#that opera had me just as shook

[atlabeth]

(not so) simple finale - anthony bridgerton

masterlist

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn’t.

a/n: so um ignore how long every part of this took to come out. i have no excuse. anyways we are finally here at the end!! almost 10k words of proper regency soap opera type shit and it all ends happily i promise. i hope u enjoy because damn this was supposed to be a short one shot and ended up being over 40k lmao

wc: 9k

warning(s): angst, reader is a lil insecure, slightly steamy make out scene, happy ending<333

You’d never been this restless before. 

Your dreams had a part to play in it. They insisted on tormenting you, though not in the usual way. 

No, these dreams would have been pleasant had they come any sooner. For Anthony Bridgerton appeared in near every single one, with his charming smile and soft eyes and hair you always desired to run your fingers through. 

He would smile at you, offer his arm and walk with you all around the park and the city as you talked for hours. He would compliment you, and you would compliment him, and he would court you as a perfect gentleman would. 

He would kiss you, ravenously so. His hands would touch you where no one had touched before, leaving trails of fire in their wake, would unearth feelings you never could have imagined. He would revere you, near worship you, because in this world you never made such ill-advised choices. In this world, you never dragged him into a worthless scheme that ended with a ruined reputation and a broken heart.  

In this world, he loved you just as much as you loved him, and you never did a single thing to make him doubt that. 

But you were not there. 

You were here, in the real world. Where you were in the midst of reaping what you spent a whole season sowing. 

You were roused from that less than peaceful attempt at sleep—though thoughts of Anthony took longer to disappear—by the opening of your door, and despite your visitor attempting to be quiet, you found your eyes fluttering open against your will.

“Oh, dearest,” your mother lamented, “I did not mean to wake you. I apologize; I merely wanted to check on you. I will return later—please, rest.”

“No,” you murmured, and you rubbed your eyes as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Small movements were much easier, which at least meant a step in the right direction. “No, stay. Please.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. When you nodded, she closed the door lightly behind her and sat on your bedside, laying her hand over yours. 

She whispered your name, her voice already thick with tears that she was trying to hide. “I am so glad you are alright.” 

“You say that every time you come in here,” you said.

“And I will continue to say it.” She shook her head. “You nearly perished. You should consider yourself lucky I am not in here at all hours of the day.” 

You managed a smile, and she sighed. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you said. “I am still sore, but much better.”

“Good,” she said. “All I can ask is that you continue to get better.” 

“The rest has certainly been nice,” you said. “Am I still a true lady despite my late wakings?” 

“You have always been a true lady,” your mother assured with a slight smile. 

“I believe you may be the only one that still thinks so.” 

“If you are feeling ready, there is a ball in a fortnight,” she said. “It could be a good way to garner good will again.” You gave her a look, and she held up her hands. “I understand how you feel, but your presence is important. There are… rumors floating about, and we must lay them to rest.” 

“Rumors,” you muttered wryly. “That your daughter is an ungrateful wench and will die a spinster?” 

She said your name sternly, and you shook your head. “I read what Whistledown wrote about me—she’s likely written a hundred more. I do not care what any of them think of me, Mother. I am only sorry for the pain it has caused you and Father, and the Bridgertons.” 

“The Bridgerton name is strong enough to weather scandal,” she said. “We have to work a bit harder. And making an appearance in society again, especially with Lord Cardew by your side, will help.” 

You suppressed a scoff at the mere thought of him. You’d been granted such a reprieve from Lord Cardew because of Anthony’s influence, and while you were recovering, no one but family was to see you. But soon—very soon—he would be your entire life. 

“That brings up another question,” your mother said wryly, and when you met her eyes she was giving you a very pointed look. “Are you still sure about this?” 

No, you wanted to say. You couldn’t be less sure about Jonathan Cardew. But you’d dragged your family into this mess of yours, so it was your duty to fix it. 

Plenty of women married much more dreadful men every year. You should have considered yourself lucky that a man of his breeding, of his standing was interested in you at all—especially after the season you’d spent distancing yourself from him and the scandal you’d caused. 

“...Yes,” you finally said. “I am sure.”

Your mother sighed and said your name. “You are sure? You have not reached out to Anth—” 

“There is nothing left between us,” you interrupted. “I know it is not the best situation, and I know it is my fault, but I am making the best of it. All I ask is that you support me. It is hard enough attempting to make my way through this world—I need my mother to be there for me rather than constantly pushing against it all.”

“...Of course,” she said quietly. “And I am so sorry that I have ever done differently. My dear, all I ask in return is that you understand me, as well as the decisions I make. All I want is the best for you, and I know that marriage is not what you desire, but there are things we must do.” 

“Of course,” you said, and your echoing words spurned a small smile from her. “I am sorry that I have always fought you so much. All I could see was my hatred for any kind of union, but all I managed was hurting you and Father, as well as myself, and— and I cannot think of any apology that will be enough.” You shook your head with a mirthless laugh. “I’ve no idea how you put up with me for so long, truly.” 

“I’ve never had to put up with you,” she said. “I realize I may not have done the best job at showing it, but— but I love you more than anything in this world. Everything I have ever done has been for you, my darling. You are the future of our name, and I know you will do an excellent job at carrying on our legacy.” 

“Truly?” you asked softly. 

Your mother nodded as she took your hands and smiled at you. “Truly. Nothing in this world can change my love for you. You are our greatest accomplishment.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat as you smiled as well, and you pulled your mother into a hug. She reciprocated, and tears filled your eyes. You’d missed the comfort of her presence so dearly. 

“I love you too,” you whispered. 

-

“Are you alright, my lady?” 

Your lady’s maid's words snapped you out of the stupor you’d found yourself in, and it was all you could do to attempt a smile. 

“Yes, Julia,” you said. “Quite alright.” 

Her brows furrowed as she draped a pendant around your neck, the cold metal turning your exhale slightly shaky. “Pardon my plainness, my lady, but you are not believable in the slightest.” 

“You have been around me for far too long,” you said dryly. “I request another maid, one that cannot read me so easily.” 

Julia offered a wry smile. “You are stuck with me for now, my lady. What is weighing so heavily on your mind?” 

You stared yourself in the mirror as you turned the question over. It was not as easy to answer as it should have been, not when everything was so out of order. Not when you hardly recognized the reflection staring back at you, wrapped in orange silk and adorned in jewels courtesy of Lord Cardew. 

You were not yourself—you were to be Baron Jonathan Cardew’s wife, a baroness and status symbol to hang off his arm and smile prettily, and Baroness Cardew was who stared back at you. 

Only a few more balls remained until the season came to an end, and though Lord Cardew was doing your family an immense service by giving you a second chance, he did not want to wait much longer to make it official. 

It was all planned out. Your relationship would truly enter the public eye tonight with your dances, you would promenade in open parks to have as many eyes on you as possible. He would call on you and your meager staff would be encouraged to spread rumors. Another ball would pass together, enough to hopefully weather some of the scandal you’d created, and then…

Then, he would propose. 

You would accept. 

And the fate you’d been so intent on avoiding would be sealed. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the impending tears. 

“I am nervous,” you admitted. “My decision didn’t exactly feel… real. Not until I was standing at the modiste getting fitted for this gown with one of Cardew’s maids. And all this jewelry…” Your fingers trailed across the raised designs on the pendant. “It makes it even more so.” 

“I can only imagine,” Julia said. “He has certainly put in effort.” 

“And yet it all feels hollow.” You moved away from the mirror and stopped in front of your vanity. The light blue reticule sitting near your jewelry box felt as if it was mocking you. 

Julia said your name with a sigh. “You made your choice. You pushed him away.” 

“I know,” you murmured, tracing the embroidery with your finger. “But feelings do not disappear so quickly.” 

“He wrote letters,” she said. “After you moved from Bridgerton House to recover here, after I refused his calling on you for the hundredth time, he wrote letters and delivered them by hand.” 

You picked at a loose strand of white thread on the purse, jaw clenched so tight you thought your teeth might crack. 

“He told me he did not care if you didn’t want them,” Julia continued softly. “He just needed you to know how he felt.” 

“This is how it has to be,” you finally said, voice shaking. 

“And what makes you think that?” Julia challenged. “You believe you have to live a life of misery simply because half the ton does so in the name of reputation and riches?” 

“Two things I no longer have any of,” you murmured. “Cardew’s pedigree is enough to get both back for my family. It is my duty, Jules, and I can no longer hide from it.” 

Your lady’s maid looked at you with desperation in her eyes when there was a knock on the door followed by your mother calling your name. You nodded your permission and she opened it.

“Lady Worthing,” she said, curtsying just so to your mother. “I’ve finished getting her ready—I’ll give the two of you some time alone.” 

