see if he left any marks on you. He was panicking, worried that he hadn’t taken good enough care of you. The last thing he wanted was for you to be in pain.

“It was perfect, my love. It was better than I could have ever imagined.” You promised, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He relaxed against you, feeling better at the sound of your words.

“So… it was good? You… you liked it?” He said, his own nerves getting the best of him. You could feel him start to go soft inside of you, but neither of you cared to move. You laid together, smiling in bliss at the moment.

“It was phenomenal… I had a fantastic time.” You said, blushing slightly. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, beautiful.” He pulled your head down so he could place a kiss to your forehead. “It was my pleasure.”

“I do, though. Thank you for being patient, and thank you for caring enough to wait it out. And… thank you for making my first time so special. I’ve always been kind of… afraid, I guess, and you made it so easy.”

“I’m glad I could do that for you, angel. You’re my biggest priority, and I just want to make sure you’re happy and comfortable, and I want you to have a good time.”

“I had such a good time.” You smiled, laying your head on his chest again. “Do you… you think maybe we can do it again, soon?” His grip tightened on you as he let out a small chuckle.

“Sweetheart, we can do it whenever you want. All you have to do is say the word.” He promised.

“I love you so much, Jake.” You whisper, pressing another kiss to his chest with a smile on your lips.

“You have no idea how much I love you, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

[vanillarosekiss]

To the beautiful person who left me this anon ask:

hi ria! I know you normally write femreader as girly or with a more feminine energy. But wdyt of John Price whose s/o is self conscious because she’s not as girly as the ladies who undoubtedly always surround him and maybe have made her he can do better than her ((totally not projecting lolz))

i’m so sorry i accidentally deleted your ask, but luckily I managed to copy it before! I really hope this finds you angel..♡

warnings: self depreciation, afab!reader x John Price, this one’s actually kinda sad guys sorry (happy ending though, i promise!!).

John Price had always been the kind of man who carried himself with a quiet confidence, commanding respect in every room he walked into. It wasn’t just his rugged good looks or the way he carried the weight of his responsibilities with ease — it was his unwavering calm, the type of presence that made you feel like the world could crumble, but he’d hold it together for you. He’d do anything for you.

You didn’t feel like you belonged in his orbit. You didn’t even feel like you belonged in the same room.

Not when he could have his pick of anyone. And not when the effortlessly gorgeous women you saw at his work functions or in photographs seemed to orbit him naturally.

They didn’t mean to make you feel small of course, but sometimes, they didn’t need to. Backhanded comments like, “Oh, she’s not quite what I expected for John,” or those lingering glances they shared when they thought you weren’t looking, planted seeds of doubt that grew roots in your chest. It hurt you more than you liked to admit.

You weren’t as polished, as composed, as these women. It wasn’t that you didn’t try… no, you just didn’t feel like you when you did. Dresses made you feel exposed. Heels left your feet aching. Even makeup was a practice you rarely indulged in because it didn’t feel worth the time or effort considering the little time you actually spent out.

And yet, John had still chosen you.

You were sitting on the couch with your knees pulled up, thumbing through your phone absentmindedly when John walked in. His heavy boots on the hardwood floor were a sound you’d grown to love, a comfort of such.

“Alright, love?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded quickly, plastering on a smile. “Yeah, fine.”

But John was too observant for his own good. He was extremely perceptive, his time in the force had made him a great reader of expressions. He tilted his head, scanning your face as he set his keys on the counter.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his tone laced with doubt.

You looked away, shrugging. “Just tired, s’all.”

“Not buying it.” He waited intently on your reply.

You hesitated. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Darlin’.” That single word was a command. You knew he was being serious.

You sighed, your voice wavering, threatening to crack despite your attempt to sound indifferent. “Do you ever… I dunno. Do you ever wish I were more like the women you’re surrounded by?”

His brow furrowed. “What women?”

“The ones at those events,” you muttered, gesturing vaguely. “They’re all so put together, and I’m-” You laughed bitterly. “Not.”

John leaned back slightly, his hand finding your thigh and gently resting there. He regarded you for a long moment, his eyes steady. “Who’s been telling you all this?”

“No one,” you said quickly. “I just… I feel like they’re right sometimes. You could do better than me.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, but not uncomfortable. John’s grip on your thigh tightened slightly before he pulled you into his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Do you know why I chose you?” he asked quietly.

Your throat tightened painfully. “Because I was there?”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Because you’re real. Because you’re you. Because I don’t need anything like those women you were talking about, don’t want them, either.”

“But- ”

“No ‘buts’.” His tone was firm now, the kind that silenced any argument before it began. “I don’t care about anyone else. Those women you’re talkin’ about? All worthless, the lot of ‘em.”

You felt the unavoidable prick of tears in your eyes. “You really mean that?”

John turned slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You think I’d lie to you about something like that?” He kissed your lips gently, lingering there for a while.

“You’re enough for me, angel. More than enough.”

For the first time in what felt like months, you finally believed him.

I really hope this finds the right person. What a gorgeous request! Give me sweet John Price immediately. ˖⋆࿐໋

[n0vazsq]

More than enough | JMM21 x Reader

pairing . . . pepe marti x gf!reader

summary . . . You comfort Pepe and reassure him after he has a tough day

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 855

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . ITS KINDA SHORT AND SHITTY IM SO SORRY BUT IM TRYING TO FINISH ALL MY REQUESTS BEFORE MY EXAMS !!!!

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . Pepe sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clenched into tight fists, staring down at the floor. The weight of his frustration hung heavy in the air, his thoughts racing.

He had just come back from another day of training, feeling like he wasn’t improving, that his performance wasn’t good enough. The doubts had been creeping in for weeks now, but today, they seemed louder than ever.

The pressure to be perfect, to keep up with the expectations, was starting to feel like too much.

You walked into the room, a soft smile spreading across your face when you saw him, but that smile faltered when you noticed his tense posture and the furrow in his brow.

You had seen this look before. Pepe, your usually confident and happy boyfriend, now wrapped up in his own self doubt.

"Pepe," you called softly, walking over and sitting down in the spot next to him. "Hey, what’s going on? You’ve been quiet all evening."

He didn't meet your gaze right away, instead looking down at his hands, still clenched tightly. He let out a heavy sigh, his voice thick with frustration.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore, mi amor. I’ve been feeling like I’m not good enough for so long, and today just… it just felt like a sign. Maybe I should just retire early and focus on my studies, you know? I just feel like I’m letting everyone down."

Your heart broke hearing those words from him. You knew how hard he had worked to get to where he was, how much effort and dedication he poured into the game. But you also knew the pressure he put on himself, the expectations that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

"Pepe, listen to me," you said gently, placing your hand on his knee. His eyes flickered up to yours, but there was still a shadow of doubt behind them. "I know it’s tough right now. You’re struggling, and I can see how hard you're working, but… that doesn’t mean you’re not amazing. You’ve achieved so much already, and you’re still growing, still learning. No one can expect you to be perfect all the time."

He shook his head, his eyes full of frustration. "But I’m not good enough, compared to the others, compared to own teammate, Isack. I’ve lost all my skill, all my luck, and I just feel… so overwhelmed."

You reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "Pepe, carino, you are more than enough. You’ve always been enough, and your worth isn’t defined by wins or losses. You’re the best in my eyes, no matter what."

He swallowed, his throat tight. "But what if I don’t win again? What if I’m not the best anymore?"

You smiled softly, your thumb brushing across his cheek. "You may not win this time, Pepe, but you always win in my heart, carino," you whispered, your voice full of warmth and affection. "That’s what matters to me. You’re not just a racer to me. You’re so much more than that. You’re the person I love, and that’s what makes you perfect in my eyes."

Pepe’s eyes softened, and for the first time all evening, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You really think that?"

"I know that," you said firmly, your voice unwavering. "You’ve given everything to this sport, but you’ve also given me your heart. And that’s something I’ll never take for granted."

He let out a deep breath, his body relaxing slightly as he leaned into your touch. "I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. I don’t want to disappoint you."

"You’ll never disappoint me, Pepe," you reassured him. "You’re already doing the best you can, and that’s all anyone can ask for. But if you want to retire and focus on your studies, I’ll support you no matter what. I want you to do what makes you happy. And if continuing racing is what you want, then I’ll be here supporting you every step of the way."

Pepe nodded slowly, his gaze filled with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "I don’t know what the future holds, but… I’m glad I have you by my side."

"You always will," you replied softly. "And no matter what happens, I’ll always believe in you. You’re the best, Pepe. And don’t you forget that."

He leaned in then, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. "Thank you, hermosa. I needed to hear that."

You held him tight, your fingers running through his hair, wishing you could take away all his doubts, all his insecurities. But you knew that the best you could do was be there for him, to remind him of his worth and how much he meant to you.

And as you held him in that quiet moment, you knew that no matter what the future brought, as long as you were together, everything would be okay.

Because in your heart, Pepe would always be the best.

[magicalbats]

Flesh-Devouring Part 4

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 25,488

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, some mild violence/blood, a big fat serving of angst, cunnilingus, blowjobs, light bondage, nipple clamps, piv sex, creampie, spanking

A/N: The final part is here! Sorry for the long wait, but I hope the climax ends up being well worth the journey and everyone enjoys what I cooked for these two! I had a lot of fun writing this short series, maybe I'll get to do another in the future!

Header credit goes to the oh so lovely @jymwahuwu💕

⭐

You liked Sigewinne. Really, you did. But the way she looks at you is always a little strange, her gaze lingering on a spot about two centimeters from the center of your face rather than your eyes, and you’re never quite sure what to make of it. 

The first few times Wriothesley steered you down to the infirmary — for “safe keeping” while he tended to other matters, or so he’d said — you’d been so convinced that there was something on your cheek that you had quickly excused yourself from her in hot faced embarrassment, but there wasn’t ever anything there when you would check. It was certainly odd, but you’d realized soon enough that it was better just to pretend like you didn’t notice it. 

While that was certainly easier said than done she was still sweet, and you liked the Melusines. You didn’t want to make her feel bad, thinking perhaps she couldn’t help it, but especially not when you had neither the interest nor the right to judge anyone else for their little quirks or oddities, least of all over something as benign as this. 

The exceedingly strange things she would say to you from time to time were another matter entirely, though. 

“Your facial muscles really are very interesting, you know. I quite enjoy getting to observe them like this.” She tells you, perfectly polite and innocent as she hands you a small plate of cookies. Trying very hard not to squirm under those big, doe-like eyes, you hesitantly accept it with a soft word of thanks. 

You didn’t have the slightest clue what to make of that, but if she notices your uncertainty she doesn’t show it. 

“The first time we met I couldn’t help but notice that there was some tension in the way you would hold yourself. Almost like you were always on the defensive, or anticipating a fight of some kind.” Hopping up into the chair beside you, Sigewinne pulls one of those god awful milkshakes she’d once made for you closer to herself so she can cradle it between her daintily gloved hands. “But now you look really rather relaxed and even happy! I’m so glad you’re feeling more at ease now.” 

“Thank you, miss Sigewinne. That’s very kind of you to say.” It takes a great deal of effort to keep your voice steady, and an even greater effort to stay seated instead of bolting from the room in a flustered panic. Relaxed and at ease was certainly one way to put it … ever since the fundraiser ball two nights prior, you’d felt like you were floating on a soft little cloud everywhere you went and you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out why. 

It was love, wasn’t it? 

“I hope this doesn’t come out the wrong way, but I think you look so incredibly beautiful now. Almost like you’re glowing.” 

You cautiously inch your gaze up to peek over at her from the corner of your eye. Glowing? You’d always heard rumors that the Melusine’s perceive the world a bit differently than humans do and you had no idea what she was seeing in that moment when she looked at you, but it makes you flush all the same. Dammit, Wriothesley, how long was this going to take? You weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to keep your reactions in check. 

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you but you always look very fresh and dewy faced as well, miss Sigewinne. I hope you’ll share your beauty secrets with me one day?” 

She seems quite pleased to hear that, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, and you quickly bring your cup of coffee up to sip, glad for the ready distraction. 

“Oh, there’s not much to share, I’m afraid. Just a bit of cream before bed and cold water in the morning to chase away any puffiness is really all it takes. I’d ask for your secrets and tips, but I unfortunately don’t have any gentlemen friends to help me with the application.” 

You choke on your coffee with a violent lurch, very nearly dumping the whole mug all over the counter in your haste to set it down. Whipping your head around, you just gape at her in barefaced disbelief but she only smiles that perfectly innocent smile again. 

“Don’t worry, miss. Your secret is safe with me.” Sigewinne assures you, passing a handkerchief into your lax fingers. “I’m just glad you and his grace are getting along so well. He seems rather relaxed recently too, doesn’t he? Oh, that reminds me!” 

Left reeling like a stray buoy lost out at sea, helplessly carried off by the tumultuous, stormy waves, you numbly watch her dig back into the pocket of her apron for a brief moment. Idly, perhaps even a bit hysterically, you wonder what other secrets she’s got hidden away in there. 

“As it turns out, I actually have a gift for you today! I do hope you’ll like it.” 

You sincerely hope it’s not another of her desolate tasting concoctions as you turn your shell shocked attention down at the hand she sticks out toward you. Genuine surprise promptly rushes into the forefront of your mind though when you realize she’s holding a … small tube? 

“Is this lipstick?” You venture as you cautiously take the petite, gold burnished item from her. 

“Yes, it is. I think that color will look lovely on you and really compliment your complexion. His grace is quite fond of the color red, you know.” 

You nearly drop the damned thing at the startle that races up your arm. “Miss Sigewinne, please! Although I appreciate your thoughtfulness in gifting me such a thing, I really don’t think …” 

The long, upright ears atop her head give a sudden twitch that makes you trail off, and then you hear it too just half a second later. A hurried rush of footsteps coming down the hall. Heartbeat quickening, you stiffly find your feet in time to watch a young inmate come stumbling into the infirmary with wide, nervous eyes that quickly dart around to take in the room. 

“Has anyone seen his grace recently?” He stammers between out of breath gasps. “We, um, we have a bit of a situation out there.” 

Your stomach drops like a lead weight. Then, before you even realize you’ve already made the decision to do so, you’re lurching into motion. “What’s going on?”

“Oh! Uh, well, on the central platform - -“

“Wait!” Sigewinne yelps behind you, but it’s too late. Your legs are already carrying you past him, out the door and down the hall, boots smacking against the metal plated flooring. 

You didn’t even really understand it yourself, this sudden choking feeling of dread that makes your throat almost cinch shut to leave you struggling to pull in enough air long before you should have run out of stamina. All you could think about was George. Seeing the way his wrist had been engulfed by a much bigger hand when it flashes across your mind, again and again on a continuous loop. How easily it had snapped. 

The sound. 

You did not want Wriothesley to get involved if you could help it. That was the one and only thing you knew with any certainty. 

You hear the commotion as soon as you reach the end of the hall, just in the near distance. It sounded like a brawl. Leaping down the metal staircase with your heart lodged in your throat, you dash towards the noise headlong — not sure what you were going to do, if you could even do anything — but the sight you come up to pulls you short a few yards away. 

There were already guards working to pull the mess of prisoners off of one another. That was a good sign. The Clockwork Meka in the area were also making their way over, a few already subduing some of the inmates that were standing on the outskirts of the greater commotion in the center. An even better sign. 

And in all of the chaos Wriothesley’s tall, unmistakable silhouette was nowhere to be found. It was the best sign of all. 

Haltingly stiff, you force yourself to draw oxygen into your constricting lungs and take a cautious step closer. You scan the discordant scene, trying to figure out what was even happening or if there was something you could do to help when a starburst of red abruptly catches your attention amidst the shouting and flailing bodies. It’s all over the floor. A few of the prisoners in the center are stained with it. The distant, numb chill of a vertigo-inducing free fall grips you all at once. You see it when the meka separate the two men who seem to have been at the epicenter of it. The knife. 

“What are you doing here?” 

A blocky hand closes around your elbow from behind and roughly yanks you back a step. You don’t need to look to know who it is, but you still find your neck slowly craning back anyway. Wriothesley’s dark brows are pinched in what you think is probably anger, but you try to tell yourself it’s just concern. He never got angry with you. Not truly. Not like this. 

“There’s a fight.” It’s the only thing you can think to say. 

“I can see that, but that doesn’t answer my question.” He practically hisses at you. Giving your arm a tight squeeze that stops just short of pain, he leans over you to bring his face close and he drops the volume of his voice so that only you can hear. “We will discuss this later. I want you to go back to my office and wait for me there while I take care of this mess, do you understand me?” 

“I can help - -“

“No, you cannot. I’m not going to tell you again. Now do as I say. Quickly.” 

You stir slightly from your dumbfounded shock. “Do not take that tone with me, your grace. You can’t shield me from this forever! If I am to be with you then - -“ 

The sharp twist he gives your elbow startles a hurt little gasp out of you, and he uses that moment of stunned shock to get right on top of you now. “So help me if you speak one more word instead of heeding my orders, I promise you will not like how this ends. Get yourself to my office. Now!” 

You can’t help the way you cower from him, wrenching back in his hold with wide, frightened eyes that almost seem to look right through him in that moment. He lets you go, thankfully, and you stumble a step as he turns with a quick pivot of his heel. Wriothesley doesn’t even look back at you once as he purposefully strides towards the chaos, and the mess of limbs and bodies, the Clockwork Meka, and the blood, and you nearly trip over your own feet when you back up another pace. You hear Sigewinne calling out somewhere behind you, her little legs carrying her as fast as they can by the sound of it, but you can’t bring yourself to turn and look at her. Not when it felt like you were seconds away from shattering like a fragile piece of glass that had been mercilessly dashed against the wall. 

Suddenly feeling blind and numb to everything going on around you, you make a run for it. Your legs carry you without any input from your brain telling them where to go. The only thought going through your mind now is that you had to get away. Couldn’t let anyone see you break. You knew you would. It was only a matter of when, not if. 

If you could get behind the safety of closed doors where you could cry your eyes out in peace without the shame of anyone watching to hang over your head. 

If you could find the peace and quiet of seclusion in time, or if someone would spot you, stop you, and bear witness to your humiliation first. 

If you could keep it together just long enough to find a nice dark hole to crawl into so you could curl up and die alone. 

And somehow you’re not the least bit surprised that your legs obediently take you straight to Wriothesley’s office, just as he’d commanded. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You’re not sure how much time you’ve spent just sitting in the dark, pitifully weeping until there was nothing left for you to cry, when you hear Wriothesley come in through the door. You don’t look up from your spot huddled in a tight ball on the chair behind his desk but you figured you probably didn’t need to anyway. He was likely still mad at you, given the way he’d parted from you earlier, and even if he wasn’t you were still mad at him. 

Truthfully you didn’t even want to be in the same room with him right now, but you’d been too scared of what would happen if he returned to his office and found it empty to get up and leave. You’d thought about it many times over the last minutes, hours, days, months — however long you’d sat here in your misery, hating everything but most of all hating him. 

He’d never once raised his voice at you like that. 

The sound of his boots on the floor ratchets the exhausted tension thrumming through your body, but his footsteps are slow. Weary, as he makes his way over to stand next to the desk. You feel a brief spark of concern for him, wondering if he’d been hurt, but the thought quickly fades. It would serve him right, you think. 

Resounding silence seems to stretch on for an eternity in which neither of you moves or speaks. It doesn’t even sound like either one of you is breathing at all. Then, at length, he finally draws a carefully controlled inhale. 

“Why are you sitting in the dark, little miss?” 

“Do not call me that.” 

A terse pause. 

“Are we back to that again?” 

You squeeze your fists hard enough to hurt where they’re wrapped around your knees, hating the press of the lipstick Sigewinne had given you in your palm. You wouldn’t be needing it any longer. She could have it back. 

“Yes, your grace.” You rattle out, your voice hoarse and thin, but slowly gaining strength the more you talk. “I must apologize for the lack of foresight on my part, but it has just occurred to me that I seem to have made a very big mistake. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may cause you, but I think it’s time we go our separate ways.” 

“Inconvenience?” Scoffing, Wriothesley appears to stir from his own fatigue, and he moves to turn on the lamp. You wince against the sudden wash of light across your burning, aching eyes, but still you refuse to look at him when he continues on. “Don’t be silly. You know it’s much more than that. If you want me to apologize for snapping at you earlier I’ll gladly do it.” 

“I don’t want anything from you, your grace.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I do.” You insist, hissing now. “You have — you’ve been nothing but a blockheaded, rocks for brains oaf the entire time I’ve known you and I’m not sure what came over me for my common sense to falter this badly, but I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of you! It’s obvious you think so little of me that you see me as more of a pet than a person, and I’m finished with it!” 

“I think no such thing.” Wriothesley volleys right back, perfectly calm now and still standing next to the lamp, but it just makes you even angrier. Everything about him was suddenly making you so damn mad. 

This room that was so resoundingly his, the smell of him everywhere and mixed with the distantly comforting, lingering aroma of brewed tea. The weight of his presence here with you and the memories you’d shared within these walls, both the good and the bad. His voice, always so reasonable and even, except … except when it hadn’t been. You couldn’t seem to erase the way he’d sounded out on the platform from your mind. He’d scared you, hadn’t he? And that infuriated you. In fact you had half a mind to chuck the lipstick in your hand right at his stupid, smug face but you refrain for the simple fact that you didn’t want to tempt fate like that again. 

He’d trained you well, evidently, but your bitter feelings only grow at the thought. 

“I know you’re unhappy with me right now,” He finally says when you neither move nor speak. “And I can’t exactly fault you for that, but at least hear me out first before you start calling an end to everything. You know I don’t want to see you go. I would rather die than let that happen.” 

You choke on a vindictive laugh. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you yelled at me in my face like that. You had no right! Despite how you so often treat me, I am not a child for you to boss around and bully into submission!” 

“You’re wrong about that.” He says, so reasonable and sincere that it finally startles your head up. Did he seriously have the gall to - - “This is my fortress and I make the rules here. We’ve been over this before. I’m in my right to do whatever I please, whenever the mood so strikes me. You know that. Not once have I ever led you to believe any different. Not even when I’ve had you wrapped around me begging to get you off have I ever changed that narrative.”

“Do not bring that up right now!” You quake. “And you said - -“ 

“I said you had the power in our relationship because I wanted you to have it. If I’d really felt so compelled to force myself on you and take you without any concern for your feelings on the matter, I could have easily done that at any point. And as long as I did it here, in my fortress, there isn’t much you could have done about it. Even if you’d run straight to The Steambird or right into Neuvillette’s no doubt sympathetic arms, I likely would have just gotten a slap on the wrist for it and nothing more. Do not mistake my kindness for something it’s not.” 

“Kindness! Is that what you call it?” You’re suddenly on your feet, staring him down across the desk. Your entire body shakes with it, this overwhelming desire to reach out and slap him. Claw at him. Just really, really hurt him. “Well, isn’t that just a wonderful note to end this ridiculous farce on! Was this all just sport for you then? A meaningless way for you to pass your abundance of free time? I knew you had a selfish streak, your grace, but I didn’t quite realize just how deep it actually ran!”

Wriothesley frowns at that, like you’ve struck a distant nerve. “That is not what I meant and you know it. And I wouldn’t consider myself selfish for wanting to protect you.” 

“Oh, here we go again! Tell me all about how much you care for me while completely steamrolling everything I say at the same time! Go on! Let’s hear it then!” 

He takes a moment to breathe deep, his broad shoulders rising and falling in the gloom cast by the single lamp. “I think you need to calm down, little miss. You’ve got yourself worked up into such a fit right now that you’re just saying whatever you think is going to get under my skin, but it’s not going to work.” You suck in a sharp, venomous inhale, readying to spit vitriol at him, but he holds a hand up to stop you. “Just hold on and listen to me for a moment. Can you at least do that? I’m not going to say ‘or else’, nor do I have any mind for punishing you for the way you’re acting. I’m well aware you’re deeply unhappy with me right now and that’s understandable, but I’m sure we can talk this out.” 

“What is there to even talk about at this point!” 

“You nearly scared the life out of me today.” 

You jerk back as if he’d physically struck you. “… what?” 

For once — possibly even for the first time since you’d met him — Wriothesley is the one who lowers his gaze to look elsewhere. “This may not be what you want to hear, but try to think about it from my perspective. The last time I saw you, I’d left you with Sigewinne. I thought you were in the infirmary. When word got to me about the brawl that broke out on that floor I was under the impression you were somewhere safe, far away from any of the violence or danger. Imagine my surprise when I arrived and saw you standing there, not even twenty steps away from all that mess. I thought my heart was going to give right out. I wasn’t mad at you, little miss. I was scared for you.” 

The following silence almost breaks you, and you have to force yourself to start breathing again when the ache in your chest becomes too great. “Is that supposed to make it okay?” You whisper into the suddenly fragile stillness. It felt like a pin drop would irreparably shatter everything in the room. 

“No, but calling this off isn’t going to make it okay either. For what it’s worth I am sorry for yelling at you, and grabbing your arm like that. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” 

With a faint start, you reach up to gingerly touch your sore elbow where he’d twisted it. The muscles were just a bit tender, possibly bruised, but still in one piece. “I’m fine.” You lie, squeezing the petite lipstick tube with your other hand. You could feel your anger at him starting to falter and you hated that. Desperately, you try to cling to it. “I’m not sure how you expect me to rationalize this. If you care for me so much and want me to be yours, then what do you expect is going to happen? Will I just be another prisoner here in your fortress? You can’t … Wriothesley, you can’t protect me from everything that goes on here. I wanted to help you. I want to help them! Someone was — someone was hurt, weren’t they?” 

You sway on your feet with the rush of smothering dread that comes over you, suddenly feeling lightheaded enough to faint dead away. The blood, the knife, the tangle of bodies and limbs. It all flashes across your mind in a nauseating stream of images, but he’s standing there next to you in the time it takes you to blink. Carefully, he reaches out to steady you by the shoulders. 

You let him do it because … because you’re not so sure you can steady yourself anymore. 

“I was worried about this. Come on, let's get you sitting in the chair.” 

“Wriothesley - -“ You mewl, weakly pushing at him, but he won’t hear it. “You always do this to me!” 

“Just try to relax a little bit.” He tries to soothe you. “I’m not silencing you or brushing you off, sweetheart. We can still talk but you need to sit down before you hurt yourself. I’m not sure what I would even do if you busted your head open from hitting it on something in here.” 

The note of genuine concern in his voice, so soft and hushed, is what convinces you to comply, and certainly not the mental image of you bleeding out there on his floor. It was almost enough to make you regurgitate everything in your stomach right down to the bile. 

Reluctantly, you let him guide you back into the chair. He hovers over you for a moment to make sure you’re properly situated first and then, much to your gaping surprise, he sinks down on one knee to peer up at you from below. You can’t exactly hide your face like this, so you just stare at him in silent, miserable wonder. 

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, pretty girl. Will you do that for me?” You offer him a brief nod, too drained to fight it anymore. Too tired to fight with him. Too sick. “Both of those men are going to be just fine. Relatively speaking, of course. I’m sure they’ll wish otherwise once I properly get my hands on them, but neither of them sustained any life threatening injuries today. No one is going to die just because you weren’t there to do anything about it.” 

Your heart seems to freeze over with something you don’t recognize. Something you don’t want to recognize, and you start to pull back, too stunned to even respond. But he reaches up to clutch your wrists in his big hands and he holds you in place, preventing you from retreating. 

“It’s okay. Just listen.” He goes on, not giving you a chance to throw up your walls or come up with something blithe to say. “I finally understood why you act the way you do when you told us about your father the other night. You’re a lovely girl. So clever and strong willed, and terribly, terribly passionate about everything you take on in this world. Your ideas for prison reform and rehabilitation. The way you just want the best for everyone. How you put up with me. You’re the sweetest little thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing but no matter how much you might want to, you just can’t save everyone. It simply isn’t possible. Some people don’t want to be saved. Some won’t let you save them. Others are simply a lost cause. You have to understand that on some level even if you aren’t happy about it … right?”

Wriggling one of your hands free of his hold, you reach up to furiously swipe at the tears suddenly streaming down your face. “Of course I know that, you big oaf! I’m not stupid.” 

“Then tell me what you thought you were going to do back there. What was going through your head that would make you get that close to such a big fight? Huh?” 

You draw a quick breath, so sure you had the answer right on the tip of your tongue, but your words fail you at the last minute. Hesitating, you slowly close your mouth and then try again. Still, it won’t come out. Suddenly you wished for the courage of your anger back. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Softly shushing you, Wriothesley smooths his thumb over the still captured wrist in his hand with sedate, comforting circles of the calloused pad. “Take your time if you need to. I’m not going anywhere.” 

A threadbare, wet little laugh bursts out of you. “I’m afraid you might not like the answer, your grace …” 

“That’s alright. I won’t get mad.” Bending over your lap, he presses a firm kiss to the back of your hand. “I promise.” 

With a great deal of effort, you manage to suck in a faltering breath and it all comes rushing out in a sudden stream. “I was worried about you. I’m not sure why, but … I kept thinking back on what happened with George. Maybe it doesn’t even make any sense. It probably doesn’t. It’s just — I was so scared that you were going to show up to put a stop to the fighting and … hurt someone in the process.” 

Wriothesley lets that ruminate for a long beat, just idly toying with your hand while he seems to deliberate over something. At length, he finally speaks again. “Why does it bother you so much to think about me causing harm to others? You don’t really believe I’m above acts of violence, do you?” 

“It’s not exactly that …” You tell him slowly, thinking that was a very strange way to word such a question. “It’s just hard for me to make any sense of it in my mind. The strong, handsome, sometimes annoyingly affable duke who I shared a bed with and … the frightening prison warden who can hurt people without a second thought. Where does one end and the other begin, your grace? How will I know for certain what will set you off and what won’t?” 

Loosing a clipped, tired sigh, he sits back enough to pin you with an unexpectedly resigned look. “I think the two are probably a little closer to being one and the same than you even think, pretty girl.” 

Your brows slowly draw inward to accompany the vague sense of dread that washes over you. “What do you mean?” 

“Do you feel up to hearing a story? I’ve been meaning to tell you about this for some time now, but I’m afraid it’s a bit of an unpleasant topic …” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Listless and drained of the energy to do much of anything else, you roll over in your bed to stare up at the ceiling. It had been almost a week now since you’d shared this space with Wriothesley and somehow everything had changed so drastically in that time that you weren’t even sure if you were ever going to occupy it with him again. 

His parents? 

You’d never heard of anything quite so cruel and disgusting in all your life. Who in their right mind would adopt children just to turn around and sell them for profit? Disposing of those that didn’t find any buyers or the ones who learned of their deep, dark secret. Adopting more. Continuing the cycle. How many orphans had lost their lives before Wriothesley … 

At first you almost hadn’t believed him. Didn’t want to believe him. It was hard to process even now when you’d spent countless hours letting it all turn over in your head without end, just trying to make sense of everything, but a kernel of truth had still rung true in his story. Maybe it was the unfaltering way he’d spoken of it, just pure and simple factuality in his voice, or perhaps it was the way he’d looked you straight in the eye while recounting the whole sordid tale. So casually he’d laid his dirty past on your lap like some gruesome little offering. 

Well. If nothing else that at least finally explained why he was so unlike any other aristocrat you’d ever known. Why he didn’t seem to fit in. Why he was so rough around the edges and uncouth, and ill mannered, and rascally to the nth degree. 

He was … he was actually not that much different from you. 

That was almost as hard to rationalize in your mind as the fact he’d killed his parents — not without reason; even you couldn’t say he didn’t have good cause, or at least an understandable motive for doing it — but still. He’d killed not just one but two people. No wonder breaking someone’s arm had seemed like such a nonissue to him. It really wasn’t that big of a deal in comparison, relatively speaking.

“Gods, I hate this …” 

Your ceiling doesn’t respond. It doesn’t offer you any comfort or advice, or even a friendly pat on the shoulder in consolation. The flat had never felt quite so resoundingly empty and lonely before, and you’re distantly aware of children playing outside in the near distant street through the window on the opposite wall. Children. His parents. Dead. Your own father, dead. Stabbed. The knife, the blood, the limbs, the bodies, the scuffle of feet on the metal floor, the - - 

Lurching up off the bed, you manage to grab for the little garbage bin in the corner with just enough time to spare for you to retch into it. You were making yourself sick. All this thinking and stressing, and agonizing was catching up to you. 

You couldn’t stay locked up in here another moment longer. 

Quickly cleaning yourself up and getting dressed, you practically run out of your apartment just to escape the buzz in your head. It doesn’t exactly work though. Not really anyway, and you spend a very long time just walking around the city without any destination or higher thought process in mind. You weren’t even really sure where you were going when your head was such a mess of static white noise, but you do start to feel marginally better the more fresh air you breathe in and the more the sun caresses over your face. 

At least it had more comfort to provide than your impartial, uncaring ceiling. 

So caught up in your low mood, you almost walk right past him — the only thing registering vaguely in your peripheral is the Melusine shaped figure and the tall man standing with her — but then the soft little ‘oh’ that floats after you turns your head. You’re very surprised to suddenly find monsieur Neuvillette standing before you like that, as if it was a totally normal thing for him to be doing. 

“What a pleasant surprise.” He starts to smile, small and polite, and kind, but something in your face gives him pause. The pull at his brow is so slight and minuscule that it barely even registers, but you still recognize when he looks at you in concern. “Are you alright, mademoiselle? You look as if something is troubling you.” 

You start to tell him you’re fine, not to worry about it, you’re just feeling a little under the weather is all, hahaa — but then you think better of it. Something curls in the back of your mind. A memory, so close to being forgotten your fingers slip right through it the first few times you make a grab at it. What had Wriothesley said about the honorary Iudex once before … 

Then it hits you. 

Your heart twists, and you impulsively close the distance between you and him. “Monsieur Neuvillette, do … do you have a moment to speak with me?” 

He looks a little surprised at both the close proximity as much as the tinge of sorrow in your voice but, still, he gives you a gracious nod all the same. “Of course I can spare a few minutes. Although I’m not sure how much I’ll actually be able to assist you, mademoiselle, I will make every attempt to be of help. Shall we find a bench to sit and chat?” 

You jerk your head in the affirmative, already scanning the area while he says his farewells to the Melusine he’s been speaking to when you happened to pass by. This was almost suspiciously coincidental to run into him in such a way and a part of you doesn’t exactly trust it, but you were a little too desperate for answers to let any of that dissuade you. Finally spotting a street bench just down the road, you make a quick beeline for it with Neuvillette close in tow. Luckily his legs were more than long enough for him to keep up without facilitating the need to hurry. 

Anxiously, you peer over at him. “Sorry for taking up your time like this, your honor. I’ll try to make it brief. It’s about Wriothesley.” 

He sends you a slow, strange look. “I do hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, but I didn’t expect it to be about anything else. Has he done something to upset you?” 

Somehow you actually find the grace to be embarrassed about that, and your cheeks start to grow warm. “Yes. Sort of. But not really. Oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I am simply at a loss!” 

Making it to the bench not a moment too soon, you half collapse onto the seat while your unexpected companion moves to get himself situated beside you, sitting a polite distance away. For a long moment you just slouch there, having no idea where to even start while city life continues to move on without you but he’s patient in a way that feels infinite and it slowly puts you at ease. 

So you tell him everything. 

Well, most everything. You leave out the sordid details of your sexual, oft times confusing relationship, of course, but you tell him all about what happened with George, the fight you’d had afterward, the way Wriothesley made you feel grounded and safe most days but then just the thought of him hurting someone sent you straight into a panic. You finish with the brawl at the prison, telling him both sides of the story so he knew that you weren’t the only one who’d been frightened. You’d scared Wriothesley too, and you believed it. He didn’t really have any reason to lie about that. 

And although Neuvillette does look mildly uncomfortable at certain parts, he does indeed listen and he listens well. Just getting it all off your chest makes you feel worlds better, not having had anyone to talk to this entire time. But at length, after a moment of careful consideration, the Chief Justice of Fontaine finally draws a carefully tempered breath. 

“I see. That is indeed quite the harrowing tale. Not that I’m particularly surprised, mind you. It seems like romance between people most often is. I’d say that’s relatively par for the course … however, I believe what makes this situation between you and mister Wriothesley so different from the norm is that neither of you are normal people.” 

You can’t quite hide your reaction, but he’s quick to soothe you. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, mademoiselle. Please do not fret over my poor choice of words. What I meant to say is just that both of you are exceptional people who have lived very exceptional lives. There isn’t anything mundane about either of you.” 

Was he — praising you? “Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. That’s very kind of you to say, but - -“ 

“But that’s not what you wanted to hear from me, is it?” At your nod, he tips his head slightly to one side. “Do you doubt the authenticity of mister Wriothesley’s story?” 

“No. I believe him. I just can’t imagine he’d ever lie about something like that and that wouldn’t even begin to explain why? What could he possibly get out of it?” Sighing wearily, you fix your attention on your hands where they’re neatly folded in your lap. You were so tired. “I suppose I just want you to tell me … is it true? What he told me his adoptive parents were doing?” 

“I’m afraid so. There was a thorough investigation, of course, and the evidence was conclusive. I felt nothing but sympathy for mister Wriothesley when he stood before me in court, and even now I can’t imagine how he must have felt learning the truth or how he had to make his decision to react in the face of something so terrible.”

“And you still sentenced him to prison?” 

“I did.” 

A long stretch of quiet passes between the two of you, interspersed only by the darkening sky overhead that sends much of the crowd out on the street looking for cover from the sudden storm clouds overhead. Neither you nor Neuvillette were concerned about it enough to move from your bench, though. 

“Do you think,” You venture at last. “If he’d made a different decision and his parents had been the ones to stand before you in court, would you have given them the same sentence?” 

“Yes.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Worse, in fact. The number of laws they broke was substantially greater than his … two charges.”

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, turning everything over and choosing your next words carefully. “Do you think he’d kill someone again, monsieur Neuvillette?” 

So slowly it’s almost eerie, he turns to look at you there on the bench. “If the need ever arose, yes. I haven’t a doubt in my mind about that. Mister Wriothesley is a truly steadfast and resolute individual. Not once did he ask me for leniency nor did he try to excuse his actions. He was well aware that he’d committed not just one but two very serious crimes and he was fully prepared to accept whatever the punishment for that might be. But he is also a very kind and gracious person as well, mademoiselle. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that. If he was anything other than the way I’ve just described I would not have fought so hard to make him the Duke of Meropide. I didn’t go to such lengths simply out of a sense of guilt or anything as sentimental as that.” 

Blinking owlishly, you turn to find him giving you a very soft, almost secretive little smile. 

“If you want my honest opinion on the matter,” He goes on in a gentle voice. “I believe that there is a difference between someone who is a murderer and a person who has killed. Mister Wriothesley would fit into the latter category, don’t you think? I’ve seen nothing to suggest he felt any joy in killing his parents. It was a grim task that he took upon himself, and he did so to protect his siblings as well as to stop any future children from becoming victims of the same scheme. If he hadn’t acted as he did, if he’d simply allowed them to dispose of him after learning the truth, then who can really say how many more innocent lives would have been destroyed in the interim since then? Incidentally, in regards to more present matters, I have reason to suspect that this is how he views you as well.”

You sit up a little straighter. “Me?” 

“Yes, mademoiselle. I do pray you don’t misunderstand my meaning in saying this, but there is in fact a certain kind of innocence in you that I can see as well. Had I not seen it I might not have been quite so willing to introduce you to Lady Furina. She’s the same way, you know. Her heart is often in the right place, but she … ah, I suppose that isn’t really relevant right now, is it? What I mean to say is just that you are very kind and passionate when it comes to the feelings and wellbeing of others. I think mister Wriothesley wants to protect that innocence, if you’ll allow him to.”

You have to try very hard not to start blushing at that. Goodness, you hadn’t expected to have this conversation turned right back around on you like this. “T - that’s all very sweet of you to say, your honor, but … do you really think it’s feasible? If I’m going to be with him — if we were to … wed then wouldn’t it stand to reason that I would spend a great deal of my time inside the fortress? If he’s so busy trying to protect me that he won’t even let me help him when there’s a problem then is there really even any point to it? Wouldn’t I just be like a bird in a cage then?” 

Thoughtfully, Neuvilette touches fingers to his chin in consideration. “I do see where your concerns lie. While I am certainly no expert on the topic, it is my understanding that such things are usually worked out and compromised between the two participating parties with the understanding that their love for one another makes such efforts worthwhile. If this is something that you want to reach an understanding with mister Wriothesley on then I suspect you will have to work together to rectify it.” 

A pause. 

“Do you love him?” 

“Yes.” You don’t even stop to think about it. 

Suddenly realizing what you’ve just said, however, you lurch forward with a strangled gasp. The quiet sound of Neuvillette chuckling beside you draws your attention around, and you just stare at him in dumbfounded silence. 

“You are precious, I will certainly give you that.” He says, trying to hide his lingering smile. “I understand what mister Wriothesley sees in you, and I think you now have your answer. If your feelings for him seem like they’re worth the trouble of finding a compromise then you should go to him. Based on how you’ve described the situation, I don’t doubt that he’s waiting for you.” 

You sit there, frozen for a long stretch, before decisively nodding your head. “I think you’re right. It’s worth a shot at least, isn’t it?” You start to get up but think better of it, quickly sitting back down again. “Wait. I have one more question, monsieur Neuvillette. You and lady Furina …” 

Slowly, his brows lift in vague surprise. “Is that really of any importance right now?” 

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. That was rude of me, your honor.” Jumping up to your feet, you shyly turn to look at him with a nervous little smile. “Thank you for having this discussion with me. I really appreciate it. You’re a good listener.” 

He offers you a polite smile back, hands lacing together atop his bent knee. “Thank you, mademoiselle. I do try. I’ve had a great many years of practice to hone the skill. And …”

“And?” 

“Please do not give much thought to your last question. I’m sure Lady Furina will be happy to divulge the details of our relationship in short order. The general idea of it, at least.” 

You don’t miss the edge of exasperation in his voice by a long shot, and you soon find yourself grinning from ear to ear. It was funny, wasn’t it? This outwardly serious yet soft man, and the quirky, dramatic girl seeing over all matters, big or small, in Fontaine together. They made for quite the pair in your eyes. 

Was this how you and Wriothesley looked to anyone looking in from the outside? 

You’re so caught up in this fluttering thought when you take your leave of Neuvillette that you almost don’t notice that the sky has cleared back up without dropping so much as a single bead of rain. 

You’re so focused on trying to figure out what you should say to Wriothesley, how to apologize for all the mean things you’d said in your anger and how to work this out with him that you barely even register making your way through the city. 

You’re already mentally penning your letter to him when you finally make it back to your flat and bring your head up to reach for the door — only to nearly jump right out of your skin when you find Wriothesley himself standing right there on your doorstep. 

“Your grace!” You gasp in barefaced shock, making his mouth pull in a lazy, almost tentative smirk as he turns to face you there on the step. 

“In the flesh. Hope you’re not too disappointed to see me.” 

“I’m not disappointed at all.” You rush to say, and it surprises both of you given the way his brows lift and your heart skips a beat. 

“Alright, I admit that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting … what are you up to?” 

“Nothing!” You huff, in the middle of digging around in your pocket for your key. “I just thought about it some more and I think I was unfair to you. I owe you an apology, your grace.” 

This time his brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline. “I’m sorry — do you want to run that by me again? I don’t think I quite heard you correctly.” 

Floundering under that uncharacteristically wary look from him, you self consciously look elsewhere as you fumble to get the key out. Damn him for never making anything easy on you by simply reacting the way any normal man would. “Do not be like that, you scoundrel! I’m being serious here! I just … I said some very unnecessary things to you the other day, in your office. I’m truly sorry about that and I don’t actually want to call things off between us. I promise. But I think we need to have a very serious discussion about our expectations going forward. Can we do that?” 