“Thank you, Julia,” your mother said with a smile. She turned back to you, her eyes softer than ever as she moved forward and set her hands on your shoulders. 

“My darling,” she said, “you look so beautiful. I did not lie when I called you the crown jewel of our family.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. “Thank you, Mother. I’m glad I can make you proud.” 

She murmured your name, turning you so you faced the mirror. You saw yourself more this time, feeling more assured with your mother standing behind you holding all the stars in her eyes. 

“I have always been proud of you, darling,” she murmured. “Even if I did not show it in the best way. I love you more than words can express. I meant it when I said you are our greatest achievement.” 

You let out a shaky breath, leaning back against her. She allowed you to sink into her and you felt the tears brimming in your eyes. 

“...I’m afraid, Mother,” you whispered. “To marry. To be a wife.” 

She was silent for a moment, busying herself with adjusting your jewelry before she spoke.

“I was afraid too,” she admitted. “I hardly knew your father outside of a few promenades, and one lovely bouquet of flowers. It was almost fully arranged by our parents. But when he proposed, he vowed to always be my friend, and to always take care of me.” 

“Has he?” you asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “We did not love each other on our wedding day. But he has always been kind to me, and he has always advocated for me, and we have always been there for each other. We love each other now, in our own way. And,” she smiled, smoothing down the lace on your sleeves, “together, we brought you into the world. I would do it all over again if it meant I would get you in the end.” 

You could not imagine considering Lord Cardew a friend, nor the opposite. He saw you as just another pretty jewel to adorn himself with. 

Anthony saw you as a friend— as more. He always listened to what you had to say, always entertained your jokes with some of us own, never talked down on you. He saw you as an equal. 

 “I do not know if any woman is prepared to marry,” she finally said. “Even those that marry for love still have initial doubts. There are so many expectations of our behavior when we are told so little of what we must actually do.” 

“How do you do it?” you asked. “You married a man you didn’t know. You raised a child. You held face against a society that shamed you for only having a daughter.” 

“All you can do is trust in yourself, and in those around you,” she said. “If you are with the right person, everything will feel as natural as breathing. You will not care what anything thinks of you, because there is only one opinion that matters.” 

There was one man you felt natural around, one who you felt you could speak your mind around and not be judged. One man that you’d fallen in love with, that surely hated you in return for what you’d done to him. 

Your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “What should I do, Mother?” 

“You know what you must do,” she said softly. “All I can do is support you.” 

-

You’d rubbed your palms on your dress at least fifteen times since you’d arrived. A fruitless effort, considering you were wearing gloves, but you could not stand still. 

Your conversation with Lord Cardew had taken everything out of you, your dance with him even more so—an especially damning fate seemed ahead of you. But you could tune him out well enough, at least. 

It was an entirely different deal when the Bridgertons showed up. 

Violet walked in arm and arm with Anthony and Benedict, and Colin had a loose hold on Eloise. And to make matters worse, Daphne Bridgerton, alongside her husband the Duke of Hastings, were making an appearance. What an honor, to have the chance to embarrass yourself in front of such highly ranking nobles. 

Eloise branched off immediately after they passed the threshold, much to the protests of her mother, but your mother immediately pulled you in their direction. You could only imagine her thoughts—if she could get the Duke of Hastings touting for the Worthings, that would make things much easier.  

Anything for the optics, you supposed. But when you met Anthony’s eyes for the first time, you had to avert your gaze. He just looked so damn sad. 

“It is good to see you again, Violet,” your mother said. “And it is an honor, Duke and Duchess Hastings.” The both of you curtsied, and you could see the Duke’s slight smile. 

“I consider it my honor to meet the woman who has been the center of such conversation this season,” he said. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and thankfully Violet stepped in. 

“It is good to see you as well, Cecilia.” Violet smiled as she looked at you. “Especially you, my dear.” 

You bowed your head. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton, Duke Hastings. I am grateful to be here.” 

Benedict smiled, the notion warmer than anything you deserved. “You look lovely, Miss Worthing. Especially for someone who escaped death with such recency.”

Anthony’s eyes remained on you the entire time, and more than anything you wished you could read this mind. The man probably hated you, and he had every right to do so. You just wished your feelings for him weren’t so insurmountable. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled as believably as you could. “Thank you, Mister Bridgerton. You also look well.”

Your mother nudged your shoulder and your gaze met Anthony’s once more. He still hadn’t looked away from you. 

You bowed your head once more. “Lord Bridgerton. It… is good to see you.”

No wonder you actually ended up falling in love with Anthony. It was the only way anyone could believe this ruse—you were quite an awful actress. 

Anthony lowered his head as well, his poise stiff. “A pleasure, Miss Worthing.”

“We’re glad to see you’re doing well,” Violet said, her smile a bit thin. You could only imagine the conversation that would occur between her and your mother later. “You caused us all quite a scare.”

“Oh, Anthony was so worried,” Daphne said, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m thankful we have the chance to attend this ball so I could see you in person.” 

“I’ve recovered well,” you nodded, and you looked at Violet. “My family and I thank you immensely for your kindness and your doctor’s care. We’ll be in your debt endlessly.”

“There is no need for that,” Violet said. “It is enough that you are still here.”

Your cheeks burned but you tried to smile anyways. You wanted to burrow into a hole and never come out. It seemed the Bridgertons were capable of endless grace in public when they surely had to despise you. 

“Eloise has run off somewhere over near the strings,” Benedict provided in the silence. “I’m sure she would appreciate your companionship tonight.”

You glanced at your mother and she nodded, and your smile at Benedict was much more genuine. “Of course. I’ve been meaning to talk with her.” 

You mouthed thank you to him when your mother could not see, and he nodded. He’d always been so decent to you. 

You could not help but glance at Anthony as you went, and his gaze followed you. He would resent you if he had any sense, but it seemed the opposite—the sadness in his eyes was fatal.

You took a glass of lemonade from the refreshments table when you passed it, needing something to do with your hands. You found your way to Eloise’s side soon enough, and her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.

“It is so good to see you,” she breathed. “I’ve only just arrived, and I’ve already had to fend off suitors. They just cannot seem to understand I hold such little care for them.” 

“I am just as glad to see you,” you admitted. “I do not think I can get through this night alone.” 

“I cannot imagine why,” Eloise said sarcastically. “I’ve heard the news. And I must say, it is your poorest decision this season.”

Your laugh was mostly out of surprise, and you nearly dropped the flute of lemonade you were holding. You were on edge far more than you expected—you almost wished your glass was full of champagne. 

“At least somebody is speaking plainly,” you murmured, your gaze distant and unfocused. “I think the rest of your family must hate me, but they’re all too kind to say it.” 

Eloise frowned. “Why would any of them hate you?” 

Your grip tightened on your glass. “Because I caused an immense scandal and then ended things with Anthony?”

She huffed a laugh, her eyebrows now rising. “Our family has weathered many a scandal, and we are still here. Or have you forgotten how Daphne’s dearest husband chose to court her?”  

“That is different,” you insisted. 

“I think it is worse, actually,” Eloise said plainly. “Simon is a duke, and Anthony nearly killed him before Daphne knocked some sense into him.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Truly, it was a disaster. We Bridgertons have a knack for them.” 

“As do I,” you said with a loose laugh. “I was stabbed, Eloise. I nearly died in your brother’s arms.” 

“And we nearly died in our drawing room,” she said. “Anthony, most of all. He cares for you immensely.” 

“Surely he cannot,” you insisted. “Not after what I’ve done.” 

“I am not blind,” Eloise said, “and neither are you. So do not demerit our intelligence and pretend as if you do not see it.” 

“I— I know.” You wrapped your arms around your midsection, and you grimaced as the jewelry on your wrists brushed against your skin. You were covered head to toe in finery that didn’t belong to you, and you itched from the inside out. “But I don’t know where to go from here.” 

“It’s quite obvious, isn’t it?” Eloise looked across the room, where Lord Cardew stood talking to your mother, and then over at her brother, who couldn’t have been less interested in the lady trying to strike up conversation with him. Then her gaze fell to you. “You’ve got a choice to make.” 

“I’ve already ruined things,” you murmured. “I— I can’t just back out of this.”

“I can tell you that you certainly haven’t ruined things with my brother. And Lady Whistledown’s speculation is the only thing binding you to that lecher.” Eloise shrugged. “You’ve already broken off one courtship. What’s another?”

Your eyes met Anthony’s from across the room. Once again, he’d already been looking at you. You averted your gaze quickly, feeling the heat rush to your face, and you tried to steady your breathing. He had no right to still have such an effect on you. 