He intently studies you for a long, drawn out moment, standing there together on your stoop. You don’t even realize you’ve been holding the key this whole time, half poised to click into the door, until he reaches out and gently takes it from you. 

“Of course we can, little miss. We can talk about it as much as you’d like.” 

You’d expected to feel relief at that but, watching him get the front door unlocked and opened, you actually start to feel sick with nerves again. You were a little too strung out from spending almost three days cooped up inside your flat and agonizing over the situation. Abruptly, you realize that you aren’t even sure when you’d last ate something was. Had you thrown up anything of substance earlier, or just bile?

Wriothesley’s hand sliding across the small of your back makes you feel marginally better though, and you let him guide you into the apartment. He locks the door behind him as he always does, evidently not wholly trusting your neighborhood, and then steers you over to the loveseat against the far wall. 

“Do you want something to drink?” 

“No. Just sit with me.” You murmur, tugging him down to join you. 

The brush of his thigh against your leg brings you a certain amount of comfort too, you’re a bit surprised to find. You’d thought for sure you wouldn’t have been able to look at him ever again without feeling fear and revulsion after learning of his past, irreparably dooming your relationship forever, but that is not what happens. Instead you feel yourself warming to him and it does wonders to soften the tense, almost awkward atmosphere between the two of you. But, still, it’s a little hard to figure out what to say when you’d been expecting to have to write him first, or make the trip out to Meropide to see him. You’d expected to have the time to plan and script out what you wanted to say, how you wanted to say it. This was so unexpectedly sudden that for a moment you just flounder. 

“Were you waiting long?” 

“No, only a few minutes. I was actually just starting to give serious consideration to the idea of kicking the door in though.” 

The soft note of humor in his voice makes you laugh even though you try very hard not to. “You are truly hopeless, your grace.” 

“Apologies for that.” He lightly, playfully nudges you with his leg. “I thought you were treating me like a boogeyman you needed to hide from, and I just couldn’t bear the thought. I was starting to get desperate. All jokes aside though, I’m glad you wanted to talk.” 

“Me too …” 

Decisively, you turn on the cushions to fully face him. 

“Let me say my peace first,” You reach across his lap to carefully take his hand, and he gladly turns the palm up to lace his fingers with yours. He doesn’t say anything though, giving you your chance to speak, so you force your lungs to expand on a shuddering breath. “I feel no ill will for you, Wriothesley. None at all. I understand why you do the things you do. It’s to protect me, isn’t it? The only way you’ve ever known how to protect anything.” 

He nods once, further bolstering your courage. 

“I appreciate it. All of it. Everything you’ve ever done for me. It means more than I could ever hope to put into words, and I’d like to someday be able to give you even a fraction of that same happiness back. But I need you to understand that — that I’m not helpless. I probably seem it from your perspective, but I’m not. I was much more rattled by what you did to him than I was about George actually grabbing me, and the other day I was so caught up worrying about what you were going to do that I didn’t even have a chance to be worried about myself. You were right that I shouldn’t have gotten that close to that fight when there was nothing at all I could have done other than get in the way but … you understand why I did it, don’t you?” 

Another nod. “I do, little miss, and I’m sorry for putting you in that kind of situation. In trying to protect you, it seems I just pushed you closer to the danger.” 

“Don’t apologize. I’m not upset with you for it. I just want us to … find a compromise.” 

Wriothesley quirks a brow at that. “Compromise? That doesn’t sound like you at all. You’re even more obstinate and stubborn than I am.”

“Do not tease me.” You warn, though it lacks any real bite. “I’m not sure how much this will mean to you right now, but I realize you’ve put up with a great deal of my nonsense this whole time so … I would like to put up with yours too. If you’ll let me. I’d like that very much.” 

The corners of his mouth slowly tug up in a soft, teasing little smirk. “Oho? And is that your way of confessing your feelings for me, pretty girl?” 

“I said don’t tease me!” 

Rumbling a soft laugh, he gives your hand a tight squeeze and lifts it to his mouth for a hard kiss pressed into the backs of your knuckles. “Don’t worry. I have no desire to tease you right this moment. But even if you can’t say it yet, that doesn’t mean I won’t.” Another kiss, one that lingers this time. “I love you, little miss. You’re very special to me even when you’re being difficult or throwing a fit over something, but especially when you get that tiny wrinkle between your brow. I find you irresistible and charming even on your worst days, and I wouldn’t trade your nonsense for the world. I love you, and that’s why I’ve tried to protect you so fiercely this whole time.”

“O - oh,” Quaking there on the couch, you shyly avert your gaze, not having expected such an — ardent proclamation from him. But Wriothesley only brings his unoccupied hand up to cup the side of your cheek, tipping your face up at him with a gentle nudge. 

“Don’t hide from me, sweetheart. I’ll tell you as many times as it takes until you’re ready to accept it.” Bending close, he presses his lips to your nose. “I love you.” Your fluttering eyelashes. “I love you.” Your cheek. “I love you beyond all reason and logical sense, but I love you just the same. Thank you for still being willing to have me.” 

“You needn’t thank me for that …” 

“I do, precious girl. I love you, so I’m going to show you my gratitude for that.” Tipping his head slightly, Wriothesley finally finds your mouth and he kisses you for a long time until it feels like you’re sinking to the bottom of a peacefully still lake. You don’t exactly know what to think of it. All of it. But you decide that you don’t really need to think about it at all when he pulls back just enough to look at you with those pale sapphires in his eyes. “It might take me some getting used to, but I promise I’ll work on giving you more freedom when you’re in Meropide. I still don’t want you wandering around by yourself unaccompanied but I think I can let you off my apron strings for a little while.” 

He chuckles at the flash of annoyance across your face, giving your cheek a soft, affectionate pinch to make you squirm. 

“If you can promise not to worry so much about what I’m going to do,” He continues warmly. “And worry more about yourself, then I can promise to keep my fists in check. That doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen where I won’t need to use them again, but I do solemnly swear to not give you any reason to think the worst of me. For better or worse, you hold my leash. Your command is mine to obey.” 

You pin him with a wry look as you untangle your fingers from his and bring your hands up to curve over the strong ridge of his jaw, tugging him in closer. “My faithful guard dog?” 

“Until my dying breath.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Wriothesley leaves, and then he comes back later that night at your invitation to have dinner together. He’d mentioned that he wanted to make sure everything was still in order at the prison first and also grab an overnight bag for himself while he was at it, and you were very glad for the chance to get yourself situated in that time. You enjoyed a very long, very relaxing bath, ate something for the first time in who knows how many days, and even found the opportunity to take a much needed nap on your loveseat. By the time he returns, you’re feeling pleasantly refreshed and eager to spend the evening with him. You hadn’t even realized just how much you’d actually missed getting to see him and talk with him until after the storm clouds had passed, and you were eager to rekindle the intimacy you were now used to sharing. 

The two of you end up in your kitchen, cooking together for the first time, and it is decidedly nice to have to shuffle around each other in the cramped little space. He’s very soft and tender with you, as if making up for the time spent apart, while he quietly murmurs that not-so-dreaded-anymore ‘L’ word at every possible opportunity he gets. His hands brush yours often, and he occasionally grabs handfuls of your hips to pull you in against him. At one point those warm, lingering embraces even morph into a slow dance around your kitchen, and he gently sways you while the roast simmers in the oven. 

You’re sure it has to be impossible for anyone to feel any happier than you do in that moment. For as frustrating and headache inducing he could be, Wriothesley really was sweet. You wished you hadn’t said all those mean things to him in his office but he was willing to forgive it, and you were likewise willing to forgive him for the way he’d yelled at you. 

It almost seemed silly in retrospect, actually, but you’d gotten a little too used to his always calm demeanor, the deliberately careful way he handled you with intent and purpose. You’d almost forgotten what he was in that time, but you vowed not to let it happen again. If you really were to hold his leash then it wouldn’t stand to reason for you to worry so much about what he was going to do or what he might do. You just needed to trust him to do what was right by you, whatever that might be. 

You sit at the table and eat together, discussing what had gone on at the prison since you’d last been there a few days ago. Wriothesley assures you everything is going well, that the two instigators from before were very much still recovering and would soon be on the receiving end of a personal visit from the duke. He also takes the time to mention that Sigewinne sent her regards, and that she hoped to see you in the infirmary again soon. Thinking back on the last conversation you’d had with her before everything blew up past the point of recognition, you soon find fluster settling over you and of course Wriothesley doesn’t miss it. 

“Should I even ask what’s got you making that face?” He teases, sitting back in his chair with a glass decanter of whiskey clutched loosely in his hand. Just smiling over at you. Content and relaxed. He looked like a king on his throne. 

You weren’t much a fan of harder spirits and had only picked up the bottle for him when it started to look like he would be spending much more time at your flat, and you somewhat anxiously twiddle the stem of your wine glass for a distraction. “It’s nothing, really. Kind of silly, if i'm being honest.” 

“I think I might be in the mood for silly.” He murmurs, sending you a meaningful look. “Out with it, pretty girl. I’m all ears.” 

Unable to stop yourself, you fix him with a vaguely suspicious frown. Sigewinne hadn’t told him about all of that nonsense … had she? “The last time I was there, right before that mess with the inmates, she gave me something. Makeup.”

“Oh? That doesn’t seem so strange for her. Nothing to make you start squirming, anyway.” 

You watch Wriothesley lift the stout glass to his mouth, and he watches you back over the rim while he sips. It was like you were playing a game of chicken or something. But surely he didn’t know what she’d said about the makeup, otherwise he would have been teasing you for it. You almost start to think he’s fishing for something, but then it hits you. 

The subtle heat in his eyes had nothing at all to do with Sigewinne or the gift she’d given you. He was feeling a different kind of hunger that could be satiated with neither food nor drink, and certainly not makeup. 

A warm tendril curls in your lower belly, prompting you to shift in your seat and you smile at him now. He’d given you this power because he wanted you to have it. Had said so himself. It seemed like it would have been a waste to squander it, and you quickly decide you can play this game with him a little longer. 

“She gave me lipstick, your grace.” 

Lowering his glass, he tips his head to one side in thought. Obviously interested. Clearly curious. The scoundrel. 

“I see. That was very nice of her, wasn’t it? She very much enjoys giving gifts to those she likes, so I’m sure that won’t be the last one you receive.” One of his dark brows lifts as if to say ‘your turn, little miss” and you start to wonder how long you’ll be able to last when he looked so terribly ravishing like that. 

“Yes, I was very flattered. The last time she said she had something for me it was one of those awful milkshakes you warned me about, so it was a relief not to receive another. It’s a very pretty shade of lipstick but she did say some interesting things when she gave it to me, though.” 

“Hm? Like what?” 

Inching to the edge of your chair, you lean towards him slightly. “Miss Sigewinne informed me that you’re rather fond of the color red, your grace, and that was why she gave it to me. So that I might wear it for you.” 

The not so subtle look that flashes behind his eyes makes your pulse quicken. He really was bestial at times, most notably where you were concerned it seemed. To think that you could so easily rile him like this … 

“She gave you red lipstick?” He drawls. “That’s dangerous.” 

You blink at that. “Dangerous, your grace?” 

Inclining his chin in a pointed nod, Wriothesley stretches to set his near empty glass on the table. “Very. Because now I want to make a mess of it with my cock.” 

It feels like you’ve been struck by a bolt of lightning, and your back snaps straight with a powerful shudder. “That does sound dangerous …” You murmur, suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter than before, and he faintly hums as if in solemn agreement. Licking your lips, you decide to take the plunge. “The last time you were here when we … slept together, you said you had something in mind to help me. What was it?” 

“Are you interested in hearing all the sordid details, pretty girl?” 

“No,” You subtly shift at the thought. “I mean, I do. Yes. But mostly I’m just curious, is all. 

He takes a moment to consider you from across the table, and you just start to wonder if perhaps it was too soon after your biggest fight with the duke yet to expect that kind of intimacy when he draws a deliberate breath. “I brought everything I think I’ll need, if you’d like a demonstration.” 

Somehow your surprise manages to overshadow the pang of wanting you feel low in your gut. “You came prepared?” 

“Yes, but not in the way I can tell you’re thinking.” He chuckles quietly. “The day after the fundraiser and I returned to the fortress I made my preparations then. Everything was already packed and ready. I just needed to grab it. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to bring it along just in case. Actually, if you want the truth,” 

You sit up a little straighter at the shift in his tone, knowing he was about to say something important. 

“I thought perhaps I could leave this particular bag here so we would always have these items on hand whenever you were ready for them. Since it looked like we were making progress in the right direction, I was under the impression that we would be spending more nights together like that. And of course it has some toiletries and such for myself as well.” 

“I see,” Dropping his steady gaze, you reach up to fiddle with your fork. “I really am sorry, your grace. For blowing up on you like I did. I didn’t mean to ruin everything.” 

“Nonsense. You didn’t ruin anything, little miss. It was just a small hiccup, that’s all. As the saying goes, there’s no use in crying over spilt milk, is there?” Pausing, he studies you for another moment and when he next speaks it's in a softer, rumbling drawl full of suggestion and promise. “The decision is ultimately yours, as it always is, but if you want to give it a go I would be too happy to oblige you.” 

You could feel your cheeks starting to grow warm. “It’s not too soon? Or too sudden?” 

“I don’t believe it is. Just because we had an argument and you didn’t want to see me for a few days, that doesn’t mean I stopped wanting you in that time.” 

Well, when he put it like that … 

“May I ask what sort of — items they are?” 

“Hm. You’re free to ask, but I don’t think I’m going to tell you.” 

Finally bringing your attention back up, you look over at him with no shortage of suspicion. Wriothesley only smiles at you though, his mood amicable and even playful, but you don’t miss the growing heat in his eyes. Not by a country mile. 

“Do you remember that little lesson I gave you with my belt not long ago?” He laughs under his breath when you visibly shudder in your seat at the reminder. “Ooh, I thought you would. Don’t fret though, I have no plans of doing that again. Not tonight, at any rate. I just think the lesson is applicable here as well. When you can’t see what’s coming you’re much more … shall we say, persuadable? If I’d told you flat out I was going to spank your cute little bottom with my belt what do you think you would have done?” 

You turn that over for a brief moment, and you’re not particularly happy with the answer you come up with. “I would have flown off into hysterics …” 

“Good. Every time we play this game you gain a little more self awareness, precious girl. I hope you know how pleased I am with the progress you’ve made in terms of being honest with yourself as much as with others, but most importantly with me.” 

It’s difficult not to be at least a bit pleased to hear that, and you find yourself quickly regaining some of your confidence. “So your plan is simply to trick me into it?” 

“Something like that,” He relents with another low laugh. 

For better or worse you don’t even really need to think about it any further than that. Looking at him over the table, you know you not only want him in that moment but you also trusted him perhaps more than you’d ever thought it was possible to put your blind faith in another person. Even after he’d grabbed you in the heat of his bubbling emotions and raised his voice at you, you’d still wanted him this entire time. Not the fight afterward or even learning of his past had been enough to snuff out what you felt for him. Although it had taken speaking with monsieur Neuvillette for you to truly grasp the full extent of what you held for Wriothesley in your heart, it seemed so obvious to you now. 

As clear as any picture taken with the latest kamera model and as pleasing to the eye as a master painter's magnum opus, you could plainly see where this was headed. Not just tonight, but your future as a whole. It was resoundingly, unequivocally with Wriothesley, and you couldn’t so much as fathom the idea of giving any single part of yourself to anyone else the same way. He really was it, wasn’t he? The penultimate result of everything that had lead up to this point. 

“I think I’d like to give it a shot, your grace.” 

He doesn’t seem surprised, but he doesn’t gloat about it either. Just keeps looking at you with that same unwavering certainty that had slowly picked away at your defenses over time. “Are you sure? Even if you tell me ‘yes’ now, you can still change your mind later.” 

You nod. “I understand that, and I’m sure.” 

Regarding you for another moment longer, Wriothesley eventually draws a slow inhale that makes his broad shoulders rise. The air seems to shift, becoming anticipatory and static charged as he sedately nudges his chair back and rises to his feet. You watch him come around the table with an eager flutter in your chest, smiling up at him when he comes to stand over your chair. 

His hand lifts to tenderly cup the side of your face, and he simply looks at you for a long stretch. Like he was committing the sight of you before him to memory. Then, without a word, he bends at the waist to bring his face close to yours and you happily tip your mouth up to accept the kiss he places there. His lips move with yours in a slow, intoxicating dance that is so soft around the edges yet backed by hard steel and thrumming hunger that it soon robs you of the ability to breathe. It doesn’t take long to have you panting slightly, and when his hand eventually slides down to join the other in unbuttoning your blouse you start to feel a bit lightheaded. 

Swaying in your seat, you turn your head to break away from his searing kiss and suck in a lungful of fresh air while he nuzzles against you with a soft murmur of praise. When he tells you how much he’s missed you over the last few days, you tremble and whisper back that you missed him too. 

Kissing the side of your neck now, Wriothesley gets your shirt undone down to the waistband of your skirt and gently parts the fabric to expose the bra underneath. He seems largely content to leave you clothed for the time being though, and simply slips one of those big, coarse hands inside to fondle your chest. Coming alive for him, you push your breasts out to further offer them to the possessive squeeze of those blocky fingers as your own come up to clutch at his forearm. Musculature and sinew flex under your fingertips while he kneads the swell of flesh through your brassier, and you can’t help but whine when he pulls back some moments later. 

“So impatient, pretty girl.” He softly chides you as he sinks down to the floor where he greedily palms the meat of your thighs, spreading them wide so he can situate himself between them. You can’t quite find the presence of mind to be embarrassed about it though, and you lift your hand to card it through his dark hair. 

Tipping his head into the gesture for a brief, savory moment, Wriothesley then bends close to press his mouth to the center of your chest. A barely audible sigh escapes you as he takes his time kissing over the swell of your breasts and teasing the stiff nipples underneath the satiny soft cups before trailing lower. Realizing all at once what he was building up to, you close your fingers around the roots of his hair and give it a fitful little tug. 

“Y - your grace …” 

“I’ve been thinking about getting to do this again almost nonstop,” He confides in you, broad hands squeezing tight around your waist before dragging lower to inch your skirt up. “I’m not sure you even know how good it felt to finally put my mouth on you after all this time … it was hard not to give into the urge when I had this sweet pussy spread out on my lap or just inches away from my nose, especially when I knew you’d like it if you’d just give it a chance.” 

“You do seem to have a good sense for what I’ll like,” Reaching down with your unoccupied hand to grip the side of the chair when his fingers start to creep upward, you angle your hips in invitation for him tug your panties down. His gaze remains locked on yours, head tipped back to watch your reaction, and you’re sure he must be getting a good show. You were still a little embarrassed at having him do this, putting his mouth on such a place, but oh, how badly you wanted it. 

Sliding your underwear down and off, he tosses them aside without another thought before going up on his knees so he can shuffle somehow even closer. You’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t go straight for what’s between your legs, but the thought quickly drifts away when he cups your face in both hands and kisses you again. You cling to him while he leisurely claims your mouth, fisting the back of his black button up in a death grip when he eventually reaches down to pull at your bra. Tits soon spilling out over the top, you shudder and whine at the sensation of your nipples freely straining into the still air. He’s quick to oblige you, and a fresh tremor works through you when blunt thumbs carefully brush over the stiffened peaks. 

“Oh,” You gasp, pulling from his mouth to sway dizzily in your seat. The sharp pangs of pleasure that race through your nerve endings at just that brief contact has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together but you can’t do that with him kneeling between them. 

“You like that, pretty girl? Huh?” Following you, Wriothesley presses another kiss to the corner of your lips. “I’m glad you do, if I’m being honest. These feel so good in my hands.” Another kiss, one that lingers this time. “I think I could play with them all day, if you’d let me.” 

Moaning when he plucks at them, almost casually pinching and pulling with his fingers, you tip your face down to watch. The swell of your breasts seems much more pronounced where the rucked under bra is pushing them up slightly, and in the center of them your nipples look so tightly coiled it draws another low sound of wanting out of you. You tremble almost violently when, noticing where your attention is, Wriothesley adjusts his hands to gently flick over them. Up and down, up and down, and then side to side. The tips of your breasts positively ache with the sensation, and you soon find yourself squirming in your seat again. 

“I … I want your mouth on me, sir. Please.” 

“Ooh, good girl. You know how much I like it when you ask me for things.” Pausing just long enough to give your nipples one last, taunting tug that has you keening, he lowers his hands to knead your thighs instead. “Would you prefer to take it to the bedroom, or will you permit me to do it here?” 

You steal a surreptitious glance at the table, the mostly empty plates, the nearly drained glasses. It didn’t even matter. “Here is fine, your grace.” 

Rumbling a low sound of approval, he inches the hem of your skirt up a bit more until you feel the waft of cool air against your bare, thoroughly sticky cunt. “I still have every intention of making you sit on my face … but we can save it for later. There’s no rush, after all.” 

Whimpering softly as you watch him lean back and then curl those burly arms under your knees, reaching up to grasp your hips, you let him tug you to the very edge of the seat to leave your ass half hanging off. His hold on you is good though, and you don’t even give it a second thought while you run even hotter for him at the sight of your own pussy spread open like this. 

“W - were you going to make me do it if I’d chosen the bedroom?” 

The smirk that cuts across his roguish mouth assures you just how right you actually were. 

“Such a clever girl you are. I knew you’d start to figure out how this works.” Bending his face close, he places a firm kiss to the apex of your mound. “I hope you had a chance to get some rest earlier, by the way. I don’t think I’m going to be done with you until the morning sun comes up.” 