“I need some air,” you murmured. “Will you—”

“Of course,” Eloise said. “You are simply touching things up in the powder room.”

You nodded your thanks and slipped out of the ballroom, finally able to drop the facade you’d been trying to uphold. You truly felt as if you were overheating, and the cool air was hardly of aid once you reached the outdoors.

Everything was all wrong—your dress, this damned tiara, the bracelets and the necklaces and every jewel that Cardew thought he could buy you with. 

It all belonged to him. You would not be another prize on his shelf. 

You couldn’t help yourself. You began to shed the jewelry as your pace sped up, ripping bangles from your wrists and pendants from your neck—by the time you reached a deserted area of the gardens, you were considerably lighter and considerably close to tears. 

You let out a frustrated sob as you slammed your fists against some artistic stone structure. It earned you nothing but pain, but it grounded you in some strange way. You tore off your gloves and threw them to the ground, a shaky breath escaping you as you screwed your eyes shut and  pressed your palms to your forehead. 

You could not marry traditionally, you could not follow through with your feelings for Anthony, and now you could not follow through with this ill-advised plan. 

Were you truly this useless? To bring ruin to two families with your knack for destroying things for it all to amount to nothing? You waxed poetic about the life you thought you deserved to live, about going to university and gaining your independence and never marrying, and yet here you were, near tears in the gardens of the ball you were meant to reenter society at. 

“Miss Worthing.”

The whispered words blared through the silence, and you knew who it was without having to turn around. It still sent a shock through you, your breathing faltering for a moment. Your eyes stayed shut. 

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice watery. 

“You do not know me if you think there is anywhere else I would be,” he said. 

“How did you find me?”

“I followed the trail of jewels. You’ve left an awfully expensive path in your wake.”

“All of it is worthless,” you mumbled, finally letting your hands drop. “It all belongs to Lord Cardew.”

“You’ll have made a magpie very happy.” 

“Enough with the jokes,” you said. “Why are you here?” 

“Why do you think?” Anthony asked with a slight laugh. 

“I do not know,” you responded. “That is why I asked.” 

“I am here because I want to talk to you,” he said. “You cannot just avoid me for the rest of the season.”

You turned away. “I can try.”

“I will not let you,” Anthony enunciated. “I will not let you make the biggest mistake of your life because you believe it is your duty.”

“If you are here to change my mind, you are wasting your time,” you said stiffly. 

“I don’t believe I have to do anything,” Anthony said. “It looks as if you’ve come to the conclusion yourself.” 

“And what makes you think that?”

“You have not even glanced in Cardew’s direction this entire night,” he said. “You’ve been looking at me instead.” 

“Because I have felt your eyes on me with every moment.” 

Anthony huffed. “Can you blame me? This is the first time I have seen you since that night.” 

“Then you should remember my words from that night,” you bit out. 

“Why are you so intent on pushing me away?” Anthony begged. 

You scoffed. “Why are you so intent on bothering me?”

“Because I cannot stand here and watch you marry another!” he exclaimed.

Your brows furrowed and you turned around. Anthony stood in front of you, his outfit impeccable but not at all looking put together. Desperation colored his eyes, and you saw how truly undone he’d become. 

“I— I thought I could, but I cannot.” He shook his head, a muscle working in his jaw as he glanced away. “Every moment you are in the vicinity of that man is a test of my strength. And I do not know how strong I am.” 

“I don’t understand,” you said hollowly. “You should hate me.” 

“I could never hate you,” Anthony murmured. “I thought I could, when you first told me of your plans, but— but I could hardly even dislike you.” A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head. “My mother had been bothering me for nearly a decade to find a wife and settle down, but I thought love was a fool’s game. I would have my fun as a bachelor, and then settle down with the most advantageous match. There was no need for further emotional baggage—when you love, you can lose. And I refused to lose again.” 

For a moment, your heart stopped in your chest. He lost his father, he nearly lost you, and then you pushed him away like he meant nothing. 

“Anthony—” you whispered, but he shook his head. 

“Please,” he said. “I have a lot to say.” 

You nodded, and he did as well. 

“Our deal was perfect for that. You were nothing but my sister’s nuisance of a friend—a bad influence that I could never see as more.” You could not help your soft laugh, and Anthony’s smile turned a bit more genuine. 

“But then we spent more time together. I… truly began to know you.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “You shattered every preconception I had of you. I began to look forward to our meetings, to our promenades—I would get home from calling on you and could think only of the next time I would see you.” 

“Throughout it all, you made me realize I was worthy of love,” he said. “You— you made me realize that I wanted it. That I wanted you.” His throat bobbed, and you could see his eyes glistening. “That I loved you.” 

You could hardly find the strength to speak. You felt as if you could melt into a puddle at his feet just from his words. You were so intent on avoiding Anthony because you couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him anymore— you believed he would be better off without you, without the scandal you’d dragged him into. 

But he… he loved you. 

He loved you just as you loved him. 

“I do not expect you to share any of my notions, and I know you value your freedom more than anything,” Anthony murmured. “So if it is not me you wish to be with, I understand, and I will accept it without complaint. I just beg of you—do not become that wretched man’s wife.” 

All you could do was stare at him for a moment more, words beyond your reach before you finally managed to speak through your emotions. 

“I tried to tell myself the exact same thing,” you said softly. “That you could not be happy with me. That I could never be happy chained to another—truly, that I could never love. Not when freedom is what I have always desired most. But Anthony…” you moved forward until you were mere centimeters apart, unable to suppress the shiver that ran through you at the proximity, “I have never felt more free than when I am with you.” 

“Miss—” Anthony started, but he paused and shook his head before saying your first name instead. His eyes were softer than anything. “Are you truly…?” 

“I could never fathom you sharing my feelings,” you said thickly. “That is why I pushed you away. But I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I think I have loved you for quite some time.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, turning away so as to not betray the fullness of your emotions, and though you opened your mouth to provide some excuse, you were not granted the chance. 

Anthony’s hand encircled your wrist, pulling you back around, and just as soon did you feel his lips against yours. The tightness in your chest dissolved almost immediately as you all but fell into him, Anthony wrapping his arms around you to support you as your hands found purchase on anything they could. 

Your focus became devoted solely to the feeling of him, his soft lips against yours even as they plied for access. Anthony held you as if his only desire were to protect you from the world, and it made you feel a way you’d never even imagined. Only when air became a necessity did he pull away, his labored breaths in contrast to the pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Never in a thousand years did I think you would feel the same,” he murmured, his hands cupping your face on either side as he gazed into your eyes. “I thought myself a fool, falling for the one woman I could not have. You’ve no idea the relief it brings to hear you share my feelings.”

“I suppose I am just as foolish as you,” you breathed. Your heart felt as if it could burst. 

The corners of his lips quirked up in a smile. “I cannot imagine what my mother would think—that after so long spent searching for a wife, I fell for the one woman who never wanted the title.” 

You let out an airy laugh, relishing the feeling of his skin against yours. “Nor did I see myself falling for the one man who resented the chains of marriage as much as I.” 

Anthony pressed his lips against yours once more, and your hands traveled up until they tangled in his hair. You kissed until you were nearly breathless, but Anthony still managed to pull a very unladylike sound out of you as he bowed his head, kissing down the line of your jaw, your neck, until his teeth nipped your skin just above your decolletage.

“Anthony,” you gasped, clenching your fingers as they buried themselves further into his dark locks. You had never been this close with a man before, never this intimate — you never thought you would even desire it. 

But Anthony lit a fire inside of you that only he could quench, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was stoke it further. It was equally maddening and dizzying, the control he so effortlessly had over you. 

“I never knew how much I would delight in hearing you say my name,” he murmured, his lips trailing against your skin. “No more Lord Bridgerton, I beg of you.”

“I should think I’d like to hear you beg—” you breathed, but Anthony cut you off yet again as he pulled you into another searing kiss. You could hardly stand it anymore as your hands fell down to his shoulders, and you pulled away for just a moment as you began desperately undoing his waistcoat, Anthony taking the hint and removing his jacket. 

“These buttons were not designed with the needs of a lady in mind,” you huffed in frustration, fumbling fingers failing to make progress, and Anthony chuckled breathlessly.

“Have we finally found something I best you in?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Just take it off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

You groaned as you looked at him. “If you insist on teasing me this way, Lord Bridgerton, I shall go back inside and act as if nothing has happened.”

“There is no need for idle threats,” he defended, and you bit back your smile. Anthony made deft work of his waistcoat, and the second he tossed it aside he was back on you. 

“Besides,” his voice was a whisper a millimeter from your ear, and warmth blazed in your core, “I believe I told you to call me Anthony.”