You suck in a slow, hissing breath, and plaintively tip your cunt up at him. Sending you a slow look from under the fall of his dark lashes, he gives you another kiss and drags his mouth a pinch lower. The next kiss is pressed right over your slit, making your clit tingle at the distant, featherlight sensation as Wriothesley nudges your thighs more securely over his shoulders, opening his mouth wide to kiss at you a little more deeply. The soft, wet warmth inspires a stiff shudder that makes your legs twitch in the air, a breathy moan slipping out of you a heartbeat later when he works your lips open enough to drag his tongue over petal-smooth creases and folds. You already felt sick with the thrumming tension low in your gut and he’d barely gotten started yet … 

Taking his time with it, just savoring the moment, he graces your clit with teasing kitten licks that just further ratchet up your need for something more substantial. It doesn’t last long though, each pass of his tongue steadily becoming firmer, more purposeful, until you practically jolt right off the chair when he finally drags the flat of it right over the sensitive pleasure button. Squeaking at the powerful tremor, you reach down to grab at his hair again and squeeze your thighs around his head. It’s too late for you to dissuade him though, his face already buried so deep in your cunt that you couldn’t have closed him out even if you’d wanted to. Arching against him, you let your eyes slip shut and just focus on the sensation. 

His mouth felt good sinking into the soft give of your cunt, so strong and unyielding, yet fleshy and pliant at the same time. The way he breathes in deep without pulling back sends a fresh rush to your quaking guts, as does the hot groan he puffs out against your slit a moment later. The tip of his tongue is soft and probing, while the broad flat of it is a little rough, and he seems to take a great deal of joy in torturing you with it centered directly over your clit. Everything is so warm and wet, and overwhelmingly mind numbing that you quickly lose yourself in it. 

Even when he nudges further down to swirl around your entrance and lap up the accumulated slick there, you soon realize you’re just as weak for this as you were with the more direct contact. Thinking back on what he’d said while instructing you how to pleasure him, it made sense. The whole area was sensitive — and you outright gasp as he presses his tongue inside you, just breaching your body. 

“Oh!” The sound punches out of you in surprise, thrumming muscles clamping down on the intrusion but it’s too soft and slippery to brace against. He just wriggles it around inside you, teasing the suggestion of true penetration, and you suddenly feel faint. 

Was this how his cock would feel inside you? 

“Aahhnn … oh, gods! That’s - -“

Growling faintly into your pussy, Wriothesley pulls his tongue back and then pushes it back in, slowly fucking into your hole like he had all the time in the world to do this at his own leisure. Maybe he did. He probably would have been happy to make the time if he didn’t, but it doesn’t take long for your squeezing cunt to start tingling with warning tremors. You couldn’t take it. 

“Please!” You whine, giving his hair a weak little tug. “Your mouth — oooh!” 

Heaving a deeply masculine sound, he drags his tongue out of you and then back up to your throbbing clit. He gives it a wet, smacking kiss that makes your toes curl, and then seals his lips around it to briefly suckle at you. Delirious and sweaty, you twist there in the chair and he responds with a muted shake of his head. Just like that last time that jostle against all the nerve endings catches you off guard and you start to tip as he directs his tongue to the epicenter of your body once again. 

“Oh! Oh, oh, Wri — aahhn! Wriothesley!” Somehow you manage to find purchase along his back and, digging your heel into his firm shoulder, you somewhat inelegantly jut your cunt up into his mouth. You chase that vibrating pinprick with a faltering moan, struggling just to get enough air in your lungs, and he lets out a stifling hot moan while you ride his face. 

Your distressed moaning quickly takes on a dire tinge like this, and your hips grind to a shuddering halt when you feel the pressure start to collapse in on itself. Helpfully, he uses his big hands where they’re still clutching your hips to nudge you up against him again, and again, and again, forcing you to keep humping his mouth even when your legs shake too hard for you to do it yourself. Release slams into you like a sack of bricks, so suddenly and so powerful it was like it had snuck up on you. You can’t help the shriek of delight you let out as you mindlessly writhe in the chair, gripping his hair so hard your knuckles scream in protest, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Same as last time, he continues to eat you out well past the point of comfort and he only stops once your shudders turn into sensitive twitching and you keen like some hurt little thing. Only then does he finally pull away, but not without one last kiss pressed into your cunt, and then he sits back to peer up at you. The noticeable glisten of moisture coating the lower half of his face nearly sends you into another fit of convulsions. 

“Oh, Wriothesley - -“

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? I’m right here.” Leaning into you and nearly folding you in half in the process when your knees were still hooked over his shoulders, he claims your mouth in another slow, possessive kiss. You moan very softly at the taste of yourself but still gladly accept his tongue when it slips out over your lips to coat your tastebuds in it. That you don’t even have the wherewithal to be ashamed for it anymore gives you a helium sense of liberation as you clutch him against you, kissing him back fervently. 

But of course he eventually pulls away, and you can’t help but sigh into the warm haze surrounding the two of you. For a long moment you just look at one another, and then his mouth pulls into one of those secretive little smiles he was always so fond of giving you. 

“Ready for the next round, pretty girl?” 

Unable to stop it, you smile too. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” Loosing a terse, anticipatory sigh, Wriothesley leans back to untangle himself from you. His arms immediately twine around your waist though, and you let out a soft squeak when he hauls you right up against him as he stands. 

Grabbing hold of his shoulders to steady yourself, you look down at him with widened eyes. You weren’t used to being quite so high off the ground, but he’s strong and sure underneath you, and he doesn’t seem to falter even a moment as he turns to make his way to the bedroom. 

“I think you’re really going to like what I have in store for you tonight. Are you going to be a brave girl for me?” 

“Don’t tease me …” 

He chuckles, nudging the door open and then kicking it shut behind him again. “Teasing you is all I’m going to be doing here in a minute.” 

You aren’t entirely sure what to make of that, but he doesn’t give you a chance to overthink it. Depositing you onto the bed with a muted bounce, he turns to retrieve his bag from the corner. A nervous flutter comes to life in your gut and you start to reach up to close your shirt, or at least fix your bra, but decide better of it. You had a feeling you would soon be losing all your clothes anyway, so you just watch him come back to the bed where he sets the plain luggage on the corner of the mattress. 

Sending you a slow, knowing smirk when he sees your tits still out, Wriothesley opens the latch and digs around for a moment. You find yourself squirming in place, wondering what it is he’s going to pull out, but all you feel is a mild sense of surprise when he withdraws a silky strip of red fabric. It looked like it could have perhaps been a tie in another life. 

“That’s it?” You blurt, confusion coloring your voice. 

“There’s more. Just be patient for once.” Mirth dancing in the blue of his eyes, he sets the item down on top of the bag for a moment before reaching for you. His hands slide into place against your cheeks, and you breathe out a content sigh as he tips your face up at him. “My sweet girl … has anyone ever told you how positively insatiable you are?” 

“Only for you.” 

“Good answer.” Humming faintly, he drags his hands over your neck and then lower still to tug your shirt out of the waistband. “Alright, let’s get you undressed then. As much as I love to simply look at you, we don’t want the night to get away from us do we?” 

“Will you take off your clothes as well?” You ask, shrugging out of your top while he sets his sights on the latch of your skirt. 

“Eventually, yes. Remember what I just said about being patient?” 

Huffing, you lift your hips so he can relieve you of the last of your clothes, everything save the thigh highs you had on. You’re a little surprised when he leaves them and reaches for the length of silk, but somehow having just your legs still covered almost seems to highlight the rest of your nudity. It felt … stark, somehow, and you shiver when your nipples tightly picker in response. 

“Hold your hands up for me?” He prompts, bringing your attention back around. Blinking owlishly, you do just that and your heart stutters a beat when he starts to twine the strip of fabric around your wrists with sure, practiced motions. 

“S - sir?” 

“Don’t worry, we’re going to take this one step at a time. I have a sneaking suspicion you’re going to very much enjoy being restrained by the time we’re through but if you truly think you can’t handle it, just say the word. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen though.” 

You swallow. Hard. “What are you going to do?” 

“That is for me to know, and for you to find out.” Putting the finishing touches on the knot, Wriothesley slips a finger under the bindings to test the give. It doesn’t budge. “How does that feel, little miss?” 

“… secure.” 

He gives a small laugh. “Excellent. Now, where is that lipstick Sigewinne gave you?” 

Your head comes up in surprise, but then you remember what he’d said at the table. The powerful tremor that tears through you very nearly robs you of the ability to breathe. He was going to … he really planned to - -

“It’s on the desk.” 

Reaching up, he gives your cheek a brief pinch before turning to shuffle across the room and you just sit there in vibrating anticipation, trying to process where this was going. It was quite clear, of course, and you weren’t in suspense so much as you were … looking forward to it.  

You had rather liked putting your mouth all over him. 

His hand is suddenly under your chin, turning your face up to look at him. You give a faint startle, having been so lost in your whirlwind thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed him coming back, but he just smiles down at you. 

“Not getting distracted, are we?” 

“… n - no, sir.” 

He doesn’t look like he quite believes that, but he doesn’t press you any further. Drawing a patient breath, he retracts his hand in favor of uncapping the petite tube in the other and then bends close. “I’m no expert in such delicate matters but I promise I’ll give it my best effort. May I?” 

He wanted to put it on you himself? 

Slowly, you nod. “Yes, sir.” 

“Thank you, little miss.” Tone dropping in concentration, he fixes his attention on your lips and brings the applicator up. “You are much too kind to me.” 

You almost find yourself smiling but you quickly school your features. The last thing you wanted was to make him draw a hard red line across your face or, possibly worse, break the delicately formed lipstick column, and yet … despite what he’d said to the contrary, Wriothesley’s hand remains unexpectedly steady throughout the process. He’s very careful about the whole thing, not nearly as quick as you likely would have been, but you can tell he’s doing a good job staying within the outline of your lips. You never would have expected it to feel so nice having your lover apply makeup to your face like that and, although you likely wouldn’t have let him do it if you were going out into public, like this … like this it was oddly satisfying. Intimate, almost. 

“Well,” He finally says, straightening up to admire his handiwork. “It’s not perfect but I’d say I didn’t do too bad.” 

“I have nothing but the utmost faith in you, your grace.” Giggling when he decisively puts the cap back on and tosses it to land somewhere on the bed, you give him a bashful smile. “How do I look? Is it my color?” 

The flash of heat behind his eyes tells you your answer long before he draws a stilted breath that makes his shoulders lift. “It’s the perfect color for you. If I didn’t want to see it smeared all over my cock right now, I’d be kissing it right off you.” 

“Oh,” 

Letting out a strained chuckle, Wriothesley reaches for the front of his pants next. “Ready to tend to me, pretty girl?” 

Your arousal comes rushing right back into the forefront of your mind, and you jerk your head in a quick nod. “Yes, sir.” 

Buckle rattling, he pauses long enough to slide the length of leather out of the belt loops so he can toss it aside before setting upon the hidden latches and buttons. You start to bring your hands up to help him only to promptly remember that they were bound together at the wrist, and you can’t stop from pouting about it a little bit. The greater point of this exercise was clear. You wouldn’t be able to freely touch him like this, and he was probably counting on that to make you all the more desperate to do just that until you were just begging for it. 

You weren’t so sure that it wasn’t going to work. 

The thought dissipates like sugar in warm water, however, when he shoves his pants and underwear down to his thighs. Just as it had that night in your bathroom, his cock springs up between the two of you proud and straining hard. It gives a heavy bob when he shuffles closer so he can lift a hand to possessively palm the top of your head. That alone is enough to make your pussy flutter in eager excitement, but then you watch him grab around the base with the other and point it straight at you. 

“Open your mouth nice and big for me, pretty girl. There you go … gods, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about having your lips wrapped around me again” 

He grunts, very softly, as you eagerly sink down on him as far as you can comfortably take it. But rather than letting you stop there, Wriothesley gently nudges your head further and gives his hips a halfhearted push. 

“A little more, baby, come on. You’re so close to taking the whole thing for me. I want to see that pretty mouth stretched around the base … take it right to the back of your throat. I’ve got you, pretty girl.” 

Whimpering around the thick intrusion, you make a valiant effort to blink away the tears that spring up in your eyes when you reflexively gag. You try to suppress it though, and sink down even more until you feel the distant tickle of coarse hair on your nose. 

“Ooh, gods. That’s it. Now seal your mouth around it, nice and tight … nnghn, yes, how’s that cock taste, sweetheart? You like that?” 

You nod your head even as your eyes screw shut, fighting against your own body to stop it from heaving up your whole dinner. But he’s quick to pull back, the hand on your head holding you steady when you sway on the edge of the mattress and suck in a haggard gasp of air. 

“Good girl,” He breathes out, sounding mildly ruffled now as he manually directs your attention down at the heavy length bobbing between the two of you. “Such a good girl for me. Look at how much of me you just had stuffed in your mouth.” 

Groaning at the faint red band around him, you feel yourself slip a little further under the swimming daze blanketing your mind. You bring your hands up, in tandem now, and carefully cup them around the satiny weight of his balls, earning a low rumble of approval out of him. You almost hadn’t thought you’d be able to do it, but the proof of it was staring right back at you. It’s nearly as satisfying as the softly heated praise he showers you with. 

“I want you to take a good, long look at this, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmurs, wrapping his forefinger and thumb around the thickest part of him to cover the lipstick stain. “This is how much of me your cute pussy is going to take too. It’s going to stretch you out just the same way it just did to your mouth. Can you imagine it, how it’s going to feel?” 

You nod your head before you’ve even fully processed the question, shuddering so hard it makes your eyes vibrate in their sockets. 

“Good. Then I want you to keep thinking about it while I fuck your mouth instead.” 

A startled little sound of confusion bursts out of you, but he presses on the back of your head before you can form a coherent thought and you noise a muffled groan when his cock fills your mouth again. Holding you in place rather than guiding your head up and down, he instead flexes his hips to drive that rigid length back and forth over your tongue. His thrusts remain careful and controlled, sedate enough to give you a chance to breathe, but that does absolutely nothing to detract from the sympathetic flutter you feel deep inside your cunt. 

It’s almost horrifyingly easy to imagine it, in fact. The same sensation of all that smooth, velvety skin working in and out of your body, how seamless the glide would be, how warm he would feel lodged deep within your guts. You almost couldn’t believe how hot it actually makes you to think about it, like you were liable to combust and catch fire at any moment. If you’d had the ability to, you probably would have been begging him to take you right then and there. 

“I wish you could see how utterly ravishable you look right now, little miss. That lipstick really does make you look absolutely irresistible … and it looks even better smeared all over my cock. I almost want to cum all over your lips and paint them white.” 

At your groaning, half choked sound of question, he issues another low laugh. 

“That’s right, I’m going to hold out for that sweet pussy. This is just the warm up … but oh, what a warm up it is. I think you’re enjoying it too, aren’t you?” 

You screw your eyes shut and weakly push at his thigh with your bound hands, but he just readjusts his hold to better keep you in place. His palm was so big it almost seemed to dwarf your entire head, and you violently shudder at how small he made you feel. Everything from his hands down to his cock was just so large … 

Would your cunt really be able to take the whole thing? 

Gasping raggedly when Wriothesley finally pulls you off him some moments later, you rock back to cough and sputter. Undeniably grateful for the reprieve, you blearily look at the bobbing length between you only to mewl softly at the glistening thread of spittle still connecting him to your raw mouth. Your chin was coated in it too, but he just brings his hand down to swipe it away without another thought to the matter. 

“Feeling good so far, little miss?” 

At your breathless nod, he tenderly cups the side of your face for a moment before giving it a light pat. “Good girl. Let’s move on to the next part then, shall we?” 

Still wheezing and trying to catch your breath, you watch him reach over into the bag and pull out — another red strip of fabric? You didn’t understand. Was he going to tie your ankles next, or - - 

He shuffles right up to you then and you suddenly forget how to breathe with that spit coated cock straining out towards your chest, so close you could have easily taken it back into your mouth again. Before you can even think to do it though, he brings that second piece of cloth close to fix your attention on it instead. 

“I’m going to cover your eyes with this, if you’ll allow me to. You won’t be able to see or use your hands much, but you’ll still be able to talk. I’m not going to gag you or anything like that, pretty girl, so you can still change your mind later. Does that sound agreeable?” 

You hesitate just a moment, ever so slightly unnerved at the thought of having your sight taken away, but you trusted him. Implicitly. “Yes, sir.” 

“Such a good girl,” He murmurs, and that vaguely secretive smile is the last thing you see before he slips the strip over your eyes and reaches around to tie it off at the back of your head.

Your heart rate immediately picks up with a muted jolt, but you don’t feel any true panic. Just a bit of nerves. Some excitement mixed in with it. You were undeniably curious to find out what, exactly, he had planned for you, and the promise of his cock at the end certainly helped further sweeten the deal. 

“There. Don’t you look pretty.” You feel him bend close and press a kiss to the top of your head. “Lipstick smeared and blindfolded … almost makes me wish I had a kamera on hand.” 

Your chest hitches. “Your grace - -“ 

“Shh. I was only joking.” He soothes you, caressing broad knuckles down the side of your face. 

You aren’t so sure you appreciate the humorous tone in his voice, but you promptly forget all about it when he gently guides you back to lay out on the bed. Holding your bound hands over your stomach, you somewhat awkwardly brace for him to climb on top of you, to claim you, thinking that was his intention in keeping you unawares. Rather than that though, you feel the mattress beside you dip down slightly with his weight. Then, out of the blue, calloused fingers squeeze around the meat of your breast to make you jolt. 

“So jumpy,” Laughing under his breath, Wriothesley takes a moment to just knead the swell of your chest and give you a chance to relax into it before proceeding any further. “Do you recall what I told you the night before the fundraiser, little miss?” 

You frown slightly, too caught up in the way his fingertips sink into your skin to have much higher thought process left at your disposal. “I’m not sure … it feels like so much has happened since then. I don’t think I do.” 

“All the better then.” 

Opening your mouth, you start to question it, but all that comes out is a surprised squeak when he directs his fingers to your nipple. The delicate bud had started to grow soft in the warm fog surrounding you, but now it springs back up while he pinches and tweaks it, stiltedly plucking the dense cluster of nerves back to straining attention. You think, idly, that you should probably close your mouth instead of letting it hang open in such a brazen and unladylike manner but you can’t quite seem to accomplish that right now. Especially not when he switches to the other breast, taking your second nipple between his blocky thumb and forefinger, and you promptly loose another faltering sound of pleasure. 

Back and forth, just like that, he teases and plays with your tits until you’re squirming on top of the sheets and squeezing your thighs together in a blithe attempt to alleviate some of the building pressure there. He’s entirely relentless about it though, even when you weekly lift your hands as if to block or otherwise push him away he just reaches around to attack the other side. It felt a bit like being bullied … no, that was exactly what it felt like and you were ashamed to say it was driving you crazy! Never before had your teats felt so very stiff and sensitized, his rough fingertips providing the perfect amount of friction to leave your toes tightly curled. 

It was almost too much, in a way … but it also doesn’t escape your notice that you were technically free to pull away from him at any point. With him sitting beside you, you could have rolled over in the opposite direction to escape the torture of his hand but you don’t. The thought never even seriously crosses your mind. 

He’d been right to suspect you would like this. 

“You’re awfully cute, you know that?” He murmurs after long moments that feel like eons to your punchdrunk mind. You twitch at the sound of his voice, whining softly — but it quickly cuts off with a sharp gasp when his other suddenly joins the fray, and both of your nipples are being pinched and pulled, and rubbed, and your back almost violently bows from how hard you writhe. “Mmm, I still think you could cum just from having your chest played with, if it went on long enough … would you like to try it, sweet girl? Want me to see if I can make you break apart like this?”

He accompanies this question with a twist of his wrists, tweaking both nipples just so, and you very nearly levitate right up off the bed. “Ooohh, no, no, no, please, sir, no more! I — I don’t think I can take it …” 

“Hearing you say that just makes me want to keep going, you know.” 

Another tweak, to make you jolt and let out a half strangled sob. “Please, Wriothesley … n - no more …”

To your great relief, he does indeed pull away and your tits achingly throb in the aftermath, so raw and stiff it pulls a faltering little mewl out of you. “Alright, since you asked so nicely I suppose we can move on … think you’re ready for this, sweet girl?” 

Weakly twisting on the sheets, you blindly tip your face in the general direction his voice was coming from. It sounded like he was reaching into the bag again, or … perhaps removing his clothes? “I — I don’t even know what’s coming to say if I’m ready for it or not.” 

A faint chuckle from him tickles your ears, and it makes you sensitively shudder on top of the bed. “See why I’m doing it this way now? Pretty little masochists like you deserve to be surprised, and you don’t get the chance to let your mind get the better of you.” 

A sharp zap of static electricity races down your spine, pussy clenching uncomfortably tight as you fitfully squeeze your thighs together. “Is … is it going to hurt, sir?” 

Softly cooing at you, Wriothesley carefully places his hand across your stomach and rubs comforting circles over you for a moment. “Ooh, isn’t that a precious question for you to ask me? And in such a soft little voice too … you’re really testing my self control over here, you know that?” 

You bite down on your lip, not quite trusting yourself to speak anymore, and he gives you one final, affectionate pat before pulling away. The loss of his touch leaves you shuddering there on the bed but thankfully it doesn’t take long for him to come back. You’re a bit surprised when he nudges himself right up against your side and goosebumps promptly erupt over your skin at the sensation of his now bare thigh on your hip. He doesn’t completely straddle you though, slight uncertainty creeping in when he merely grabs your bound hands and then presses them up above your head to pin against the mattress. Letting out a tiny mewl of confusion, you weakly twist against his hold but it’s no use. You’re trapped. 

“Shall I give you a moment to struggle and realize you’re helpless like this,” He drawls in a tone laced with leather suggestion. “Or are you going to take my word for it?” 

You try to speak but nothing comes out. Swallowing your nerves hard enough it almost makes you gag, you have to force your tongue to formulate the words. “I believe you.” It’s little more than a mouse squeak but he hums in clear approval. 

“Good girl. Now, for this I want you to keep still for me, alright? You’re allowed to squeal or cry, or anything else you want, but you need to stay in one place. Do you understand me?” 

“Y -  … yes, sir.” 

Wriothesley shifts over top of you, whispering soft praise while he does it, and you just manage to make out a soft rattle of … metal? It sounded a bit like a dainty chain of some sort but, other than the ones on his usual outfit, you had no idea what it could be. Even trying to tip your head all the way back to peer under the blindfold doesn’t give you so much as a glimpse and you have to fight against the urge to click your tongue. A part of you almost wanted to tell him this wasn’t necessary anymore, that he had you so soaking wet and in need of friction on your leaking cunt that you would have done anything at all to get it but — before you can even think to say it, you feel him reach for your breast. 