“And I believe you should have to try harder than that.” You smiled into his kiss as you trailed your nails down his back, the thin fabric of his dress shirt doing little as you felt his involuntary shiver. 

“You’ve no idea the effect you have on me,” he groaned, once again dipping his head as he peppered even more kisses down your neck, sliding down the sleeve of your dress to allow himself better access. 

The night air on your newly freed skin did little for you, any coolness of the breeze instantly negated by the heat of Anthony against you. Your nails dug into his back as he moved down, each spot where his lips touched your skin erupting with fire. 

You gasped out his name, barely able to handle it—the feeling was so foreign yet familiar, as if you had been waiting all your life for Anthony in this way. 

You could hardly believe you nearly lost it of your own accord. 

“It appears I do not have to try hard at all,” he said, “the way you cry out for me.” 

You laughed breathlessly, though his words were indeed true. You knew, in this moment, that you would do anything for Anthony Bridgerton—and he would do anything for you. “How I fell for a man as irritating as you, I haven’t the slightest.” 

You caught the slightest glimpse of his grin before he ducked his head yet again, and he had only just begun pushing both sleeves of your dress down when a woman’s voice could be heard behind you. 

“Anthony— oh!” 

The unfamiliar voice struck fear into your heart you had never felt the likes of before. Anthony moved away from you quicker than you’d ever seen, you just as hasty as you tugged the sleeves of your dress back to where they belonged and attempted to smooth out everything that Anthony had so easily sullied. 

You’d never imagined this was how your reputation would be ruined, with Anthony Bridgerton in the gardens of some ball, but when you finally had the sense to look and see who had caught you in a most uncompromising position, you could hardly stifle your incredulous laugh. 

“Sister?” Anthony questioned in disbelief, so many emotions warring on his face you had to turn away to cover up your growing grin. 

“Anthony,” Daphne greeted in kind, fighting to conceal her smile as her eyes drifted to you. “Miss Worthing.” 

“Your Grace!” Your shaky fingers were hardly of use to you as you pulled your gloves back up to where they belonged and once again ran your hands down the skirt of your dress to smooth out the wrinkles. Your cheeks burned under her gaze and you were innately aware of the fire underneath your skin brought about by Anthony’s touch in contrast to the cool night air. “What brings you here?” 

“Mother was quite… nervous about tonight,” she explained. “She indulged in one too many glasses of champagne, so she is taking her leave with Benedict for aid. She requested I find you to alert you of her departure, but it seems she was not the one whose disappearance should have been questioned.” 

“I’m sure you know this is quite compromising.” Thinly veiled amusement crossed Daphne’s face as she eyed you pointedly. “I am afraid you must marry him at once Miss Worthing, else I shall have to duel you to protect my brother’s honor.” 

You laughed breathlessly as Anthony looked up at the sky, his face turning a deeper shade of red than you had ever seen. “Your Grace, are you suggesting that I have ruined him?” 

“Indeed I am,” she confirmed, and you could see how it took every muscle of her being to retain a serious image. “This is not a light matter, miss. I do not understand why you are laughing.” 

“Daphne,” Anthony groaned, avoiding her eyes as he occupied himself with his jacket. “Why do you insist on being a nuisance?” 

“Anthony,” she inflected his name the same way he did hers, “I cannot have this woman sullying your name! I know it was of no will of your own, but this can not stand as is. But do not worry; I am prepared to defend your honor to my last breath.” 

“My sincerest apologies for what I have done, Duchess Hastings,” you responded gravely. “I am prepared for pistols at dawn.” 

Anthony huffed as he buttoned his waistcoat back up then went to retrieve his jacket from the bushes. “You exaggerate, the both of you. This cannot be what I was like last season.” 

“You were worse, brother. But do not worry,” Daphne said with a grin, “I should think a taste of your own practices is only fair after all you put Simon and me through.”

Anthony sighed with a slight roll of his eyes. “I… suppose… that it is what I deserve.” 

“Thank you, brother,” she said. “I only wish we had a witness just so your confession is forever remembered.”

“I wish Mother had not sent you to seek me out,” he responded dryly. 

You and Daphne exchanged smiles with each other before your expression sobered slightly. “ I ask quite a bit of you with this, Your Grace, but… may I count on your discretion? I know we jest, but my reputation truly could not handle something like this. I do not know if…” you glanced at Anthony before looking back to her, “if we are yet ready to seal our union.” 

“Of course,” Daphne nodded, and a relieved smile tugged at your lips. “I shall not tell a soul.” 

“Thank you eternally, Your Grace,” you expressed, but at your short curtsy she shook her head.

“Please, call me Daphne.” She offered a smile of her own, slightly coy. “After what I have just witnessed, I’ve no doubt you will be joining our family soon enough.” 

“Sister!” Anthony scolded, and when you glanced at him his entire face was dusted pink, even the tips of his ears. It was enough to make you swoon. “You cannot just say things whenever you see fit.” 

Daphne merely shrugged, joyfully indifferent to her brother’s protests. “I outrank you now, dearest brother — I believe I can say whatever I see fit, particularly when it is the truth.”

“You are truly impossible,” Anthony muttered as he shook his head. 

Daphne just smiled before she looked back at you. “I believe it best if the two of you leave at separate times, so as to not allow room for any rumors. Miss Worthing, you should go first and return to your mother; you can claim you simply needed fresh air. Anthony and I will stroll around the grounds for a bit before allowing ourselves to be seen — we are simply catching up after such a stretch spent at Clyvedon.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you smoothed your mussed hair and wrinkled dress for the last time. Anthony certainly did a number on you, in more ways than one. “Thank you again, Your—” you caught yourself, correcting your error with a small smile, “Daphne. 

“You may count on me in the future whenever I am in London,” she reassured. “It is my hope anyway that I shall be able to welcome you to the family officially.”

“Daphne!” Anthony exclaimed yet again, glaring at her. “Might you take your leave so we may have a moment alone?” 

“I believe you just had quite a few moments alone,” Daphne said, but a pointed look from her brother had her conceding with a smile. “Alright. I will be by the trees when you need me.” 

Anthony turned to you with an odd look in his eyes when Daphne was out of hearing distance, and when he did eventually speak, his voice was far softer than usual. 

“Do you truly believe I would not marry you?” he asked, and the underlying hurt in his voice did not go unnoticed. “Even if there were not the risk of a scandal, I would not hesitate. My entire heart lies with you.”

“It is not you, Anthony,” you sighed with a slight shake of your head. “I do not… I do not know if I am even capable of marriage.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I have spent my entire life running from it,” you said, chuckling softly, “and yet, here I am, the one thing I never thought I would be.”

“In love,” Anthony realized, and you nodded. 

“It has always been easy enough to denounce marriage when I’d never experienced anything of the like. The union of my parents was for convenience rather than love, and for as long as I’ve been alive my mother has tried to drill it into my head that my feelings did not matter — so long as the man had the means to provide for me and was not completely awful, he was satisfactory.”

“A future like that— it was so completely absurd to me that denouncing it all was the easiest thing in the world. And then I nearly died and my entire world changed, and I decided that Cardew was the best option to allow myself to completely separate emotion from marriage, but now…” you looked at Anthony, feeling more vulnerable now than ever. “I have found a love in you I’ve never thought possible, and I cannot stop imagining a life with you. And that terrifies me more than anything.” 

“But…” you trailed off again and you turned away from him as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “But I do not know how to approach my future, especially one where we are so closely intertwined.” 

Silence hung in the air for a noticeable period before Anthony cleared his throat, and it was obvious the care he put into his words. 

“You know I never imagined I would marry for love. Truly, I never intended it—I expected to be miserable in marriage. I saw it as nothing more than another duty to take care of. I believed that love was trivial, a ridiculous distraction. You are the one who made me see differently.” 

You turned around with slightly wide eyes, your arms wrapped around your midsection doing little to ward off the cool night air that seemed far colder than it was before. Anthony’s gaze never left yours, the softness in his own at odds with the pure, unbridled passion. 

“I love you. Though I have only just allowed myself to accept the fact, you are someone that I cannot imagine living the rest of my days without. There was…” his throat bobbed as his voice crackled slightly, “there was a moment when I feared the worst, that you would permanently disappear from my life. And ever since you were all but brought back from the dead, I have known that you are the only woman I wish to be with. It is why as soon as I left you, I asked my mother for this.” 

Anthony took a box out of his pocket, and you gasped as he got down on one knee, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. 

“This is the ring my father proposed to my mother with, and their love was beyond anything I have seen before. But it is the love that I feel for you, something so strong, so overwhelming— something I never thought I would experience. And yet here I am, madly in love with the one woman who scorned me with every word, and only pursued me because of my brand as a lesser evil.” 