You instinctively stiffen up, expecting pain, but you’re not sure what it is exactly that you’re bracing for. Would it be soft at first like when he’d spanked you with his belt or immediate and blistering like his hand usually was? 

The answer comes in the form of something — something hard and unrelenting, and cool to the touch — slowly coming down around your nipple. At first you’re only vaguely aware of it but it quickly ratchets up in intensity the more it closes down. Your mouth drops open as if to scream yet nothing comes out. You don’t even seem to remember how to breathe as you feel it gradually pinch the stiff teat tighter and tighter, and somehow even tighter until … at last, he pulls his hand back. But the crushing force around your nipple stays. It’s blindingly intense and your mind immediately blanks out with the onset of pain. Embarrassingly enough, you squeal. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmurs, barely heard over the deafening pound in your ears. You shake so hard it makes the stinging tip of your breast hurt even worse, prompting you to twist against him in earnest now, but he all too easily keeps your hands pinned above your head. “It’s a lot all at once, isn’t it? Just give yourself a moment to process. There you go. Deep breaths … you’re being such a good girl for me tonight, wearing my pretty little toys on your pretty tits. Now I really do wish I had a kamera.” 

You suck in a sharp, seething breath. Toys? Suddenly that conversation in the fortress comes crashing back to you, and it makes you shudder at the memory of kneeling on the lounge in his office, naked from the waist down and getting your bottom spanked. The thought alone almost seems to send you over the edge, and you pitifully try to grind your obscenely drooling cunt down on the bed for even a modicum of relief. So this was one of those clamps he was telling you about, then. You think you might like to see it but … maybe you weren’t quite brave enough for that just yet. 

“Still with me, little miss?” 

“Oh — ooohhnn … Wriothesley, I - -“

“Do you think you need to tap out?” 

Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Finally you settle on a stilted shake of your head. 

“Alright. Don’t worry about trying to talk right now unless you need to tell me you want a break. I’m sure it’s probably pretty damn hard for you to even think right now, isn’t it?” 

You nod this time, whimpering softly at the note of humor in his voice. Of course you were well aware of his borderline sadistic tendencies, the perfect compliment to your own, evidently masochistic ones, but somehow you hadn’t expected him to enjoy it this much. 

No, maybe that wasn’t quite right. 

It was more like you hadn’t realized just how deep your own depravity ran, and so you’d underestimated his too. You hadn’t been able to even conceive of anything beyond the belt let alone whatever this was, even when he explained it to you, and you almost felt a little foolish in retrospect. Of course there was more beyond just spanking you and bossing you around that he would like. 

Pulled back into the moment by his rough worn palm smoothing over your ribcage, you force your lungs to expand on a painfully deep breath. He softly coos at you, encouraging you to keep taking slow inhales as his hand retreats from you again. You feel the clamp on your sore teat nudge slightly to accompany the quiet jangle of metal and you quickly put two and two together. There was a chain connecting the two pieces. But if he clamped both tits and then tugged on it then — 

“Ooh!” It blurts out of you in a sudden rush and he pauses somewhere above you, hovering for a moment. 

“If you can’t keep yourself still I’ll have to actually tie you down to the bed. Not that I don’t think you’d enjoy it, but I figured you would appreciate having more freedom of movement for this. Trust me when I say you don’t want me to catch you wrong, though. That’ll hurt way worse.” 

Wheezing, you force yourself to stop squirming even though it takes every ounce of self control you have, especially when you feel him reach for the other breast. Somehow the dulling pain in the first made the anticipation of the second so, so much more worse, and you clench your teeth as the pincers slowly start to come down on delicate skin. Same as before, he goes slow with it to give you enough time to adjust and brace against it, but that also makes it so you’re forced to feel each bit of pressure as it’s gradually applied in stunning high definition. Toes flexing tight enough to hurt, you wait until he pulls away and leaves the clamp stuck to your breast before writhing in place as sedately as you can manage. 

You felt truly wild with it but the constant, squeezing pinch on both nipples kept you somewhat grounded for fear of pulling on them and causing even more discomfort. The worst part of all, though, was the fact you’d never been wetter in all your life. Even taking into account at least some of the mess between your legs was lingering saliva from earlier, that still didn’t account for the sheer flood of arousal making your cunt feel sticky and almost obscenely juicy. 

Distantly, you realize that you really were on the verge of begging him just to stuff you full without any concern for your previous worries about being able to take him. You knew you could. You just knew it, beyond a shadow of a doubt now. 

“Aren't you the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen?” Wriothesley murmurs, pulling you just a bit more out of your reeling stupor when he smooths his big hand up your fluttering stomach. “I don’t even have to ask if you’re enjoying this. I can tell you are by the way you keep trying to grind that sweet pussy on the bed. It’s not working though, is it? Poor thing … you need some real attention between your legs now, don’t you?” 

You nod your head slowly, hissing faintly when his fingertips brush the chain and jostle the clamps just enough to make fresh stabs of hurt go through your tits. He coos at you and lightly, tauntingly, gives the metal link a purposeful nudge to make the attached pincers pull, and you really start to think you’re going to lose it. 

“P - please, sir, please … I’m — ooohhh, I’m begging!” 

“And what are you begging for, little miss? Can you tell me?” 

“I … I want …” Choking down a lungful of air, you tip your face down as if to look at yourself but of course it doesn’t work. You’d never felt quite so … powerless before, and it was overwhelmingly amazing. Potent in the worst possible way. “I want it — in my pussy, sir, please!” 

“Oho, that’s mighty crass coming from you, pretty girl. I was starting to wonder if I’d ever break you down enough to make you talk like that.” He chuckles softly at your mewling whimper, dragging his hand back down the length of your body. You go stock still, though, when he dips between your legs and, sure enough, you’re so thoroughly coated in slick that his fingers just wetly slide over your folds. “Is this where you want it? Come on, use your words for me.” 

“Y - yes, sir. I want it there. Please. I’m begging.”

“And you’re doing such a good job. But what do you want specifically? My fingers?” 

You shudder violently when his digits curl back to tease at your entrance, just flirting with the suggestion but not actually breaching you. “Ohh … no, no, not that, sir, please.” 

“Hm? Could it be you want my mouth on you again? Greedy girl. Do you want to sit on my face that badly?” 

Quietly seething, you shake your head. “Please, sir, I … I want — I want your cock, sir. I - in my pussy, please. I need it.” 

He breathes out a low, rumbling groan to that. “You need it? Well, then of course you’ll have it. Good girls who tell me what they want only have to ask once, you know.” 

You feel him lean over you then, getting close, and a tremulous smile pulls at your mouth seconds before he kisses you, slow and deliberate. Your chest heaves in excitement as much as at the steady thrill of pain coursing through your system, and you eagerly try to follow him when he pulls back a moment later. 

“I’m going to let go of your hands and I want you to carefully sit up, alright? Mind you don’t catch your pretty little chain on anything. Understood?” 

“Yes, sir …” 

Another brief kiss pressed to your mouth seals the deal, and then Wriothesley is sitting back to give you some small amount of space. You feel his presence right next to you though, and you find a great deal of comfort in that as you gingerly sit upright with the help of his steady hands. Gently he turns you towards him so he can half lift, half drag you into his lap. The motion jostles the clamps, making you mewl like something small and wounded, but he gets you settled against him quickly enough that the shuddering chain stills again. You have to remind yourself to keep breathing as he carefully nudges further back onto the bed until you seem to be situated somewhere in the middle. Then, you feel him lay out underneath you and you brace your hands against his firm stomach to help balance your weight. 

You were a little surprised though, if you were being honest. Quite surprised, in fact. 

“You won’t be on top, sir?” 

“Not this time, sweetness. I figured it would make you feel better about taking me if you could control the depth and the speed you want to go at. Oh, don’t make that face. Even blindfolded I can tell you’re thinking about calling me a big oaf again.” Laughing quietly, a bit thickly, he reaches up to squeeze your hips in both hands and then reaches further back to grab your ass. 

Swat! Swat! In quick succession, one cheek and then the other, to leave you swaying dizzily on his hips. You were almost too stunned to react. 

“Oooh …” 

“I believe you’re still due for a spanking anyway, and I can’t very well take care of your bottom if I’m on top, can I?” At your seething nod, he squeezes the swell of one cheek and gives it a solid jostle. “That’s what I thought. You love getting your ass spanked, don’t you lovely girl?” 

“Yes, sir, I … I do. But,” You lick your lips, gathering your courage. “Is this a punishment, or … maintenance?” 

“Hm, I was actually thinking this one would just be for pleasure. Why? Do you think you need one or the other?” 

You consider that for a long stretch, a very difficult task when your nipples were burning sore and aching every time the clamps so much as shifted with you. It felt amazing, but it was also making it nigh impossible to think straight. “Maintenance, sir. I think.” 

“Then that is what you will have.” Swat! To make you lurch and shiver on top of him. “Thank me for spanking your ass, pretty girl. Let me hear you.” 

Whining low in your throat, you arch and impotently grind your soaked cunt down on his stomach. “Nnghn, thank you, sir! Thank you! Can — can I have your cock now?” 

Growling so heavily it seems to bleed from him straight into you, Wriothesley’s fingers dig into your hips and scoot you down a little further until you feel the distinct brush of coarse pubic hair touch your inner thigh. Your throbbing cunt positively clenches as you gladly let him tip your pelvis forward until you're half laying on top of him, even when it makes the chain attached to your nipples pool across his skin. One hand drags up to clutch your waist, squeezing the love handles there, while the other reaches back to give you another hard swat across the ass cheek. 

“Eek! T - thank you, sir!” 

The next slap doesn’t come. Instead you feel the head of his cock nudge up against you from behind, guided by his hand, and you go ramrod stiff on top of him. Your mouth slowly drops open as if to scream but nothing comes out while he tauntingly draws himself over your folds, bumping your clit on occasion and mostly just teasing your drenched entrance. The muscle squeezes each time he gets close, trying to pull him in, but he seems content to take his time with it. Up and down, up and down — it was driving you mad, and you plaintively rear back in your desperation. 

“P - pleeeaase, I want it!” 

“Then take it, little miss. Help yourself.” 

His cock abruptly stills, pressed right against your squeezing hole, but it doesn’t push up. It doesn’t move. Just sits there, waiting, and you pitifully groan when you realize what he’s doing. With a weak little mewl, you clench your hands where they’re braced on his stomach and carefully, hesitantly start to ease back. Your heart slams a deafening beat in your ears, but all you can seem to focus on is the slow pressure of your body taking him in. It’s stilted and gradual in this position with you at the helm, and yet you’re so incredibly wet that there’s not much resistance to show for it. 

The glans is smooth and fleshy as it penetrates your cunt, sliding right into place within you. You’re immediately aware of how very warm he is, how smooth, and you suck in a thin breath to steady yourself before sinking further down. Inch by excruciating inch, he slips into the tight sleeve of your pussy and stretches you open around him in the process. It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling full, and you have to pause to steady your nerves when it’s only a third of the way in. 

“God, you feel amazing,” Wriothesley practically gasps, his voice so thick and strained he sounds genuinely distressed in your cotton stuffed mind. The hand on your waist just squeezes tighter, clutching you like he was afraid you might disappear. “Go at your own pace, baby. Fuck yourself on me just like that and work your way up to it.” 

The dangling chain on your tits clatters softly and drags over his abdomen when you gingerly angle your hips up and then press them back down. Even for as subdued as the downward thrust is, it still has you moaning at how good he feels penetrating you. So you do it again, ever so slowly rocking your heaving body against the cock behind you until you find a steady rhythm. You weren’t sure how much of him you were actually taking yet, but you knew you already felt stuffed. He was thick and heavy, and the delicious glide of skin just makes you even hungrier for more. 

Mindless with your need, you pull him in a little deeper on the next slow motion plunge, and Wriothesley outright seethes underneath you. 

“Ohh, that’s it, sweetheart, just like that. You look so good stretching out that pretty pussy on my cock … and your tits — bless the seven, I knew you’d love my toys. Your nipples were made for this, weren’t they?” 

You start to nod your head, so focused on grinding your cunt over him that you aren’t really sure what you’re agreeing with. It doesn’t seem to really  matter though. Wriothesley lets go of your hip so he can reach up and give the chain a taunting tug but the pressure on your poor teats was so great that it makes you shriek as if he’d struck you full force. The discomfort is so sharp and blinding your hips falter, and you sink even further down on his length when you give a subconscious jerk. Your cunt suddenly feels ten times more full, a feat you hadn’t thought possible, and for a moment you just freeze on top of him. 

It was all you could do just to keep drawing air into your lungs. You felt like you were going to implode in the most literal sense. 

But, evidently, you had enough of him sheathed inside you that he could remove his hand now, and he reaches up to swat your ass again. “Do you even realize how much you’re squeezing me right now? And you just keep getting tighter every time I spank you or pull on your tits … who would have ever thought such a sweet girl could be this much of a masochist?” 

Chest heaving, you fitfully turn your head this way and that as if seeking him out through the blindfold. “Please, sir, oh gods above, please move!” 

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want to, trust me — shit, it’s taking everything I have not to slam myself balls deep in you right this second. But I want you to do this by yourself first. Can you do that for me?”

You whine and shake, legs trembling from the effort of holding your cunt in place when you wanted nothing more than to bury him inside you straight down to the hilt. He was so big that it was still overwhelming though, especially when your mind was positively drowning in the absolute rush of sensation assaulting you all at once. The warm handprints on your ass, the clamps on your tits, the soft silk binding your wrists together and the one around your eyes, the sheer presence of him sitting inside your body. 

Weakly, you sink down another inch and let out a frantic, keening sound of pleasure. 

“Oooh, good girl. You’re almost there. Just another push and you’ll be sitting on my cock.” 

It’s almost alarming to hear that there’s still more of him to take, but after having it shoved almost down your throat you had a pretty good grasp on his size. You could tell you were almost down to the widest part now just by the nearly obscene stretch of your cunt lips around him, and you take a moment just to grind yourself with the faltering motions of your hips. It didn’t hurt, nor was it uncomfortable, it was just — a lot to process all at once. A big hurdle. 

But just like every other time he’s pushed you right to the limit, Wriothesley remains a steady, comforting presence underneath you. His soft praise continues to rain over you even while he pinches the meat of your ass hard enough to make your toes curl, or he nudges the chain to rattle your nipple clamps. It really is too much and, feeling delirious with it, you finally relax your legs and allow your weight to sink you down the rest of the way until you’re at last firmly seated on his cock. 

You feel so horribly stretched out and full that you just sit there, twitching on top of him, while Wriothesley groans low in his throat. His hips shudder with the instinctive urge and masculine drive to thrust up, to lose himself in the tight wet warmth of your cunt, but he refrains. Even when it’s obviously taking every ounce of willpower he possesses, he still waits for you to get your bearings straight and suck in a haggard gasp. 

“Wriothesley, please …” 

“Shh. I’ve got you, pretty girl.” He sounds almost as flustered as you do now, and you groan very softly when he smooths those big palms over your ribs again. “You did so well. Are you ready for me to move?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Drawing a slow breath to steady himself, he drags his hands down to hold your hips instead. You feel him shift under you, jostling you slightly, and you think he must be adjusting his feet where they’re braced on the bed. That’s the last semi coherent thought you have, because he rolls his hips up in the next moment and the pressure inside you doubles, triples, leaves you choking on the blinding sensation of his cock pressing so deep you can practically taste it on the back of your tongue. All you can do is cry out in blissful agony as he gradually falls into a rhythm, just grinding up into your pulpy cunt for a long moment until you start to feel well and truly faint. 

Then, his own heaving groans increasing with it, Wriothesley starts to carefully thrust in and out of you, somewhat sedately at first but it quickly starts to pick up speed. The force of his flexing hips driving into you rocks you and, with it, so does the chain start to bounce and pull on your tits. Your already frantic sounds of pleasure soon take on a dire tinge, everything almost too much for you to process in that moment. You felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces. He was breaking you, splitting you straight down the middle, and - -

Swat! 

The sting of his hand across your ass immediately grounds you, startles you out of your own head, and you lurch on top of him. 

“Ooh! God! W - Wriothesley!” 

He grunts somewhere seemingly far below you, driving his cock through your squeezing passage a little harder. A little faster. “How’s it feel, pretty girl? Nnghhn … you like how that cock feels deep in your pussy?” 

“I love it!” 

Noising a rumbling sound of satisfaction, he slaps your bouncing ass again, and stars erupt across your eyes. “I knew you would. I told you, didn’t I? I’m going to make sure you’re well taken care of no matter what … oohhnn, yeah, squeeze me tighter, little miss. That’s it. Are you about to cum for me?” 

You jerk your head in a quick nod, unable to find your voice when it felt like the pressure inside you was starting to collapse in on itself. There was too much of it. Too much stimuli, too many different sensations. Pleasure and pain so horribly intermingled that you couldn’t even tell what was what anymore. Your nipples were screaming in agony, but it felt so good you could have sobbed. His cock was easily the most pleasure inducing of all, but the way it forces your clenching muscles open again and again, and again made it toe the line of discomfort. His hand - -

Swat! 

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

You’re completely blindsided when you do just that. 

Your pussy spasms on the drop of a coin, sending you into a wild fit of convulsions. You mindlessly shriek and dig your nails into his hard stomach, desperately trying to steady yourself before you can vibrate right off him. But the waves of crashing ecstasy just keep coming, over and over, rocking you straight to the marrow of your bones. Wriothesley hisses at the sensation of your body wildly trying to milk him but he keeps fucking you through it, persistent even now. All you can do is hold on for dear life, and quake so hard the bed rattles from the force. 

“Oh, fuck,” He pants when you finally start to come down from it some moments later, and the uncontrollable tremors working through your shuddering frame begin to ease up into sensitive twitching. His thrusts gradually slow as well to leave you wheezing on top of him, your cunt weakly palpitating around him where he remains wedged inside you. 

It was … by and far, the most amazing experience of your life, and you practically collapse into his arms when he reaches up to tug you close. You would have been perfectly content to snuggle up against his chest right then and there, but the clamps tug at your breasts to make you whine. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Come here, let’s get these off you.” As gentle as can be, Wriothesley gathers you close with one hand curled around your back while the other reaches for one of your tits. “Fair warning, this is going to hurt. I want you to breathe through it, okay?” 

At your bubbling nod, you feel him take the clamp in his fingers and — your mouth promptly drops open to scream when the metal pincers start to retract. All that comes out is a hurt, tiny little mewl of pain though, and he issues a faltering sigh when your pussy clenches around him tight. You can feel the skin sticking to the merciless contraption as he steadily pulls it loose, and you really do sob when all that’s left in the wake of it is a fiercely buzzing ache. 

He’s quick to soothe you though, carefully taking the abused bud between his fingers to lightly work out some of the hurt. It’s bad enough to make you seethe, but you can’t quite ignore the way your cunt positively throbs around him. You had no idea what it said about you as a person but you did indeed like it. 

Quite a lot, in fact. 

“Oh, little miss. Look at you. Your poor nipple really hurts, doesn’t it?” Laughing softly at your stilted nod, he leans up to press a quick kiss to your mouth. “I’d tell you I’m sorry for it but I can tell just how much you like it by the way you keep squeezing me …” 

“The other one.” You whimper, dreading it almost as much as you would be glad to have it off. 

It seemed like the reverse of having them put on, and now that you were anticipating the agony of the second it made it so incredibly tortuous. But he obliges you, reaching to the other side and … you can’t quite stop yourself from squealing this time, helplessly twisting against him. 

“There.” He huffs, tossing the clamps aside to hit the bed somewhere before bringing his hands up to fiddle with the knot behind your head. “I’m going to take this off as well but make sure you give your eyes a moment to adjust, alright?” 

You almost think it’s a little silly, for him to be taking care of you like this when he was still sitting hot and heavy, and rock hard inside you but you can’t quite find it in yourself to be upset about it right now. The red silk slips away, and you squeeze your eyes shut against the glare of the light.  Wriothesley takes the moment to kiss over your face, paying special attention to your eyelashes where they flutter against your cheeks, and you nearly find yourself drifting off from how very comfortable it is. Nice, and intimate. 

But you eventually crack your eyes open and peer up at him, struck by how darkly handsome and enticing he looks in that moment. All ruffled and coated in a fine sheen of sweat, the hunger you still see reflected in his eyes attesting to how badly he wanted to rut up into your pussy but … he doesn’t. Not yet. He just fixes you with that vaguely secretive smile and brushes some of the hair back from your face. 

“You look quite pleased,” He murmurs, clearly proud of himself and the mess he’s made of you. 

“Aren’t you going to finish?” You whisper as you pointedly rock back against his cock, making him suck in a deep, savory breath. 

“I planned on it, you little minx. I just wanted to check in on you first.” Bringing his hand down, he cups the side of your face and just studies you for a long moment. “Would you like to have your hands untied as well?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You smile to yourself as he works on getting the knot loose with practiced motions. He’d clearly done this before, many times if you had to take a guess, and suddenly your curiosity couldn’t wait any longer. “Where did you learn about all this stuff?” 

“Hm? I told you I got sent to prison.” 

“Yes, but,” You frown at that. “What does it have to do with this?” 

Wriothesley sends you a meaningful look as the tie comes loose, and he gently rubs over your wrists to smooth out any of the ache there. “Well, I was a teenager, for starters. All kinds of hormones and physical changes going on, and with the crowd that ends up in Meropide I’m sure you can imagine how easily I fell into certain … circles.” 

“Oh.” You blink at that, not sure if you should be horrified by that news or not, but he just laughs at the dawning look on your face. 

“It’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about. I didn’t participate much at first. Mostly just watched and observed, and learned. It was all very interesting to me at the time, as I’m sure you can imagine, and it wasn’t until much later when I actually found someone to play with. Someone who liked to be in charge as much as she enjoyed getting pushed around, so I got the best of both worlds.” 