A laugh bubbled out of you, the sound slightly muffled through your gloves, and you could not help it as your eyes began to fill with tears. 

“I admire you; all of you. The part that loves her family with every part of her being, that looks out for those with less than her when those more fortunate turn a blind eye. The part that fights for the rights of her sex when it is so much easier to just bow one’s head, that puts her happiness on a rightful pedestal— the part that is so terrified to share herself with others and yet deserves a love of the purest form.”

“And I am aware of how the unknown is a fear of yours, as it is one of mine. But I assure you—” Anthony’s voice was filled with such passion, his eyes with such love, that you could hardly stand it, “—I will be there for you every step of the way. We will face our fears as one, and we will shape the future ourselves, not to be bound by anyone or anything.” 

“I do not know where my future will lead me, but I know I do not want to face a single second of it without you. If you do not feel the same, I understand, but I will not be able to live with myself if I do not at least try. It is why I ask you,” Anthony said your name with more love than ever before, “will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, a smile breaking across your face even as tears of joy streamed down your cheeks. “Yes, yes, I will marry you!”

Anthony let out a sigh of relief as he grinned, and after he slid the ring on your finger he stood up and pulled you into a breathless kiss. Nothing picture perfect like you’d heard about as a young girl, the kind of effortless gentleman’s act— Anthony kissed you with pure passion, love, desire, and it nearly brought you to your knees. You thought it would have, were it not for Anthony’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you against him and supporting you. 

You could hardly believe the same man who treated you as if you were glass after your injury was the one standing before you now, the one who handled you in such a way that could get the both of you exiled were anyone to see—the one that you thought hated you.  

And you were more than willing to allow it to continue, to surrender yourself fully to your baser instincts, when you remembered something that made your eyes widen.

“Your sister,” you murmured between kisses until you finally managed to pull away, albeit reluctantly. “Daphne is still waiting.”

Anthony laughed breathlessly as he pulled you back in, and your earlier protest was shown to be completely nonsensical. “Let her wait.” 

You grinned as he peppered kisses down your neck, enjoying the sensation until you pushed him away. “Anthony.” 

He groaned. “Why must you be a better person than I?”

“Believe when I say it pains me,” you said. “But the last thing we need is yet another scandal by my hand.” 

“Let them know,” he said, taking your hands in his. “Let all of London know that I love you, that we will be wed. I do not care what we have to face so long as we face it together.” 

“The thought has never been so tempting,” you murmured. “But you should at least alert your sister. It would be improper to make her wait out here all night for nothing.” 

His grip tightened on your hands. “So you do wish to leave together?” 

“Anthony, I just accepted your proposal,” you said with a laugh. “I wish to spend the rest of our lives together.” 

“I believe tonight is a good place to start, then,” he grinned. 

Anthony would not let you leave his side, so you went to Daphne together. First she saw your smile, then her gaze drifted down to your hand—she looked knowingly at her brother, though she could not hide her smile either. 

“It would appear as if I was right,” she mused. “I am always right when it comes to you though, Anthony, so it is not much of a surprise.” 

“Do not mock me,” Anthony said. “I could have left you waiting by the bushes all night.” 

“If you had not proposed to her after the conversation we had the other day, I would have questioned your sense,” Daphne said. “Trust me, I would not have been here long.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “What conversation?” 

“We do not need to start on this,” he said with a pointed look at his sister. “I have already bared my entire soul tonight. I do not need my sister embarrassing me further.” 

“Oh, I would never,” Daphne drawled. “After all, there will be plenty of time for us to gossip together when I come to visit you all.” 

“Won’t you be busy with your child?” Anthony asked. 

She shrugged. “You may be busy with one as well by the time I see you again.” 

You looked at Anthony only to find his gaze was already on you. There must have been some shred of doubt in your eyes, because he only took your hand in his. 

“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “We will take things as slowly as you desire.” 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat and nodded as you squeezed his hands—you knew what was expected of you as a wife, and you wanted it with Anthony, but you could not lie and say that his reassurances did not bring you relief. 

“My best wishes to the new Viscountess Bridgerton,” Daphne said, her voice full of affection as she clasped her hands together. “It is an honor to have you join our family.” 

“It is an honor to be accepted,” you said, bowing your head. 

Daphne smiled. “I assume you want to reveal this on your own terms.” 

You nodded. “I’ve dealt with enough attention from the ton lately.” 

“I am afraid to say that will not go away,” she said wryly. “But I will cover for the two of you.” 

You pressed a hand to your chest. “Thank you.” 

“It is only proper to welcome my sister in such a way,” she said with a wink, and you could not help but smile. “Now run along, you two. Before rumors start.” 

Anthony chuckled, and the two of them embraced before you started on your way.

“Viscountess Bridgerton,” Anthony murmured in your ear. “I love the sound of that.” 

You hummed in agreement. “As do I.” 

You laid your head on Anthony’s shoulder as you walked back with your hands intertwined—not to the ball, but to a carriage for the promise of time alone. You glanced over at Anthony and he smiled, and you pulled him to a stop as you pressed a kiss to his lips. He responded with hunger, the same vigor he displayed when you first stepped into the gardens together, and you could hardly believe he still had it left in him. 

Far too many minutes passed as you kissed and kissed and kissed, not a single care in the world of someone catching you. What could they do? You’d already endured enough scandal to weather anything, and there was no way to punish you and Anthony — you were already engaged. 

Your lips were sure to be bruised once you finally pulled away, Anthony gazing at you with complete adoration as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I cannot believe you are to be my wife,” he murmured. 

“I cannot believe you are to be my husband,” you breathed. “When will we reveal it?” 

“Tomorrow,” he said, intertwining your hands with his own. “Tomorrow, we will tell everyone, and we will deal with everything that comes along with it. But tonight…” 

“It is our secret.”

Anthony nodded. “Tonight, we start the rest of our lives together.” 

“The rest of our lives together,” you murmured. 

Truly, it sounded like a dream. Months ago you could not even consider the thought of marriage without an air of disgust—now, here with Anthony, you could not stop thinking about the fact that you were to be his wife. 

The rest of your life with Anthony would be anything but simple.

And yet, somehow, you could not think of anything more perfect.

-

taglist, only bc this series has been going on since i still had a taglist lmao. @ifilwtmfc @readers-post @fangirling-galore @funkydinosaurs @baby-i-am-fireproof @mess-is-my-aesthetic @likeballet @mdkfh @brezzybfan @magical-spit @lafy-taffy @miss-celestial-being @mercurysrhapsody @evilsailorsenshi @mainstreambitchlife @aangsupremacy @chloepluto1306 @lostaudfound @panhoeofmanyfandoms @blhemmings @my-acrylic-heart @seninjakitey @vlodi @arianagrandes-things @preciousbabypeter @youraliendaddo @stupidlittlebei @illuminwtesz @eringaitskill @otheliesstuff @users09 @chloepluto1306 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @m-rae23 @the-horror-and-the-wild-simp @diemdurantia @theyoungestchild0w0 @mschievousx @alwaysreading1019 @ibelieveindragons141 @pretzywetzy

[clockwayswrites]

Birb in a box Part 14

masterpost

By Thursday Danny was feeling much more human, or at least closer to human as he ever felt. Had tonight been anything more active than sitting in a seat and watching a ballet, Danny would have had to beg off. He figured this much he could manage. Besides, pushing it a little so not as to disappoint Cass on her big night was worth it. She was a sweet girl and Danny had the feeling that she could use more people celebrating her.

Not that Danny expected to actually see Cass that night beyond her time on the stage.

Still, Danny figured he should at least look the part of a ballet patron and dug the cobalt blue suit that he had gotten for Jazz’s wedding out of its bag in the back of his closet. He might as well be presentable, even if his hair never quite behaved. He kept it much shorter now, mostly so that it was out of the way, and hoped that tonight a shower and some hair gel would be enough. At least the little start shaped sapphire studs Tucker and Sam had gotten him for passing his dissertation looked good. (Bless his piercings never seeming to close fully up.)

A quick pat of his coat pockets to make sure he had everything and Danny was off. Gotham was thankfully quiet that night— or as quiet as Gotham ever was— and Danny even managed to catch an earlier connecting train. It left him enough time for a leisurely walk to the the opera house.

The lobby of the grand building was buzzing with excited patrons that Danny did his best to slip through. He really just wanted to find his seat. Which was apparently was upstairs and all the way down a hall that became narrower than expected as he continued. There was another ticket check, which Danny thought as odd until he realized as he passed by an open curtain that these were the theater’s box seats.

Which was odd.

Danny glanced down at his phone. Was he in the wrong place?

“Ah, Danny, I see you found us alright.”