You sit up a little straighter, wide eyed gaze fixed on his face. “You let someone … do to you what you do to me?” 

Wrapping his arms around you now, Wriothesley gathers you close to his chest, looking at you from just a scant few inches away as he settles back against the bed and gets comfortable. “Yes, but I quickly found that I much preferred being in the dominant role. Unlike you, pretty girl, I don’t get very much out of receiving pain … but I certainly enjoy inflicting it.” 

Squirming when he pinches at your side, you give his thick arm a quick smack. “Stop that. This is a serious conversation!” An almost ironic thing to say when he was still pulsing inside you but, to your relief, he immediately sobers. “Is … is she still at the prison?” 

“No, her sentence ended long before I even became the duke of the fortress and she returned to the surface. And before you ask, I never tried to look for her. There wasn’t ever any reason to. She was just someone to kill time with. The thought of spending any meaningful time with her beyond venting our frustrations and pent up energy on each other didn't so much as cross my mind. Nothing like you. I’d scour every corner of this world without rest just to get you back if we were ever separated like that.” 

You can’t help but warm for him, and you happily accept the kiss he leans up to plant on your mouth. It’s a brief exchange though, just enough to have you signing in contentment against him, and then he’s pulling back. The shift in his expression doesn’t go unnoticed, and you’re not at all surprised when he drags those big calloused palms lower to squeeze your ass. 

“I think I still owe you a few more spankings … think you’re ready for the rest?” 

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, sinking into the comforting warmth of his body as he slowly angles his hips back to drag his cock through your guts. The zap of friction has your toes curling again, but you knew you were well past the point of satiation and would not be finding a third release tonight. 

You’re not particularly bothered by that after everything he’d already given you though, so you just lay there across him, leisurely kissing him while he fucks up into you at a tortuously stilted pace. In and out, in and out, just rocking you gently until you think you might doze off and — 

Swat! 

“Oh!” You give a little jolt, delighting in the spreading warmth across your ass. The dull, aching throbs of your sore nipples and the vague thrum deep in your cunt. You were undoubtedly going to be sore tomorrow, but you didn’t really care. “Mm, thank you, sir.” 

“You’re very welcome, little miss.” He says softly, tipping his head back against the sheets to groan. “You really do have the sweetest pussy … you’re still gripping me so well even after two orgasms.” 

Swat! This time accompanied by a tight, squeezing pinch and a rough jostle. 

“Nnghn … thank you, sir.” 

It’s easy to get lost in it, that intimate, swimming daze floating around you while he fucks you and slaps your bottom red. He never quite picks up the same speed or intensity as he did earlier, and you soon realize that this was entirely for him now. Wriothesley was just enjoying the feel of you wrapped around him, clenching his cock, the soft, wet little clicks he pulls from between your legs as they echo off the walls. It was beyond intoxicating, and you quickly succumb to the hard sting of his hand, just as you always did. 

Swat! 

“Thank you, sir … oooh … Wriothesley - -“ You cut off with a sharp gasp when the next swing lands, jiggling the meat of your behind from the impact. 

“What is it, pretty girl? Don’t tell me you’re ready for round three?” He laughs, low and very close to being breathless. 

“No, it’s not that …” A hot, faltering groan slips out of you the next time his cock pushes inside you, and you weakly push up to brace your arms against his broad barrel chest so you can look at him. “I … I just wanted to say … I love you, too.” 

A flash of genuine surprise crosses his face, but it’s almost immediately overshadowed by the deep pleasure that settles into place just a second later. “Oh, fuck, baby, why did you say that right now?” 

Sensitively gasping, he wraps stiff arms around your body and practically flattens you against him. The rhythm of his thrusts turns messy, no longer smooth and certain, but a bit jerky and uneven now, as if his need to cum had ratcheted far beyond the point of him being able to temper it. He presses his mouth against the top of your head, his breathing turning ragged and quick while he just holds you like that, so thoroughly pinned against the front of him you couldn’t have pulled away even if you’d tried. 

You let out a mewling whine when you feel him shudder underneath you, his frame so tense and halting that it almost reignites your own arousal. You’re sure you know what’s coming, but it still surprises you slightly how much he huffs and puffs into your hair at the onset of his release. 

“Oooh, gods above … I’m going to cum, sweetheart. I’m going to cum deep inside that tight pussy, okay? Will you let me?” 

“Of course, Wriothesley.” You whimper softly, clutching at his tense shoulders. “You don’t have to ask. Cum in me as much as you want.” 

He outright seethes at that, hips bucking uncontrollably now. His cock pulses inside you and then twitches, pressing in against your upper wall hard enough to pull a moan out of you, and then it gives a muted little jerk. You can’t help but gasp at the hot, spreading sensation that immediately follows, your pussy fluttering around him as much as the pooling warmth that seems to bleed deep into you. He lets out a final, heaving grunt of deep, masculine pleasure, and then he stills, holding himself through the shuddering tail end of his release while he pumps everything he’s got into your waiting clutch. You sway on top of him, a bit blindsided by how … good it actually felt to have his seed coating your guts in a thick, goopy mess. 

You weren’t so sure about the clean up just yet but this you could certainly get used to. 

At length, Wriothesley finally goes slack under you with a rumbling sigh and his arms loosen enough for you to push yourself up to look at him again. He looks like he’s still recovering, blue eyes distant and almost dreamy, and yet he still manages to give you one of those lazy, secretive little smiles. 

“I think you’re probably going to regret that.” 

“Regret what?” 

“Giving me permission to cum inside you as much as I want.” Sighing, he carefully gathers you up again and rolls you over onto your side. You give a soft squeak when his softening cock slips free at the motion, but he’s snuggling up close to you before you can complain about needing to get a rag. In fact, you promptly forget all about it as he half curls his much bigger body around yours and gets comfortable, settling his face inches from yours on the sheets. “Putting my poor sense of humor aside … thank you, sweet girl. You’re much too kind to me and so much more than I could have ever hoped myself worthy of.” 

You can’t help but laugh as you bring your hand up to brush some of the hair back off his sweat dampened forehead. He looked surprisingly handsome like that, you were a bit surprised to find. Almost dashing. “Don’t say that … especially when I was just thinking the same thing of you. I know it’s been a rocky road but … but I really am glad I was able to meet you in this life, Wriothesley.”

“I am too.” He murmurs, leaning in to press his mouth to yours in a slow, savory kiss. You practically melt into him at the stilted press and pull of his mouth, carding your hand back through his hair, and you can’t help but softly whine when he retreats a moment later. “By the way, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you.” 

Your brows knit in confusion. “What kind of surprise?” 

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” He chuckles, brushing another kiss over your lips. “We can go pick it up together tomorrow, if you’d like. I made the arrangements right after the fundraiser, but with everything going on I just didn’t get the chance to tell you.” 

There was no denying that you were a bit suspicious of it, but you find yourself smiling anyway. “Alright … do I at least get a hint?” 

“Not even a little one.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

One week later … 

“Oh my goodness, isn’t he just the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” Furina squeals and titters, cooing over the dozing bundle in your arms with so much enthusiasm that a few of the cafe staff members actually stop to glance over. You didn’t really mind it though. You’d had much the same reaction the first time you laid eyes on him, and sometimes you still did. It was exceedingly hard not to, if you were being honest. 

Even now when you turn your attention down to look at the furry little face blearily staring back at you, almost too tired to keep his eyes open, you feel a strangely intense flood of emotions rush through your chest. You aren’t quite sure what it is, exactly, but you know it’s something not unlike love. Tumultuous but calming at the same time. Peaceful, and yet frighteningly daunting. 

You think, idly, this might be how parents feel about their children. A love unconditional and so, so overwhelming it almost brings you to tears at least once a day. If you hadn’t been navigating this unexpected journey with Wriothesley right at your side you were certain you would have been a right and proper mess. 

“He’s a very good boy.” You tell her in full confidence. Even barring the occasional accident or behavioral correction, he’d been nothing but a sweet angel since you’d brought him home. “I was a bit worried he’d like Wriothesley more than me since he’s so … you know. Big and in charge of everything, but he actually sticks to me like glue. I can’t even use the bathroom without him sitting outside the door crying.” 

Furina looks like she just might start crying too. “That is so stinking cute! Oh, I really am jealous! What sort of dog is he?” 

You turn a little sheepish at that. “A mastiff.” 

Her eyes go so big and wide you’re a bit worried they’re going to pop right out of her head and roll across the table. 

“But that’s so — large! Aren’t you worried about him … I don’t know, pushing you around when he’s older?” 

Shaking your head, you reach down to fiddle with an oversized black paw. The puppy just lets you do it without even a huff of protest, his arm perfectly boneless and pliable under your fingers. “Wriothesley said these guys are big, giant babies but very protective. He told me if he ever wasn’t around and someone tried to mess with me, this little guy here would rip them apart … and I’m not so sure he was joking about that.” 

Furina shoots a cautious look at the lounging dog, but quickly recovers her usual bluster. “Well, I am very happy for the two of you and I will be sending you a gift basket in the coming days to celebrate this adorable addition to your family!” 

You falter at that, turning a wide eyed look on her. “Is that really necessary, Lady Furina? I don’t want to put you out or anything …” 

“Of course it is! Things like this deserve to be celebrated, don’t you think?” Reaching over, she softly tickles the pup’s exposed belly and he gives his leg a lazy kick in response, much to her giggling delight. “Ohh, I really can’t help but feel a bit envious though. I wonder how mad Neuvillette would be if I suddenly brought home a puppy …” 

Spotting your chance, you eagerly jump on it. “Speaking of, Lady Furina, I meant to ask you about that.” 

She jerks her attention up at you, cheeks coloring a charming shade of pink. “Wh — ask me about what, dear peach? S - surely you don’t suspect me of anything?” 

If you didn’t already, you certainly would have now. 

Grinning, you secretively bend your head close to hers. The puppy Wriothesley got for you grumbles faintly between the two of you, unaccustomed to not being the center of attention now, but you and the Hydro Archon are too busy whispering amongst yourselves to give in to his huffy demands right that moment. Soon, you and Furina are laughing together, squealing softly over something one or the other has said. It was nice, and it was comfortable. Warm in the mid afternoon sun sitting out on the cafe patio with her. 

And in the light, the ring Wriothesley put on your finger glitters blindingly for all to see. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The End

⭐

Crossposted: here

[weemssapphic]

Hey I was wondering if you'd be willing to write a Larissa weems X reader (smut with a corruption/marking kink). R is a new teacher and is very young (19-21) but is very smart and passionate about what they teach. The only issue is that due to them dedicating so much time and effort to completing their studies early it means they didn't have the typical college/highschool experience.

Larissa somehow discovers r is a virgin and makes it her life's mission to being the one who takes their virginity. Larissa starts flirting with r more which leaves r a stuttering/blushing mess. Eventually they both get what they desire and Larissa is patient letting r try both being the bottom and top. Featuring some nice cuddling afterwards where Larissa whispers to r that their hers and only hers.

Hers and Only Hers

thank you so much for the request, anon! i'm so sorry it took me so long to write this, the past weeks have been a bit busy and i wanted to do it justice. i hope the wait was worth it <;3 it also got a bit long, oops. ao3 link in title, as always.

warnings/content: nsfw/smut (oral, fingering), corruption kink, marking kink, bit of fluff and cuddling, age gap (teacher!reader is 20)

words: ~4.5k

tags for those who may be interested: @afeatherformills @sapphicsbeloved @scumppa @zephyr-is-tired

Back in school you had always been top of your class, skipping several grades before you had even made it to high school. Thanks to this, you had been able to finish college well before many of your friends had even started, and applied for an open position as the botanical sciences teacher at Nevermore Academy. You’d assumed that being 20 years old and barely older than some of the students would be an obstacle, but apparently you’d made such a good impression on the principal, Larissa Weems, that you’d been hired on the spot.

Your first few weeks at Nevermore had been nice, for the most part. You love being in the greenhouse, working with the plants. Your coworkers are welcoming and treat you like a daughter. Even the students seem to be warming up to you nicely.

But then there is Principal Weems. The woman who somehow manages to turn you into a stuttering mess whenever you see her. A tall, statuesque woman with silvery curls, cerulean eyes, lips always painted a shade of bright red to match her manicure. A woman whose smile always reaches her eyes, making your stomach do backflips whenever it’s directed towards you, bringing a blush to your cheeks and filling your dreams at night. It seems you’ve developed a bit of a crush on your boss.

~~

Larissa is just heading out of her office to meet with Mayor Walker, blazer slung over her arm and keys jingling in her hand, as she hears your voice carry into her rooms from the hallway outside. Her ears perk up in spite of herself, she has been intrigued by you from the moment she first laid eyes on you. She had been impressed with you from the first time she’d seen your resume - such high academic qualifications at such a young age - and since having you on her staff, she had realized just how sweet, genuine and kind you were. She had to admit she was developing quite the soft spot for you.

“Keep your voice down,” she hears you hiss. “The last thing I need is for the students to hear you, I feel like they already barely respect me as it is.”

The voice of another teacher interrupts your own. “Aw come on, that’s not true, they love you! But Jesus, you really haven’t slept with anyone? Ever?”

Larissa feels an unexplained warmth in her cheeks, pressing her ear to the door as your voices drift away down the hall.

“No, I’m a virgin, okay!” Larissa can hear the annoyance and defeat in your voice. “I guess I was just always more focused on school than dating or anything like that.”

Your voice fades into nothingness as you and your coworker round the corner.

Larissa slumps back against the door, hands dropping to her side, instinctively crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together for friction as a wetness pools between the apex of her legs.

You are a virgin. Of course you are. Larissa can’t explain it but the thought makes her core ache with desire. A low chuckle escapes her lips. You’re too sweet, too innocent. Suddenly a million thoughts fill her head: she imagines her lips on your neck, covering you in marks to show the world she’s claimed you as her own. She imagines showing you what you’ve been missing this whole time, taking your precious innocence, revealing to you the feeling of true ecstasy, making you writhe in pleasure beneath her.

Her lips quirk up in a smile, a plan forming in her mind. She was going to have you - and Larissa Weems always got what she wanted.

~~

Shit. You slept through your alarm that morning and if you didn’t hurry, you’d be late to your first lesson of the day. You practically fly down the hallway, dodging several groups of students, and skid around a corner when you suddenly collide with something solid and fall back. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact that is sure to come, but it never does. Instead, you feel a pair of strong arms slink around your waist and catch you just before you hit the ground.

Your eyes fly open in confusion and you find your face inches away from that of your boss. “Principal Weems,” you squeak out, “I’m so sorry!”

“Please, darling, call me Larissa,” she whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, so close that you think you can feel her lips brush against your skin. The action makes you shiver, and you know Larissa feels this because she’s still holding you in her arms. A heat rises from your cheeks to the tips of your ears and you know you’ve turned beet red.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re blushing.” Larissa smiles warmly, her eyes crinkling at the outer corners. “There’s no need to be embarrassed.” She pulls you up swiftly and you’re nearly flush against her. You have to crane your neck back to look up at her - has she always been this tall? It takes your breath away to look up at her like this.

“I’m just late to class, I overslept this morning,” you twist your fingers together nervously, afraid you’ll be reprimanded by the headmistress.

“It happens to the best of us,” Larissa cups your cheek and shoots you a wink. You are so damn cute when you’re nervous, it takes all of her self control not to shove you against the wall and take you right then and there.

Your heart skips a beat and the air around you feels like it’s thinning. “I’d b-better get going,” you manage to choke out. T-thanks for catching me, Princip- Larissa.”

You don’t look back as you hurry off to the greenhouse, and it’s good that you don’t or you’d have caught Larissa staring at your ass as you’d walked away.

~~

The next time you see Larissa, you’re standing in line at the Weathervane when you feel a looming presence behind you. 

“So, what do you usually order?” A teasing voice purrs in your ear.

You feel your cheeks redden involuntarily - your boss should not be having this effect on you.

“Um, coffee makes me a bit jittery so I usually go for hot chocolate,” you pray this doesn’t make you sound lame, you know how dependent everyone seems to be on their morning coffee, but your statement seems to pull Larissa’s lips up into a genuine grin.

“Then you’re in luck, my darling, the Weathervane has some of the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had.” The pet name makes your stomach flip and you swallow thickly, unable to do anything but nod as Larissa stares at you with a fondness in her eyes that you can’t quite explain, but that makes your heart ache with desire all the same.

“What can I get for you?” The barista’s voice snaps you out of your trance. Before you can say a word, Larissa replies for you - “two large hot chocolates please, did you want yours to go?” She looks down at you and you nod numbly. You reach for your wallet but she swats your hand away, pursing her lips as she pays for your drinks.

“Thank you so much, Larissa, you really didn’t have to pay for me,” you gush out as the two of you wait for the barista to make your order.

Larissa waves a dismissive hand in front of her face, smirking. “Please, darling, it’s no trouble at all, you’ll find a way to pay me back.” There’s a suggestive glint in her eyes and the way her tongue runs over her bottom lip, eyes trailing briefly down your body makes an unfamiliar heat coil in your stomach. 

She takes her drink in her gloved hand and gives your shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Perhaps we could come here together sometime.” 

Her hip grazes yours as she brushes past you and exits the Weathervane, crossing the street to head towards Dr. Kinbott’s office, leaving you a dizzy, blushing mess.

~~

“Alright class,” you call out as the students stuff their notebooks into their bags. “Don’t forget about the exam on Monday!”

“Oh come on, can’t we postpone it?” Xavier huffs. 

“It’s not fair to have an exam on a Monday anyway,” Ajax chimes in, rolling his eyes.

A ripple goes through the classroom, other students murmuring their agreement.

“Come on guys,” you plead. “If you completed the study guide, you’ll do just fine. I will not be postponing this test. Do you complain like this to all your teachers?”

A series of groans reaches your ears and one by one, your students shuffle out. Enid shoots you an apologetic glance and mouths “sorry”, which you appreciate, and you wave her off with a tired smile.

You watch the last of your students file out the door, then turn to your open laptop to get a head start on some grading that needs to be done for next week’s classes when an email pops up in the corner of your screen. You open it and your stomach flips.

Dear Y/N,

I hope your first weeks of classes have exceeded your expectations. 

If you have the time, I would love to see you in my office for a chat tonight at 7.

Please, do let me know.

Larissa

Your palms begin to sweat and your mind immediately jumps to the worst case scenario. What could Principal Weems possibly want from you? She’d seemed friendly enough in your last interactions. Maybe even too friendly. Maybe she felt bad for you?

You hold your breath as you type out a confirmation that you’ll be there, then turn back to your grading - not that you can focus on your work now.

~~

6:59pm. You’re standing at the wood-paneled doors to Larissa’s office, holding your breath. You raise your fist and knock twice. 

“Come in,” Larissa’s smooth voice sounds from deep within the room.

“Take a seat,” Larissa is sitting behind her desk, leaning back in her leather chair, a pensive look on her face. A fire burns in the imposing fireplace, casting a warm glow over her office.

You close the door behind you and step towards her, lowering herself into one of the plush armchairs facing her desk. Your heart is beating wildly out of your chest, you’re sure Larissa can smell how anxious you are. You rub your sweaty palms on the back of your skirt in a vain attempt to calm your nerves.

Larissa looks composed but within her, a fire burns. She can tell how tense you are and she finds it so very endearing. She watches you chew at your lip and presses her thighs together involuntarily. She wants to see how you come undone, wants to hear her own name tumble from your sweet, innocent lips. Something about watching you squirm under her gaze stokes the fire within her.

“You’re not in trouble,” she coos, and you visibly relax in the armchair in front of her. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. See if you need anything. You’re our only new addition to the staff this year and we haven’t had a chance to properly speak, just the two of us. I trust everyone is treating you with respect?”

“Oh. Yeah, everyone’s been really, really nice. I’ve had a bit of a rough day, but it’s nothing I can’t work out.” You sigh and force a smile, eyes cast downwards, fingers twisting absently in your lap.

Larissa stands and rounds her desk at your admission, leaning down in front of you and taking your chin between her fingers, forcing you to meet her eyes, which are full of genuine concern.

“Has something happened?”

“Not really. My students just like to challenge me every chance they get. I get it, I’m pretty close to their age, but it’s frustrating.” 

Larissa nods her understanding. She’s inches away from you now and your breathing is shallow, the tension in the room now thick enough to cut with a knife. Your gaze flickers down to her cherry-red lips and when you look back up, you notice a hunger in her eyes that wasn’t there before, widened pupils staring back at you. Larissa’s thumb traces the hollow of your cheek, causing your breath to hitch, and suddenly she’s leaning in, brushing her lips softly against yours. 

Your pulse skyrockets, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. It’s not that you don’t want this, of course you do, you’ve wanted it from the moment you laid eyes on the woman. You just hadn’t realized she’d also wanted it.

“Larissa?” You pull back, dazed, your eyes search hers. Her gaze is soft and reassuring, but there’s something else there. You’d seen it in movies, read about it in novels, but never had a look like this been directed at you before. Lust. Pure, unadulterated lust.

“Is this okay, Y/N?” Larissa whispers urgently, cupping your cheek and running her thumb over your bottom lip.

You nod fervently. “Yes. Absolutely.” Like hell you were going to waste your one chance with Larissa Weems.

Larissa moans and pulls you in for a searing kiss. Her tongue swipes at your lower lip and you part your lips, allowing her to explore the planes of your mouth as her hands drop from your face to your waist, pulling you up out of the chair and flush against her. You aren’t sure if it’s the warmth of the fire or your close proximity but your entire body is burning, a pleasant tingling sensation settling in your stomach and moving its way through your limbs.

You pull apart and her mouth is on your ear, her warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Tell me what you want, whatever you want, and it’s yours.”

You hesitate, frozen in place, fear bubbling up in your stomach and rushing through your veins like ice.

“Ihaven’tactuallydoneanythinglikethisbefore,” you mumble, eyes locked in a staring contest with Larissa’s black heels.

“Darling,” Larissa hooks a finger under your chin and forces you to make eye contact with her, which makes your cheeks burn - you’re sure your entire face is on fire now. “You’re going to have to speak up, I can’t understand you.”

You suck in a deep breath. “I’m a virgin.” 

There’s a moment of deafening silence, but the hunger in Larissa’s eyes never dies. Instead, her pupils are blown wide, you can see her clench her thighs together out of the corner of your eyes, she looks ravenous. 

You are surprised when Larissa offers you a hand and guides you to a door on the far right of her study, that leads to her private quarters. 

“I thought we might be more comfortable here,” her voice drips with lust as she closes the door behind you, allowing you a moment to take in the sight of her lavishly decorated bedroom, complete with a massive, queen-sized bed at the center. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I want to,” you reply quickly, far too quickly, and you want to hit yourself for being so eager, but Larissa seems to find it endearing, as she smiles at you and guides you towards the bed.

You sit gingerly on the edge of the bed and Larissa places a hand on each of your thighs, parting them gently and simultaneously pushing up your skirt, letting out a groan as she sees the damp patch at the center of your cotton panties. 

“We haven’t even gotten started and you’re already so wet for me, hmm?” Her finger teases your core, which is absolutely drenched at the mere thought of her, and you stifle a moan, throwing your head back at the touch.

“Ah-ah, let me hear you. I want to hear every sound you make, okay?” Larissa coos. “Don’t hold back on me.”

You draw in a ragged breath and nod, already dizzy from the idea of Larissa inches away from your dripping cunt.

Larissa plants a trail of kisses along your jaw, moving down the column of your neck until she is at the base of your throat, swirling her tongue over your pulse point. She begins to suck, gently at first then harder, eliciting a soft moan from deep within your throat as she nips at your skin, leaving a small red mark behind. 

Smirking at her handiwork, her hands come to a rest on your chest, fingers hovering over the buttons of your blouse.

“I’ve wanted you from the second I first laid eyes on you. Such a pretty, innocent little thing. May I?” The question is doused in carnal desire, Larissa’s voice low and wanting.

“Yes,” you whisper, your eyes following her fingers, long and slender, as they deftly work their way down your top, pushing it down your shoulders and then moving to the zipper at the side of your skirt. 

You feel exposed, sitting on Larissa’s bed in just your bra and underwear, face and chest flushed, but something about Larissa’s tender gaze and soft touch make you feel safe. Her hands move from your flesh to her own, tugging at the zipper of her cream colored dress, and your eyes watch as she drags it down her curves at a tantalizing pace until it pools at her feet. 

Larissa’s knees come up to straddle your lap, pulling you further up the bed with her until you’re resting against her pillows. She’s hovering over you now, one hand on either side of your head, your bodies pressed against each other. 

“Are you comfortable?” Her lips brush against yours and you whimper, nodding into the kiss, which Larissa deapens with a groan.

Her hand comes down to your side, moving under your back to unclasp your bra and pushing it to the side to grant herself access to your breasts. She kneads at the soft flesh, flicking her thumb over your nipple until she’s satisfied with how hard it is, before moving to your other breast. 

Her mouth finds your throat again, her tongue lapping at your skin, swirling, sucking, claiming you as her own with a series of marks you’ll have to find a way to cover in the morning.

You hiss as her warm tongue slides over the sensitive peak of your hardened bud, earning a grin from the woman above you. Her mouth moves lower and lower, inch by inch, an agonizing journey of open-mouthed kisses down your ribcage, stomach, hip bones, leaving a trail of red lipstick smudges and purple hickeys. Your back arches into the sensation, chest heaving.

Larissa slows when she reaches your thighs, hands coming to rest on your hips and gently tugging at the cotton covering what she has been longing to stake her claim on.

“Hips up,” she instructs and you oblige, allowing Larissa to pull your panties down your legs and toss them unceremoniously across the room.

Larissa stifles a groan when her eyes meet your pussy. You begin to push your thighs together subconsciously but Larissa’s hands stop you, spreading your legs. 

“Don’t be shy, darling,” she coos, pressing her lips to your inner thigh, and you feel yourself drip at the action. “Look at that pretty little cunt, so ready for me.”

The coil behind your navel tightens as Larissa’s kisses come closer to your core, until - finally - her lips make contact with your center. Her tongue traces a path through your folds, from your entrance to your clit, gathering your juices in her mouth. She moans at this first taste of you, you taste even better than she could have imagined. The scent of your arousal floods her senses and spurs her on as she begins to lap your pussy, enjoying the unfiltered moans that are escaping your lips. 

“Fuck- Larissa,” you moan as Larissa’s tongue begins to circle your bundle of nerves. Your knuckles are white as you grasp desperately at the sheets, head tilted back in pleasure. You spread your legs wider, arching your back and rocking your hips into her mouth.

“Look at me,” Larissa demands. You force your eyes to meet hers, both of your pupils blown with desire. Larissa has never looked sexier, her lipstick smudged, chest heaving. Your juices glisten on her chin and the sight brings a blush to your cheeks. “Who do you belong to?”

The question alone nearly snaps the hot coil in your stomach, goosebumps erupting all over your body. You’re so desperately turned on by her.

“You.” The answer comes out in a breathed whisper, your hips twitch wantonly toward Larissa, you need her again. She takes your sensitive bud in her mouth, sucking gently. The vibration of her moans against your pussy have you bucking your hips up, desperate to get more friction, when you feel nimble fingers trace lazy patterns at your entrance. 

“Fuck, Larissa, I need more,” you mewl, your hands coming up to rest on the back of Larissa’s head, pushing her closer to your dripping cunt. Larissa hums and you can feel her smile as she pushes two fingers inside of you, beginning a slow, steady pace. Your nails scratch at her scalp as you ride her face, pushing your hips forward to take her fingers deeper.

“Yes, right there, right- ahh- Larissa!” Larissa makes note of every sound coming from your mouth, how your body responds to every touch, enjoying how she’s able to make you come undone. She’s drunk on the feeling of you, the smell of you, the sound of you. So innocent, so sweet - moaning above her, screaming her name in a moment of pure desire. Knowing she’s the one to be able to give you this experience. 

Your thighs begin to tremble as Larissa’s fingers curl inside of you, drawing a strangled moan from your lips as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm. Larissa’s tongue sucks at your clit, her fingers increasing their pace, your legs shaking as the coil in your belly snaps, rocking your hips into Larissa’s face as you ride out your high. 

She flattens her tongue against your cunt and laps up the juices flowing from you with a satisfied hum, coming up to lay beside you and latching her lips onto yours, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. 

“You did so well for me, love,” she whispers, caressing your cheek. “Do you need anything? Water? Do you want me to clean you up?”

You appreciate the sentiment but the thought of stopping without being able to worship the goddess in front of you is disappointing. You hesitate a moment before reaching behind Larissa’s back and stopping your fingers at the clasp of her lacy bra. She’s watching you curiously and her breath hitches audibly at the touch of your fingers.

“May I?” Larissa nods, cheeks pink and pupils wide and you know you’ve never seen anyone more adorable or sexy. You undo the clasp of her bra and a moment later, your hands are on her matching panties and she’s helping you tug them down her legs. 

“Show me what you like.” You need to know how to worship her right. Larissa whines, bringing her hand between her legs. She props up her leg so that you have a perfect view of her glistening cunt, absolutely drenched only for you. You can feel yourself getting wet again, your own cum pooling between your legs and dripping down your thighs. Your gaze is fixated on Larissa’s long fingers as they run through the length of her own folds to coat themselves in her slick. She reaches her clit, allowing her head to fall back as her fingers draw languid circles over the sensitive nub. 

A groan falls from your lips and Larissa’s sapphire eyes meet yours. She stops pleasuring herself and instead her fingers circle your wrist, gently guiding your hand to her center. She mewls as you tease her entrance, allowing her legs to fall open and pushing her hips towards you in a desperate attempt to get you closer, growing impatient with need.

You dip two fingers into her center, pushing gently, watching in amazement as Larissa’s eyelids flutter shut, her mouth parting to let out breathy groans of affirmation as you bring your thumb to her swollen bundle of nerves.

The moans she lets out begin to get filthier and filthier as you pick up your pace, eyes trained on her core.

“Does this feel good?” 

“So, so good, Y/N,” Larissa groans, eyes rolling back in her head as your fingers find the spongy spot inside of her. “Deeper - right there, just like that.”

Larissa grasps forward to weave her hands around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. Her tongue moves against yours, her breathing hot and needy. She whines into your mouth as your fingers pump in and out of her, and her fingers find purchase in your hair, curling themselves in your tresses and pulling back gently.

Your eyes are wide with lust as Larissa’s arousal drips down your fingers, a pitiful moan falling from your lips as you feel Larissa begin to clench around your fingers as if trying to keep you there. Throwing caution to the wind, you add a third finger, eliciting a delicious gasp from the woman in front of you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come!” Larissa’s thighs begin to shake, hips thrusting up erratically to meet your fingers which are knuckle deep in her cunt, stretching her out, curling into her sweet spot. You watch in awe as Larissa slowly comes undone, her fingers tightening their grip in your hair as she shudders against you, her essence leaking out of her center.

Not breaking eye contact, you bring your fingers to your mouth to suck them clean, moaning at the taste of Larissa on your tongue. You have never tasted anything so divine. Larissa crawls over to you and sinks back onto the pillows with a sigh, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Come,” Larissa whispers softly, and you allow her to wrap her arms around you. You relish the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, enjoying the warmth of her bare skin. Her fingers trace the bruised marks she’d made with her mouth, her touch light as a feather. She entwines her long legs with yours, rubbing your calves together gently. 

She allows you to bury your head in her neck and you breathe in the scent of her, sweat mingling with musky perfume and the smell of her sheets. 

“You did so well for me, my sweet one. Thank you for trusting me,” Larissa coos, rocking you against her, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Larissa ducks her head down, her breath on your cheek causing you to shiver pleasantly as she whispers her next words. “You are mine, darling. Only mine.”

“I am yours,” you whisper back sleepily, the adoration in your gaze mirroring her own as you snuggle into her chest, sighing contentedly. The pads of Larissa’s fingers stroke up and down your arms as she waits for your breathing to even out before allowing herself to follow suit, thinking to herself that she would gladly spend every night like this with your head on her chest and your legs tangled in hers. Your words echo in her head as she drifts off to sleep - you are hers.

[armins-main-hoe]

Todoroki’s Twin au

Pt.5

Your sister’s food was tasty as always, it had been a while since you last ate her food after moving into the school dorms. Had the atmosphere not been so awkward for you, you would have a warm smile on your face while you enjoyed each bite of the food. You sat between your two older siblings with Midoriya sitting opposite you. You would look over at your father every now and then, he has a neutral expression, it was softer than you mostly see from him. Looks like he is trying to be better, though you aren’t so sure if being better now would fix anything.   There was some small talk here and there, but you were mostly zoning out, eating the food without even realising it.  

“How is your internship going Y/n?” You heard your father speak up. His voice was thick and stern, however, there was no doubt that it was softer than it usually was.  

You look up from your food, lowering your chopsticks as you looked over at him. Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “It’s going well.” You replied simply, not going into much detail. In all honesty, you didn’t feel like talking much tonight. First of all, you were tired from patrolling all day, secondly, you were regretting coming over to this family dinner because of how awkward it was getting. If only you could speed time up and get this whole thing over with.  

“You should come and join my agency-”

“I’m good, thanks.” You didn’t even let him finish his sentence. You knew Midoriya and Bakugo were struggling to swallow their food with the thick tension growing. Fuyumi nudged your side, but you ignored her. You knew your father was only saying all that as a formality, he didn’t actually mean it. You know that he is perfectly happy with the three boys as his interns. Sure, perhaps he’d rather not have the other two but since he has Shoto as his intern, he doesn’t mind.  

“I understand you do not like me, but you would be better off learning from a higher-ranking pro than-”  

“I said I’m good. Is that so hard to understand?” Your voice strained a little as you tried not to raise it too much, after all you had guests over.  

A few beats of silence followed after. Great now not only is it awkward but you’re the reason for it. You picked up your plate and utensils and got up.  

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna leave early.” You muttered as you walked out of the living room.  

“But it’s late, you can’t go back alone-” You heard your older sister calling after you, but you were too caught up in the downing thoughts in your head to even register what she was saying. Going back to the kitchen, you quickly washed your plate and got your bag and coat, leaving the house before anyone could call out after you. As you were on your way out, you walked past your old room. The door was slightly open, but you walked straight past it anyway.  

The sun had already settled an hour ago so when you looked up at the sky, you could see the stars littered in the dark sky. You knew how to get back to school, it was a few trains stops away. If you walk a little quicker, you might make it in time for the next train, then you can go to your dorm room and finally get this day over with.  

Your mind was still flooded with that family dinner, you bet their all just laughing awkwardly and acting like everything is fine. Why does your father even bother at this point? Why bother making things better now when the damage is already done? Is so obvious he prefers Shoto over you so there is no need for him to be all ‘you should come over to my agency’, like hell you would ever join his agency.  

Had he given you this offer a year ago you’d be jumping with excitement and saying yes quicker than you could breathe. You’d be thinking that you’re father finally sees you as worthy, finally doesn’t see you as an extra child that came along with Shoto. However, he asked you now. He asked you when you know he’s only asking out of formality, out of his efforts on looking like a better father not because he actually sees you for what your worth is.  

Ugh, this is all so frustrating. So stupid. So, tiring. Why couldn’t you have been born into some other family? Why this one? Why do you have to go through all this, were you really that bad in your past life?  

“Well, would you look at that. Another one of Endeavour’s mistakes.” A dry, croaky voice spoke out of nowhere. You snapped out of your thoughts and started looking around for where the voice came from.  

“It’s pitiful. Really. I mean, just look at you.” The voice spoke again, this time you followed the direction it came from, it came from an alleyway you were walking past. Great. You decided to keep walking back to the station, but you got dragged into the dark alleyway by a rather strong hand.  

Your heart started beating quicker, you face went cold. You can’t see anything so you can’t fight whoever it is because you don’t know where they are. You should escape, but you can’t. You can’t move your hands or legs. It’s like your body won’t listen to you.  

You’re a hero in training, get a grip!  

“Your little retaliation against your father was cute. Did nothing to actually affect him though.” The voice spoke again. The voice was dry and croaky, as if it was worn out. 

You heard a matchstick be lit and soon a small lamp was lit. It was only now that you could put a face to that voice. Your breath was taken away when you saw who. You knew him, not very well but you’ve seen his face enough times to know that he’s from the league of villains, just you forgot his name-

“Tell me, are you really being a hero because that’s your dream? Or is it just to prove to your father than you are better?”  

What the fuck? Why is he talking like he knows so much about you. Your eyes moved around, and you saw a few other members of the league with him at the back, all smiling menacingly at you. The villain that was talking to you had parts of his skin turned purple, with metal that looked like staples holding his skin together. He towered over you, smiling at you just like the other villains around him. Wiat, you’ve definitely seen this guy before.

“Let go!” You ignored his question and struggled against your invisible restraints.  

You could hear the villains at the back snicker and mock you as you tried to escape.  

“No use trying to run away. Now answer my question.” The villain who towered over you asked.  

You kept struggling against the force keeping your body still.  

“You’re breath stinks!” You shouted at him before you finally felt your body move. As soon as he knew you were free, he activated his quirk, creating blue flames in his palms which you put out by shooting water at him.  

“Ah, right. You have that as your quirk, how annoying.” You heard him mumble as he continued dodging all your attacks.  

“Don’t think your plan is gonna work Dabi. I’m leaving.” A villain at the back spoke before others hummed in agreement. You still kept your eyes on Dabi, making your quirk work faster to increase the pressure of water shooting out of your palms so that it leaves a mark upon impact. You did manage to land quite a few blows on him before his entire body turned into muddy goo, pooling around your feet.

“He was a fake.” You spoke to yourself. Looking back up, you see that all the other villains had already left. Your feet wobbled a little as you took steps back until your back hit the wall. Chest rising up and down, taking slow deep breaths as thoughts of the family dinner were replaced with questions of what just happened.  

That villain kept asking you questions. Kept questioning your reasoning to be a hero. He asked if you wanted to be a hero to prove to your father that you are better. Better than Shoto? Wait, how does that villain know that much? Who is he? Why did he ask all that? Why did he not hurt you when he clearly had the upper hand? What were his motives?  

Minutes pass by before you managed to calm down and continue going back to school. On your way back all you could think of now was that sudden villain attack. Well, it wasn’t really an attack, at least not a grand one. It was almost like they were trying to make you come with them, willingly. When Bakugo was captured by the league of villains, they were forcing him to join them. It’s not like they had given you much of a choice either, but they were much more relaxed and were not worried about you getting away, they gave you chances to fight back.  

Why would they do that?

“Um... Y/n? You good?”  

You look up and see mina standing in front of you. Wait, you got back to the dorms already? Did you zone out the whole way back?

“You just came back pretty late; you weren’t replying to anything anyone was saying.” She told you, tilting her head a little in worry.  

“Oh...” You blinked. You looked around and saw a few other classmates in the living room, all looking at you confused or worried. “I’m okay...”  

“Are you sure about that?” Mina spoke up again.  

“Yeah.” You nod.  

Neither Mina nor anyone else looked convinced.  

“It’s just that I saw dabi on the way back and-”

“You WHAT?”  

---

Laying on your bed in your dorm room was supposed to be comfortable. It was supposed to help lull you to sleep, after all, you were longing to lay in bed throughout the entire family dinner.  So, you eventually gave up on the idea of sleeping and got up to go to the balcony attached to your dorm room. The air was cold, but it was comforting in a way, not many stars were in the sky, but you could still point out a few. It was rather late so you doubt anyone would be up to keep you company.

“Gods damn it all.”

Or maybe there is.

You look down and see everyone’s favourite blonde standing up after tripping over. You use your water quirk to create water slide, made out of water, to quickly get to him, though that did mean your clothes got wet, probably should have thought that through.

“The fuck is you doing up so late?” Bakugo asked, a little startled to see you behind him but he covers it up with a frown.

“Couldn’t sleep and then I saw you trip.”

“I didn’t trip, and I am not going to be a source of entertainment for you.”

“Why are you still awake?”

His shoulders tensed up a little.

“None of your damn business you dumb mermaid.”

“Mermaid?”

“Yeah, a dumb one.” Bakugo scoffed. You shrugged and squeezed out some of the water from your top. You saw him roll his eyes and start walking away, you knew it would piss him off if you followed him, so you started following him.  

“You idiot, why are you following me around? Go away.”  

“Where are you going?”  

“Like I said before, none of your business.”  

“What happened after I left?”  

That made him stop. He turned around and looked down at you with a smaller scowl on his face.  

“Oh yeah, what’s up with you and your dad? I know your brother’s story, but I never understood yours.”  

You raised an eyebrow. “You... actually want to know?”  

“Don’t get the wrong idea, mermaid. I’m not into knowing about everyone’s family drama but after having been put through that hell of a dinner, I think I deserve to know.”  

Before you knew it, you and Bakugo were sitting under a tree that was at that behind the dormitory, talking about your whole past.  

“I often switch the person I blame for everything, going through all of my family members and then blaming myself too. I know my father has a major role to play in everything, he probably is the cause of it all, but I still find myself being so competitive with Shoto, even though I tell myself I don’t need my father’s approval for anything. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing, one day I think this and another I’ll think that.”  

“Well, that sucks ass but I’m not your therapist so I’m not gonna say shit.” He leaned his head back on the tree.  

“Weren’t you the one who asked to know-”

“You’ve got too much sea water in your dumb ears, mermaid.” He stood up. “Stick to focusing on yourself though. Sure, family matters and all but for now just focus on yourself.”  

You blinked at him. “Maybe I do have water in my ears because there is no way you just said that.”  

You heard him scoff again, he walked over to you and crouched down beside you.  

“You’re feisty and somewhat more tolerable than your brother. Now if anyone and I mean anyone, finds out about us hanging out here, I’ll kill you. Got it.”  

You let you a quick breath through your nose as a laugh and shrugged, “Sure.”  

He ruffled your hair, albeit harshly and messing up your hair, before walking away. You never thought you would ever rant and trauma dump to Bakugo fucking Katsuki, but it seems life is full of surprises lately.

Wait. Why was he up and out of his dorm in the first place? He usually goes to sleep so early. Wait, where did he go? Wasn’t he right there a minute ago? 

[yokohamapound]

HIHIHI

Can I request Chuuya and kunikida with a s/o who likes to braid or style their hair??🤭 I LOVE YOUR ACCOUNT SM HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY(or night!!)

How did you know long-haired pretty boys are my weakness? :D

Characters: Kunikida Doppo, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: gn!reader, brushy-brushy

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida’s got an interesting style of hair, considering the amount of time and effort he puts into making sure he looks neat and clean all the time. You would think a long underside to his hair would be impractical, but he makes it work. 

I don’t think it’s in his list of attributes for an ideal spouse to enjoy brushing and styling his hair for him, but he was certainly pleasantly surprised the first time you approached him with a brush and a glint in your eye.

He’s so tall he has to sit on a chair while you stand behind him. He sits down patiently, resting his hands on his knees. Kunikida looks almost meditative as you tug the hairtie free and spread his hair across his shoulders. 

Kunikida closes his eyes as you work the comb through his hair, running your fingers after it. Not only does it feel good, it manages to slow his ever-marching thoughts down to a stroll.

He might be in constant pursuit of his ideals, but he knows when to stop and appreciate a moment. You taking time out of your day to lavish a little bit of care on him is definitely worth savouring. 

Because most of his hair is short, you’ll be somewhat limited in what you can do with it. You can mostly braid the long strands or put them in a ponytail, but he will dutifully wear whatever style you choose for him that day.

I’m afraid he may object to wearing hairclips. 

He likes those springy, phone-cord ties since they don’t pull on his hair, and the poor, gullible fool has worn a scrunchie to the office at your behest a few times. Dazai was most amused. 

Kunikida: “Shows what you know, Dazai. It decreases the risk of traction baldness in men.”

Dazai: “It also makes you look totally rad!” 