Apparently not, because that was definitely Bruce Wayne’s voice. Yep, and that was Bruce Wayne himself, looking far too handsome in a deep grey suit. Danny really hoped he wasn’t blushing because damn did the man cut a dashing figure. A little part of Danny wanted to reach out and run his fingers across one of those impressively broad shoulders.

“I did,” Danny said, head ducked down slightly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Though honestly, I didn’t expect this to be what you meant when you offered to get the ticket for me. I don’t mean to intrude on your family.”

Bruce chuckled and Danny felt he might melt a little. “Nonsense. It will be a relief to have another adult around.”

“Hey, some of us are adults!” Someone from in the booth said. A moment later Dick Grayson appeared with a large smile and wearing a suit that was the brightest magenta that Danny had ever seen.

“That remains to be seen,” Bruce said dryly, though his mouth was quirked in a smile.

His son ignored him.

“Hi, I’m Dick Grayson, Bruce’s oldest and totally an adult,” Dick said, offering his hand. “Bruce was practically a teen dad when he adopted me.”

“Please don’t spread rumors like that,” Bruce said with the long suffering sigh of a tired father.

“Luckily, I think it’s all pretty easy to fact check,” Danny said before he thought better of it and shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you Dick, I’m Danny Fenton.”

“It’s good to meet you. I think Cass really liked meeting someone who could sign with her just out in the wild.”

“I just wish I wasn’t so rusty,” Danny said, feeling mildly embarrassed at the praise over his poor skills. “I’ll have to brush up on some things.”

“I’m sure that would mean a lot to her,” Bruce replied. “The family knows how to sign, of course, but sadly she isn’t so lucky mostly places. It’s nice for her to have others to talk to on days where her voice isn’t around.”

“I can only imagine. I wish that it was taught in schools. You’d think with all the advancement and proof of concept with baby sign language they would—” He cut himself off with a flustered little laugh. “Sorry, my sister is a behavioral psychiatrist with a two year old daughter. I get to hear a lot about things like baby sign language and color perception and the stages of personality growth.”

Luckily Bruce just laughed and motioned for Danny to enter the box. “A stage I’ve sadly missed with all my children. So your sister is another doctor Fenton in the family?”

“Fourth, actually. Both my parents are also Doctor Fentons. It’s five if you count my sister-in-law, but she kept her last name for publication reasons. I guess you looked me up if you know about my phd?” Danny wasn’t offended at that. If he had a daughter who befriended a random older man at work, he would sure as hell look them up too.

Bruce, however, smiled apologetically. “I asked Lucius about you. You’ve made quite an impression on him. He’s promised to have my head on a platter if I, or my horde of children, do anything to drive you away.”

Danny laughed at that and gratefully sunk into the seat that Bruce indicated. He was starting to feel the walk here now. “Knowing Lucius, he’d get it too. I think he always gets his way eventually, at least if my work-life balance has anything to say about it.”

“Not good at that?” Dick asked.

He sat down catty-corner to Danny. Danny turned carefully to look at him, ignoring the twinge in his back as best as he could. Danny would have shrugged if he thought he could have.

“Classic engineer with ADHD problems. I can lose track of time a little too easily.” Danny glanced to Bruce with a wry little smile. “Apparently WE is big on us not spending all our time at work.”

“Not really,” Bruce said with a little quirked smile. “You all work hard, but work shouldn’t be everything. It’s something that I’ve had to learn myself.”

“No kidding,” Dick said.

Bruce gave a little snort. “As if you aren’t as bad as I am.”

Dick just smiled serenely at his father before turning back to Danny. “No one for you to go home to then? No partner or pets?”

“Just too many plants,” Danny admitted. “One of my oldest friends is a botanist doing medical research and every time I see her I end up with another one. They’ve sort of taken over my apartment now that I’ve been in one place for a few years. Some of them are drama queens about getting watered, but I have a little system rigged up for the really thirsty ones. It helps if I need to be away for more than a day or two. And that is probably way more about my plants than you needed or wanted to know. Sorry.”

Bruce’s low rumble of a chuckle felt like it settled warmly in Danny’s chest. There was no way that he wasn’t blushing a least a bit now.

Why was Bruce affecting him so much? Yes, it had been a rather long time since Danny had been on a date much less more. Yes, Bruce was Gotham’s eternal most handsome bachelor, which wow does the city have that right. Yes, other than a handshake, Danny hadn’t touched another human since waking up in the still so weird cuddle pile of superheroes. Yes to all that, but really, Danny should not be blushing like a he was still in his twenties at a chuckle.

“It sounds to me like your friend picked the right person to give plants to. It’s obvious that you care for them,” Bruce said with a soft smile that Danny tried not to look at.

Danny glanced out over the edge of the balcony and down into the crowd. “Ah, well, I try. They’re living things, you know? They deserve the best chance I can reasonably give them.”

“A very nice way to look at it. I—”

“Shit,” Dick said suddenly, softly, and with conviction.

Danny twisted around quickly to look back at Dick, wincing as his back vehemently protested the motion.

“Sorry,” Dick said quickly. “It’s just that it seems the elevator is down so Babs won’t be able to make it up here.”

“It’s down?” Bruce asked with a confused frown.

“Apparently. I’m going to go sit down on the ground floor with her,” Dick said. He tucked his phone into his coat as he stood. “Sorry for bailing on you, Danny. It was nice to meet you.”

“No, go, spare yourself anymore plant talk,” Danny joked at his own expense.

“If any of the others aren’t too settled, I’ll send them up,” Dick said to his father. “But you know how they are.”

“All too well,” Bruce said dryly.

Dick squeezed Bruce’s shoulder and vanished back through the curtain.

---

AN: This part had me real caught up for some reason, but hopefully it's all good (enough) now!

[sooniebby]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝟰: 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀/𝘀𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲/𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴

Bottom male reader. A character I’ve used before. Reader is 19 while OC is 28. His face claim. Lite Degradation. Reader is mentioned to have a cock. Lite dub con but reader consents for most. Reader hates OC so bad lol.. kinda long too :/

“What the fuck?! Why are you here?”

You stormed over to the living room to see your archenemies, Vincent Yamada, sprawled out on your couch. He looked over at you with mild annoyance before looking back at the tv to watch his soap opera.

“Hello??”

“Motorcycle.”

“Tch, you’re like 35! Get a car like a real adult!”

Vincent didn’t even look at you, knowing you would’ve wanted him to start yelling you or something. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m 28.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask, old man!” You yelled as you stormed over to the kitchen. On the fridge, you saw a note that was in your sister, Karina’s, handwriting.

‘Sorry, (Name)!! I know it’s weird, ex boyfriend staying at our place but his apartment complex’s electrical system went out so he just needed a few days at someone’s place and I was the only one with room for him… please don’t bother him I’ll be home after work <3 ily! ~ Karina’

You crushed the note in your hand and sighed. Fuck, you were stuck here with that old man for who knows how long?! You shook your head and decided you needed to eat something before you died from anger.

“You cooking something?”

You slammed the pot down on the stove and bit your lip. “Shut the fuck up I don’t want your old stench near me!”

“….im in the living room.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Vincent seemed to take the hint as he didn’t say anything else. You sighed in peace and began to cook some instant ramen for dinner. The smell of health-ish noodles filled the air as you spilled in some wontons to eat with it.

Just when you were finished, you grabbed some chopsticks only to have it pulled from your hand. You glanced up, god you fucking hated that he was taller than you, and glared at Vincent.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Ba—?! The fuck, that’s mine!”

Vincent grabbed the bowl too and you couldn’t exactly do much with how much taller he was compared to you.

“Hm, I think it’s mine. Compensation for having to deal with your disgusting attitude.”

“I’ll show you disgusting, damn beanstalk!”

Before you could do anything, Vincent placed the bowl back on the countertop and easily grabbed both of your wrists with… just one hand.

He was saying something but all you could really do was just stare in shocked awe that his hand was so large to hold… and properly restrain both of your wrists with ease. You weren’t sure what this feeling was but it felt so.. odd to not feel angry that he was touching you.

His hands were large. Quite large. You could see his veins. Oh god—his veins. One paper cut—you shook the thought away and just continued staring. Shit…. If his hand was this big against you… was… everything else…?

“Hey, are you listening, brat?”

Vincent pulled your wrists up, effectively making you look up at him. Your arms were now up above your head, Vincent’s grip still there on your wrists.

It took you a minute to prepare your comeback as your face soon twisted into a snarl.

“I’m not a brat, old man!”

“Can’t come up with a better insult? I’m pretty sure you called me that already.”

He released your wrists much to your dismay as you let out a whine. You clamped your mouth shut, hoping Vincent didn’t notice. It seemed he didn’t as he grabbed the bowl of ramen.