Nakahara Chuuya

Okay, you only need to take one look at Chuuya to realise he’s fussy about his hair. His style is…complicated, to say the least. As with the rest of his style, he’s definitely cultivated it to go along with his look. 

He puts up a couple of token complaints the first time you start trying to brush his hair, but it doesn’t take him long to realise he enjoys it. The feeling of your fingers running across his scalp is damn near enough to send him falling asleep. 

Chuuya does feel a little twitchy about you sitting behind him. Not because he doesn’t trust you—it’s those hard-earned street rat/mafioso instincts, but he gets over it. 

Sorry, you won’t be putting any cute bobbles or barrettes in his hair, but you might get away with a couple of black bobby pins here and there. He might not even notice if they’re round the back. 

He used to tie his hair in a little ponytail at the nape of his neck but I’m happy to tell you he also looks great with a high ponytail. Although he does wonder why so many people are staring at his neck now—is his choker crooked? Sadly, he won’t wear it for long because it interferes with his hat. 

Yeah, he’ll let you braid the long bit that falls over his shoulder, and he’ll punch the lights out of anyone who has anything to say about it. 

Expect lots of sarcastic comments, though.

“What am, your stylin’ head?”

“If you pull it, I’m smackin’ your ass with the brush, dollface.”

[slowandsteddie]

"It doesn't matter, it was never going to matter."

Thank you for this starter! The words really flew off my fingers for this one.

CW: mentions of previous abuse, Steve being worried it’s going to happen again, Steve not realizing what he’s worth or how his friends feel about him because they never actually tell him, PTSD, lots of hurt before the comfort, let me know if I missed anything

Other notes: Eddie finds out about the Upside Down a lot sooner in this one, though it is kind of open ended as to when.

619 words.

Sorry it’s on the shorter side, it made me cry.

(I feel like) I don’t matter

“It doesn’t matter, it was never going to matter.”

Steve’s chest was heaving, he felt like he was going to throw up. He hated fights and everything that went with them.

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Eddie snapped.

The younger male flinched and took a step back without fully realizing. His hands clenched by his sides, his thumbs cradled by the rest of his fingers. He wasn’t going to throw a punch, it was just a soothing thing to him. Something he had done ever since the first time he was yelled at and his instinct to plop his thumb in his mouth got him beaten up pretty severely; five was too old to be thumb sucking.

“Stevie?” Eddie’s voice was so much softer.

“You’re going on tour and I’m staying here, Eddie. So why does it matter how I feel about you? You’re going to make it big and forget about me. I’m just going to be stuck here, terrified that the monsters are going to come back and I’m going to be the only one who knows how to help the shitheads who always seem to be right in the middle of it.”

And, that’s what it boiled down to. Everyone always left him. He stayed behind to keep people safe, and when they no longer needed him…

“Oh, Steve.” Eddie’s voice broke. “I’d never forget about you.”

“Why? Because I saved your life? I’d do that for anyone.”

“Steve, stop. Just stop being so defensive. Please.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’m just supposed to be all muscle and no emotion. Ever. Sorry I forgot.”

When Eddie reached out, Steve flinched again before turning and walking away. He knew he was being followed and that only made him feel sicker. Suddenly, he spun around.

“If you’re going to hit me, just do it so whatever this is can stop. So you can go back to your band and laugh about how you made me cry.”

“I-is… is that what you really think of me?”

“What I think doesn’t matter. It never matters. Just get it over with and leave me alone.”

Steve made no effort to hide the fact that he was crying. Eddie closed the distance between them and he closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the ringed fist that would connect with his face. Suddenly, there were warm hands cupping his face and he gasped softly in surprise.

Oh.

Callused thumbs gently wiped his tears away, and his eyes slowly opened again. Eddie’s face was so much closer than he expected. Those doe brown eyes were utterly captivating and Steve was so confused.

“Why?” He asked stupidly.

He should be grateful that he wasn’t on the ground, holding his face. He shouldn’t bring attention to the fact that he hasn’t been hit yet because the older male could always change his mind.

“You are so utterly kind and brave and helplessly dense, big boy.”

Eddie’s breath smelled like cigarettes and mint and it was a struggle to not breathe deeper or lean in closer.

“W-what?”

“You can’t see your worth. You have no idea how important that you are. And it’s not even because you can swing a bat when someone’s in trouble. You give so much, expecting nothing in return.”

“I mean, apparently I expect to be punched in an argument.”

“Did you want to be?” Eddie asked so softly.

“No?”

Eddie looked over Steve’s face and apparently he saw what he was looking for because he leaned in and pressed their lips together. It was effortless for Steve to melt into him and return the kiss.

Which, that did answer Eddie’s original question: do you like me, too, Harrington?

[a-student-out-of-time]

Hi. You don’t need to respond to this ask, I just wanted to say this. The recent couple of asks have really solidified this for me. While I’m alright with mental health being a very large focus of this story, in fact I’m very happy about it…I’m worried about certain terms that have become watered down buzz words within it. Like the Self-Pity thing. I feel like that it’s just been used whenever a character, particularly characters such as Haijime or Chiaki, feels bad about a situation, like the last couple of asks. Being upset about something bad happening (like killing someone, even a terrible person) and feeling bad about a situation is a pretty normal response. And I’m just worried about people just throwing it around at upset characters, as well as other mental health related issues. While I agree that characters need therapy, and discussion of different mental health issues is important, I don’t want people getting the wrong idea about these sorts of things. If I’m being honest, after learning more about self pity from this blog’s definition of it being, at least in my eyes, a bad thing with no good sides to it, it just made me feel worse, because any time I felt bad about what I was going through, I though I was being selfish and awful by pitying myself, which made my self esteem take a drop . I know this wasn’t your intention, but I just wanted to say something about my experience. I’m sorry. Thank you if you read all of this.

//Hey there, thank you for reaching out and bringing this to my attention.

//I just wanted to be as clear as I can be on this: everything I've said about self-pity in this story is not simply about feeling bad or guilty about your actions, because that's a perfectly normal thing to do.

//What we've discussed here is when self-pity becomes so overwhelming and self-destructive that it causes harm to others in the process. When you deny others any sort of emotional connection, dismiss them because you don't feel worthy of their efforts to help you, it not only denies you the ability to grow as a person, it also hurts the people trying to help you.

//It especially becomes a problem when you get trapped in a cycle of self-hatred, where you become so convinced that you're not worth anyone's attention that you can give people the impression that their feelings don't matter to you, which can then contribute to the cycle. When you hate yourself, it hurts others in the process, no matter what you may say or do.

//And besides, good friends and family don't ever want you to hate yourself in the first place. When you dump on yourself or try to become an emotional martyr, it doesn't make the suffering in the world go down. Mental wellness is not a zero sum game.

//I write about this stuff because these are my experiences with depression. I did these things way too much and I wound up hurting people I care about, including someone I was in a relationship with at the time. It took them telling me to, in a very loving and constructive manner, get my shit together so I could break out of this negative way of viewing myself. I had to completely change my way of thinking, and while I have bad days still, it really did help me a lot.

//You can never keep your own pain completely internal; it'll always reach out and affect other people, but you have the power to keep it under control and not let it convince you to ruin the good things you have. A big part of that is surrounding yourself with people who understand and who'll help you out whenever you need it.

//But I understand that my experiences are not universal and maybe my word choices have been poor. I sincerely apologize if I've given anyone the wrong impression about what the goal of this theme is. This was never about the idea that being down on yourself at all is bad, because sadness and guilt are an integral part of the human experience.

//The lesson is that it's important not to become so sad or so guilty that you convince yourself that you're unworthy of other people's love, because truly no good comes out of that.

//I hope you have a good day, anon. Thank you for reaching out.

[axel-skz]

It was the Tour I won’t forget…

Stray kids x reader

Perm taglist: @sunshinebarbie @bunnychangbin @3rachasninja @fairyofshampoo67

It gave you so much joy that today is finally here. It took too long. The nights had been unbearably lonely. But those thoughts weren’t important now.

He’s coming back today.

You had been checking the phone and looking at the time as if staring could make it go faster. Sitting here on basically the edge of your seat for so many hours, it felt like your legs were numb.

That was all well and good… until you got the text…

A text that would break your heart. One that couldn’t be anticipated. An event no one could control. Yet in the deepest part of your mind… you blamed him.

Because it hurt.

He had been on tour for 3 months. It had been painful to have only 10% of his attention on a good day. But it was good for his career and you of course knew this would happen before this relationship had started.

So you didn’t complain.

The tears were kept in until the very short calls came to an end. The bad news being withheld because he probably had problems of his own. The accidents and the scrapes left un kissed and hidden away because he would worry.

All of it done with all the effort you had in you because the day was ever so slowly approaching. He would return. And he would return so proud of you because you had been so supportive.

It didn’t come.

The text read, ‘I’ll call you later, but guess what?!’

At this point, you were excited, he was supposed to be landing as this text came.

‘WE ADDED A FEW MORE STOPS ON THE TOUR!!!’

Your heart, one that was barely holding on, had now been broken. Pieces falling away and letting out a cry that had been kept inside for god knows how long.

You sobbed.

It felt a little… dramatic… stupid too… how could someone be so dependent on another person…

But at the same time… the love you had for him was something that hadn’t been felt before. It was a scary feeling. It never haunted you though because if anyone was worth the risk, it was him.

It didn’t feel that way at this moment. This was when the darkest part of our minds become active.

It felt like he was deliberately staying away from you. Like maybe he found someone else. The world was at his fingertips and everything became clear. It was too beautiful and too exciting to be cooped up here with you. He requested the tour be made longer while he thought up a reason… not to come back… because of you…

It felt like the spiral had lasted hours. Horrible thoughts in your head taking all attention from anything rational.

You almost missed his text 15 minutes later. He was going to call soon and explain everything properly.

Explain… Explain?! How does anything make this okay?! Is there something that makes all this make sense?! And what frame of time was ‘soon’? What the hell does ‘call soon’ even mean?

You’re sat waiting for about 2 hours before he called.

‘Heyy!’

‘Hi’

‘God, Y/N… I can’t even explain how excited I am-’ he rambled on but you weren’t hearing any of it. You couldn’t get past your anger and frustration.

‘Do you not miss me at all?’ It was a sudden question and he seemed shocked, not answering right away.

‘I do miss you… so so much… but this is huge… non of us could’ve seen this level of an accomplishment coming. There’s so much more left to do.’

‘It’s been 3 months…’

‘I’m sorry but I don’t see why you can’t be supportive. I spent so much time trying to call you while we have been here. I did everything I could to talk to you. I don’t make the schedules but this is also a dream of mine. You know this.’

‘What?! Are you seriously doing this to my right now?! You have been away, for 3 freaking months!! I didn’t complain at all! I got up in the middle of the night just so I could call you!’

‘Yeah but I didn’t make you do that! I appreciate it but I never wanted or asked for you to do all this for me!’

‘Are you kidding me right now? You’re actually being serious… you don’t see anything wrong with what you just said?’

‘I even offered to bring you here with me. You declined. It’s not my fault.’

‘…I… wow… there’s no words… I never thought that you of all people would ever be the one to make me feel this way…’

‘I’m not trying to hurt you… you know I love you so much… but my career is important… I was so happy about this… now…’

‘Oh yeah… okay… I ruined it. That’s what you were gonna say? It’s fine. I’ll go. You enjoy this with the people you care so much about,’ you dropped the call.

[finniestoncrane]

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 28: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 850 we are reaching critical levels of shitty behaviour from eddie, also just a short one this week, sorry! 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: angst, so angsty, the most pining angst ever

“Why are you so interested!? Huh? Why do you care?”

You tossed down the hammer with a loud clang, watching it bounce on the table slightly in your peripheral. Eddie was shocked into silence, only momentarily, his seemingly never-ending barrage of questions pertaining to who you might have moved on with finally stopped.

“Because... Because…”

He elongated the last word, stretching it out as he stalled, trying to think of an appropriate answer, since the truth was the last thing he was prepared to admit to.

“I think you will find I don’t care. But I just want to… make sure that we don’t have a repeat of last time.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know very well. Your dalliances with your lovers causing havoc? Bringing the enemy to my front door? I would just like to be certain that nothing is in danger, and there’s no chance of you ruining all of my hard work with your unchecked libido.”

With your mouth open, ready to unleash your anger at him, you were interrupted by him again. He lifted his hands up, shaking his head with an irritatingly nonchalant expression on his face, trying to gain the upper hand by seeming as though he were being entirely reasonable.

“Now, now. No need to be upset. I am merely speaking the truth. See, the unexamined life is not worth living, and I have been wondering lately why you aggravate me so. And it is because you are careless. A dilettante, a purveyor of my works, masquerading amongst your intellectual betters. Me.”

He waited for your retort, but you were so blinded by rage at his words that you couldn’t yet speak, so he took it upon himself to fill the uncomfortable silence, only digging a bigger hole. Part of his brain, and all of his heart, screamed at him to stop. But his ego, his inability to confess or face his feelings, pushed him to drive the wedge further.

“It’s just that you are stupid. And the person you are seeing is also, most likely, stupid. I just want to know what kind of danger I’m in before-”

“Fuck! Eddie!”

The silence was deafening. Once he had recovered from the scare, his whole body flinching at the volume of your words, he stood perfectly still, eyes wide. Your chest heaved as you panted, deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, a futile effort. You were filled with emotion. Anger, hurt, love. And they needed to come out.

“I’m not with anyone! I haven’t ever really been with anyone since I came down here. I wasn’t with Mark. I’m not with anyone now you… fucking moron!”

Eddie opened his mouth to say something but you took a step closer to him, raising your hand. Surprisingly, he took the command and closed his lips, letting you continue what he could only assume was going to become a tirade.

“You’re right though. I am an idiot. Because I have spent so long, so much wasted time, literally worshipping you. And you know that. You know why I came here. You know why I wanted to work for you. Even before I did your stupid interview, you knew. I was willing to do anything for you. Willing to worship you. And I literally do now, since I spend more time at your feet, begging for a shred of compassion, rather than as your equal. But no one is worth you, are they? Not in your mind.”

Dejected, hurt by your own words, spoken out loud and therefore more real than they were when you thought them over compulsively, obsessively, as you lay in your bed.

“I’ve dedicated myself to you, Eddie. For so long.”

Eddie tried to remain still, but his stomach shifted so violently that he couldn’t help but wince. He was in physical pain at the sight of you, at your outpouring. It all felt very real, and unsolvable. Irreparable. It was possible that there was no going back from this point forward. Whatever he did now, it would be his last chance. His only opportunity to make some kind of effort, to seal his fate. Whichever way he chose to let it fall.

His heart rate increased as you moved closer to him again, his pupils dilating as he caught your eyes, focusing on them, intense. There was a heat between you both, one that tortured him. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. His brain couldn’t catch up with itself, and his body, his mouth, had no chance of figuring it out on its own.

“It’s you, Eddie. It’s always been you. It’s fucking… pathetic. But it has been.”

In complete shock at the statement, the raw emotion behind it, Eddie was taken completely aback. There was only one word that made it’s way through the cloud of fog in his mind, down to his trembling lips, and he whispered it so quietly that it was almost impossible for you to hear it. But you did.

“Sorry.”

Brushing past you with no further words, and not even a look, Eddie left you standing in the workshop alone.

[monstersandmaw]

i saw your post about feeling like it isn't worth it to write cuz of reblogs lacking etc and wanted to let you know that even if they're not interacting with it, somebody out there saw it and enjoyed it, or even needed it.

i feel a bit bad for dragging my feet on this, am sorri, but i wanted to say thank you for your writing, the way you build up your little worlds and scenes and characters, and fill them with this genuine little warm and cozy feeling that you can just curl up in. (and pull off plot beats and subtle hints like a pro. :})

because i stumbled across your stories when i was at a severe low point, trying to patch myself up mentally after an abusive mess. and your stories, your writing, all the warmth and coziness and genuineness and just how sweet and intimate you craft relationships- it helped. deeply. it helped remind me what a good healthy and loving relationship looks like, what i should look up to and gauge a future one on, what i shouldn't bend on just because someone doesn't like it - and yes, i know, you're not the sole arbiter of relationship standards, please don't worry - but it still helped so much then. it reminded me that the hell i went though wasn't normal, wasn't on me, and i kept going thru your stories to remind me on the worse days. and those bad days kept coming less, because reminding me eventually gave me a small little constant flame of understanding and hope and relief with all this. and so your writing means and represents so fucking much to me. so thank you. so much.

obviously one person's experience doesn't make up for that work-to-appreciation ratio, or even a tiny number. but i hope knowing that for someone, (maybe even many someones), your writing represents more than just regular reading fodder- helps lessen the feeling of writing not being worth it for you. even if it's a tiny tiny bit.

I don’t have enough words for how lovely and kind (and brave) this is of you, Anon. Thank you.

I never mean to guilt trip people into reblogging, and only ever mean it as a general rule to encourage people who don’t know or aren’t sure about the etiquette, or to remind people who just comment ‘more pls’ without any other effort/nuance.

For those like this sweet Anon who don’t have the spoons or the energy or the time or whatever, you absolutely carry on as you are. It’s always so hard making posts which try to get people fired up about reblogging because I know it’s also going to look like I’m pressuring the quieter folk to do something they’re not comfortable with etc.

Know that at the heart of it, you’re all welcome here, whether you’re lurking and chilling out, or reblogging left right and centre.

Thank you for taking the time and effort out of your day to reassure me with this, Anon, and I hope you know you’re as treasured and valued as anyone else who contributes to this community simply by being here with us to enjoy all the creations people share.

Take good care of yourself, and goodnight from a very warm room somewhere in the south of England :). 👻💤

[kelin-is-writing]

ok - thought

i think most people agree that dabi doesn't like the concept of marriage for obvious reasons and he never thought that he of all people would ever get married or even feel the need to

but then you show up and poor baby is hooked

he can't even imagine spending a single second without you and he tries to convince himself that marriage can work - that he can make it work

but he's terrified regardless because what if he turns out like his dad? what if he ends up hurting you somehow? he wouldn't want you to feel trapped with him but something about being able to call you truly his makes him think it might be worth the risk

so - question

do you think dabi would ever get married or even find the courage to propose? and in case he decides against it what would happen if you propose instead?

- 🥛

i’m sorry for the late answer milk, it’s just that since i got this ask i’ve been thinking about it nonstop. i took breaks from time to time to do things, but hell this ask kept haunting me because damn... this is such a good question honestly.

NOW, onto the answer.

i think that for a proposal to happen there’s gotta be an effort from both sides.

to be able to accept the idea of marriage, dabi first needs to realize his worth after that sorry ass father that he had crushed every single amount of self-love that was inside of little touya, this is something only you can help him with.

how? be genuine with him, never hold an ulterior motive when speaking to someone who has trust issues, because that way you’ll only make them close-up into themselves even more than they already were. if you’re genuine, sincere and warm with him someone like dabi who has never had something of that sort will slowly and naturally start lean into you feeling more at easy, without the need for him to always be on guard and ready to get hurt. because if it happened once, it can very well a second time and by not letting you into his heart (that he thought would be unbothered as of now, he was wrong) dabi is already putting up a defensive mechanism to prevent anything and anyone from getting close to him.

he’s actually someone who’s very sensitive and emotional for me who feels things a lot more than some other peoples, yes even as dabi (i mean, if he didn’t then how do you explain his flames bursting at sekoto peak?), he has also spent lot of time watching others over the years he spent alone and reading someone for him is basically a piece of cake as of now, so his wary attitude towards others intentions makes him very observant on their actions and if he sees something off about you, what you say or do, dabi is gonna distance himself right away; he’s done being hurt.

but (there’s always gotta be a “but...”) the moment he's at the start of opening up to you and letting his guard lower a tad bit, he’s panicking right away of you because what if he disappoints you or lets you down? what if you start ignoring him? what if you end up hating him?

shit he’s in fucking trouble now, because he’s already starting to think that a future with you might actually be not so bad but also... possible?

this is when dabi realizes that he has been lowering his guard as you two kept spending time together, it’s just that... your genuineness and sincerity were so blinding, so welcoming, so comforting, so reassuring, that he mindlessly had gave into them.

he truly thinks that he doesn’t deserve you, you’re too good. a gem, a rare and precious one.

it was seriously a tragedy for him, because now that he realized how he did want a future with you, along with it has also come more and more the fear of becoming like his father.

only the thought of such a thing makes dabi gag in disgust.

this is essentially why he has never dared bring up marriage, things were fine as they were right now for the moment.

if it were for dabi, he would marry you on the spot but as of now he’s too much of a coward to even just mention it, at least not until he has settled what he has to set and grow out of his father’s shadow that was forced upon him from the scumbag himself since a young age.

he knows what are the thing his father did wrong so he can very well avoid them since he’s smart, but he’s also greedy and ambitious... so what if he unintentionally repeats that man’s mistakes? he would hate that and himself.

but you know the say that goes, the more time you spend with someone the more you become like them? you’re such a good damn influence to him and his life, even the league has noticed it by the way he has started to behave with them and this has started to make him more confident that: yes, he can in fact make you happy the way you deserve.

you gave him that confidence.

in a case like this i think he wouldn’t hold back from proposing to you, actually he would bring it up pretty casually and have you dumbfounded by how out of nowhere it came.

but if he still is unsure about himself, still doesn’t have that confidence and you proposed instead— dabi would be shocked, to say the least, before asking you why would you want to marry him and starting to tell you that he might become someone as despicable as his father in future, that you might get hurt if you decide to stay by his side and that he’s bound to disappoint you.

this poor boy only needs to be reassured, he’s seriously too hard on himself by every meaning. so if you want him to say yes that badly at your proposal, you gotta first open his eyes on what a good boyfriend he has been until now (because i’m 100% sure he is) and that he’s gonna be even better in future because you two will go through it together.

if you give him the reassurance and confidence he needs for such an important step in your lives, i don’t think dabi is gonna turn you down and even if he doesn’t look like it he’s actually ecstatic.

a life by the side of his precious sunshine is everything he needs.

that being said everyone—

ALWAYS STAY CLOSE TO PEOPLES THAT FEELS LIKE SUNSHINE!!!!!!