“Thanks. I’ll enjoy it.” He smirked before walking away to the living room.

You stood in the kitchen for a moment, trying to think about what the fuck you had thought about. His hands. Fuck, his hands. You groaned as you tried to stop thinking about his hands.

What the hell? Was this the first time you noticed just how big he was compared to you.

He was like… 6’3! And muscular… a good amount of muscle. You shook your head and sighed, trying to think about anything else beside your nemesis’ body.

You didn’t like him. You couldn’t. Seeing him always sent you into a bad mood.

He broke your sister heart… well you hated him even when they dated so that wasn’t quite the reason why you hated him.

Why’d you hate him?

Don’t ask that—it didn’t matter.

With a huff, you stormed off—again—to your room. You slammed the door shut and plopped down onto the bed. It was only around 5 pm. How long would I take for Karina to get home?

God, what the hell was she insist to take night shifts?

You turned on your tv and decided to just wallow in your bed watching some random kdrama.

Deep into the kdrama, when the main couple was having their steamy kiss—you (unfortunately) began to think how it’d be to kiss Vincent.

You shook your head and continued watching the drama until you fell asleep.

It was when your door slammed open that you shook awake in fear. You stared at the door in shock and saw an unimpressed Vincent. He glanced around your… more kiddish room and walked inside.

“Guess you haven’t had the time to change it, huh?” His finger moved around, pointing at your more kiddish decorations that looked out of place to your more mature furniture.

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t feel in the mood to do anything. Vincent seemed to take notice of that but he didn’t say anything.

“Did you eat? It’s past ten.”

“Why’d you care?”

You look over at his face, a curious expression on your own. He didn’t actually care—he was just making stupid small talk. But—

His face.

His face when you saw it showed pure anger. His lips pulled up into a snarl as you blinked in shock. Wow. You never got him to be this angry—only one time.. that time you—

“Did you even eat at all today?”

You blinked. How’d…?

“I was here all morning, damn brat. I knew you didn’t come to the kitchen once and unless you have food stored in your room— you didn’t eat a single thing this entire day.”

“Why… do… you… care?” You muttered.

Vincent didn’t say anything. He worked over to you and with great strength, grabbed your arm and pulled you out of bed. You yelled at him to let you go but you didn’t much to his grip.

He dragged you out of the room and to the living room. Vincent forced you to sit down on the couch and he walked over to the kitchen. You stayed in the couch, a bit scared in how he’d react to you moving.

Why was he so angry? It wasn’t like you didn’t eat all the time..

It’s just one day.

Before you knew it, a bowl of ramen was being placed into your hands. You glanced up at him as he plopped down on the couch, staring straight at you.

He didn’t say anything—his gaze straight on you.

You blushed heavily and began to eat, trying to ignore his gaze on you. It wasn’t until you were finished that you felt a bit more relaxed. You were pretty hungry.

You couldn’t help but glance over at Vincent once you finished, curious to see how he’d react. And.. he smirked. Fucking jackass.

You huffed and placed the bowl on the coffee table. “Idiot.” You whisper to yourself.

“What was that?”

“Idiot. What; can’t hear properly anymore? Must be the old age.”

“You really are just a little brat…”

“Asshole! You can’t just call me a brat!” You moved close to him, ready to try and hit him but he grabbed your wrist.

Oh god.

“You aren’t acting like an angel are you? Where’s the thanks for preparing your food.”

“Tch, you stole my own dinner, dick!”

Vincent rolled his eyes. “So dramatic. It was just instant ramen, you could’ve made another.”

“Piece of sh—”

You raised your other hand but was swiftly grabbed by Vincent’s free hand. It was so weird—to be so close to your sister’s ex boyfriend. He kinda smelled like motor oil.

Damn motorcycle…

“You’re such a virgin…” he suddenly laughed, moving one of your hands to his other and keeping it together as he easily pulled you close, draping you over his lap. “You think I couldn’t tell from those looks?”

“You….! Those weren’t looks, damn pervert!”

You flinched as you felt his hand rub against your shorts, pulling at it as it snapped back against your skin. You didn’t whimper—no way!

“And these shorts… fuck, you walk around the house with these with any man here?”

“They’re normal shorts!”

Vincent only hummed as he rubbed your ass a bit more through the shorts. He reached up and grasped the waistband, pulling it down slowly. You squirmed, trying to move but his other hand kept you down on his lap.

“You practically fit your role well… a little brat who needs a good spanking.”

“Span—?!”

You cry out, your body shaking at the first ever slap you felt against your ass cheek. Your shorts saved it from any direct contact.. but it was close—so close.

Your legs were tight together for a sense of comfort as you tried to think of ways to run away. But you didn’t really try moving…

You wanted to see how far he’d go. How far he’d go in fucking his ex girlfriend’s little brother.

“You’re like those small dogs—picking fights with the big ones.”

A whine left your lips as he spanked your ass again—the shorts once again a barrier.

“Count.”

“I’m not—”

He spanked you.

“Three!”

A soft little rub against your ass was your reward. Vincent reached back up and pulled down your shorts to your knees. His hand rubbed your ass a bit—as some sort of prep before rising up.

“Four!”

You whimpered, clutching at the couch beneath you as a lifeline. Your body shook this new direct slaps on your bare ass. It felt so odd to have someone else, especially him, touching your butt.

Even if you didn’t see, you could feel that his hand easily engulfed your ass cheek with one hand. Your body didn’t even fully cover his thighs.

“T…ten!”

You weren’t even sure how you didn’t even get side tracked.. or even remembered the numbers. Your ass cheeks feel sore—this was so brand new and even though your cock was leaking you felt overwhelmed.

Just as his hand raised up again, you began to squirm violently.

“No…! No more! Stop it!” You cry, having no hope that he’d actually stop. But he did. Vincent maneuvered you to sit properly on his lap.

“What’s wrong?”

He… actually looked concerned. Wow.

Ugh, you didn’t like that look.

“Tired…” you simply muttered, too embarrassed to state that.. you were getting scared. You never thought about kinks or what not—so springing this on you was just—a bad idea honestly.

Vincent hummed, his hand moving to rest on the curve of your hip. It felt nicely there. You couldn’t help but blush at the thought… he should rest it there more often.

You blinked. Fuck.

“Need to cum?” He asked, glancing down at your leaking cock.

“Yeah.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow—as if he was waiting for you to answer him. Properly.

You frowned and rolled your eyes. “Pl… ugh—”

“—I guess you don’t have to cum.” He began to remove his hands from your hips.

“No…! P…pl…. please….”

Vincent’s lips pulled into a cruel smirk as he reached over and grabbed your cock. You flinched and immediately began to thrust into his hand, but his hand… still large hand reached down and gripped your leg, holding you down.

“I didn’t say you could move, brat. Take what I give you.”

You whimpered and despite every fiber in your being wanting to move, obeyed his command. His hand job was slow and teasing, daring you to buck into his hand. But you did your best to keep still.

“Y….your hand..”

He raised an eyebrow.

“So… big..”

“This is big for you? Imagine… my actual cock inside of you.”

You blushed, staring at Vincent in shock.

“Aw~ the brat is shy? Don’t be… I’m sure you imagined it—my cock deep inside that hole of yours.”

His free hans trailed up your stomach, circling around an area of it as he gently pressed down on it.

“Can’t wait to see how far my dick print will be.”

You cummed.

Fuck, you actually came at the thought of his dick would look deep inside of you. You shook as your first ever orgasm from another person practically changed you forever.

You groaned and leaned into Vincent’s chest, resting your head on his shoulders.

“I didn’t say you could come… but I’ll allow it—this time. Now clean.”

His grip on your hair pulled your head back. Fuck, you definitely wanted more of that. His fingers that was covered in your cum, was shoved directly into your mouth.

You choked, tears prickled your eyes but you didn’t bite his hand. You were once again too tired to act like a brat. You diligently licked his fingers and moaned around them.

You could hear Vincent grunt as you unintentionally began to suck on his fingers, swirling your tongue between them. Certainly looked like sucking a cock.

“Fuck… you little—”

“(Name)! I’m back, I hope you did….”

Karina’s voice trailed off as she caught the sight of you, bottomless and sucking Vincent’s fingers. And Vincent, rock hard in his jeans and a look of want in his eyes.

Well…

At least it wasn’t cheating….?

This was way longer that it needed to be :( hope it was still good lol it’s fun writing a reader who is actively a bitch to the character

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @smellwell @nakedtoasterr @ofclyde @tomoeroi @remdayz @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @kaedezu @tehyunnie

Special tag for @teyvat-writer hopefully I delivered on a naive brat reader lol

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

YOUNG AGAIN

Pairing - Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Summary - You’re about to be working alongside Cillian Murphy. He wants to show you what costars do behind the scenes.

Warnings - Noncon, dubcon, p in v, rough sex, oral (f! receiving), manipulation, blackmailing, dark smut.

Word count - 1.3k +

Notes - Every time I try to do a drabble it goes over 1k grrr. also i love pathetic men that whine.

The lights were still on, large windows showcasing the beauty of the city at night, the late night budget soap opera running on the television show, your clothes ripped on you. The air was pressed out of your lungs like a deflated ball by the way his body laid on top of yours. 

“Cill…” you begged pathetically, your mouth half pressed into the fabric of the sheets. 

He was kissing your neck, his front pressed against your back as your legs dangled off the end of the bed. Your ass was perfectly rested at the edge of the mattress, his hips planted directly against yours. You could feel his erection hump against your core, you whined and thrashed your body against him, but you were helpless in this drunken state. 

“Shush…” He hummed loudly, his teeth nipping at your skin. 

A few hours ago, Cillian was a perfect gentleman. He had asked you to meet up for dinner since you’d be costaring in an indie film together. You could say it was going to be your big break, you’ve gotten a lot of recognition recently but this was going to be your first big role. Not to mention the first time working directly alongside an A-list actor. 

You were both in London, so you decided to meet up at a secluded restaurant, which started with a simple dinner, but ended up with continuous rounds of drinks. The venue was dimmed, low in guests and seductive from the jazz music playing. 

It wasn’t until your fourth drink when Cillian started getting a bit more handsy. You must have been giving him the wrong impression, Cillian was known to be a good guy. So you called in for the night early because you didn’t know what else to do to deescalate the situation. Which led to Cillian trying to convince you otherwise, a bit too desperately, to keep the night going. 

However, he caved in and said he’d take you back to your hotel. You didn’t expect him to come into your room however. Here you were now, crushed underneath him as you struggled to find air. 

“We’re going to fuck” Cillian grunted as his hands struggled to undo his belt. 

You shook your head underneath him. Everytime you’d plant your hands on the mattress for some grounding, he’d shove your elbows back down. This is not how the night was meant to go, this wasn’t the man Cillian was meant to be. 

“You should be grateful… I’m going to teach you a lot, you know?” Cillian laughed softly as he successfully freed his belt and his trousers gradually fell to his knees. 

“Cillian no please!” You begged for mercy before his hand viciously shoved your head into the mattress

“You’ll take what I give you if you want to keep your job…” He spat as he freed his throbbing length. “You’d hate for me to ruin your career that’s hardly started, wouldn’t you?” He toyed as he lifted his upper body, a wicked grin on his lips. 

You sobbed silently underneath him as he yanked up your short ripped dress to your hips. His hands caressed your soft skin on your ass, gently smacking both cheeks just to watch them jiggle. As he stroked himself, his hand rested on your lower back, skeptical that you’d try something stupid. 

“Stay down, okay? That’s an order” Cillian commanded sternly as he slowly dropped to his knees. 

He pulled your thong down with two fingers, grinning at the damp patch on the fabric. You mewled when he stroked his fingers against your lips. Slowly, his digits ran up and down your entrance, your hips gently squirmed around, but picked up when he entered a digit inside of you. His coated finger slipped out of your tight canal and he brought his finger to his nose and inhaled deeply. 

“You smell so fucking sweet… You taste just as good?” Cillian smirked before he sucked his finger whole. He moaned in his mouth like he was at Christmas lunch. “Fuuuck baby, you always taste this devine?” Cillian asked with a cocked eyebrow. 

You didn’t reply, you couldn’t reply, your body was in shock as you laid stiff on the soft bed, staring at the television to distract yourself, which he only turned on to drown out your cries. He quickly took his shirt off of his heated pale body. “I need a better taste” he groaned as his hands gripped onto your thighs. 

Cillian ate you like a starved lion. His teeth nipped at your sensitive flesh whilst his cold tongue rolled over your nerves. The shock of pleasure made your hands grip into the sheets as if you were holding on for dear life. Cillian lapped your sweetness out for ages, as you moaned into the bed, too humiliated to let him hear your sweet sounds. When your eyes unexpectedly rolled back, head snapped back and back arched, you saw stars as you came hard. You couldn’t hide your screams of pleasure anymore. Cillian moaned into your cunt as he ate out every drop that shamefully dripped from you. 

Slowly, Cillian climbed back on top of you and lined his member to your gushing entrance. His lower face was damp and sticky with your fluids. To which he shamelessly pressed against the side of your heated face. 

“See, this will be fun. We’ll be able to relief our exhausted bodies every day. Destress each other whenever we need to. A lot of costars are fuck buddies, you clearly haven’t been in the industry for long” Cillian explained as he slowly thrusted in his size. 

Your breath was stuck in your throat as you clenched around him. He couldn’t help but to moan out dramatically at the sensation. 

“I need you to understand that this is normal… You don’t need to be so overwhelmed darling, do you hear me?” His head tilted and eyebrow cocked at you. His cock was twitching inside of you, desperate to plummet in and out of you. 

“Yes Cillian” you answered timidly, he sighed in satisfaction and patted your rear. 

“Who knows, try your luck and maybe we could take this further…” He chuckled as he nuzzled your face. Because that’s exactly what you wanted, a relationship with a man old enough to be your father. 

You whined out again, his cock stretched your walls painfully. It has been a long time since you’ve had sex. That or he was a lot bigger than you’d ever experienced. 

“Tell me you want to do this, that you want me…” Cillian exhaled, you weren’t sure if he was begging or ordering you to do so. His tone was a mixture of both. 

“I want you” you gasped as he fully buried his length inside of you.

“Fucking knew you were a dirty whore wanting my cock” he mumbled, his hands firmly on your hips as he lifted himself up. 

He grounded his feet to the carpet and mercilessly began to pound himself into you. He pulled your hips up, your knees now rested on the bed. So you were face down, ass up. Cillian grunted, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched so badly that he could chip a tooth. He could feel his cock twitch like vibrations, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt a cunt this good. 

“Your cunt is squeezing me so tight, I won’t fucking last a minute” Cillian whined, pathetically. 

He stood true to his words. By the time the clock ticked over to the next minute, Cillian’s chest fell forward and hips locked as his ropes of semen shot deep inside of you. You were panting out, drooling onto the bed as he groaned out loudly. The both of you fell onto the bed together. 

Quickly he pulled you onto his chest as you were still mindless. He gasped out for air and said the first thing on his mind, “you make me feel young again.”

Cillian hummed and tilted his head to kiss you, slowly, passionately, romantically. Ironically, it was the first time he kissed you on the lips. You laid there, exhausted, confused and frightened. He brushed your knotted hair to the side and smiled softly to you. 

“By the way… I’m staying the night” Cillian spoke, his voice still breathless but stern on the idea.

[mysunshinetemptress]

I love you

Alexia Putellas x sisters best friend reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst,

Alexia hadn’t always liked you let alone love you, to her you where her little sisters annoying best friend who would do anything possible to annoy her daily. She would huff and roll her eyes every time you would bounce over and ask for her to watch a dance both yourself and Alba had just come up with, or slam her bedroom door in your face anytime you knocked, you where a constant pain back then.

But to Alba you were her best friend who had been there for her through her worst and best times. Alexia and Albas father had died when Alexia was 18 and Alba was 15 with you still being 14 and you had been Albas constant being there from the beginning of their worst nightmare until Alexia decided to shut you out. It was something you always brushed off stating it was understandable you weren’t family and Alexia simply wanted to mourn such a massive loss with her sister and mother in private much to Albas dismay who constantly stated she needed you and Alexia had no right to push you away in that manner, especially when she knew how much you loved her sister.

Alva had been there for just as much as you had for her especially when her sister had began to date her teammate Jenni Hermoso breaking your heart in the process. Alexia didn’t know of your feelings swearing Alba to secrecy but her constant show of affection towards Jenni at the Putellas family home saw you avoid the house much to the older girls delight.

Alexia didn’t think she could dislike you anymore until in her words you “tried to take Alba away from her home.” You had been accepted into the Paris Opera Ballet School at the age of 18, she had screamed at you much to your, Eli and Albas horror, once again you had left the Putellas house on the older girls wishes only this time you didn’t return, instead you said goodbye to your best friend and boarded a plane. A year later Alba flew out to you and never looked back instead she began flying around the globe with you as you began your professional Ballet career stating you need a reminder of home (her).

But now at the age of 25 you where heading home for the first time, you where taking a well deserved break before your next contract started up opting to travel home to spend time with family and friends.

That’s how Alexia found you relaxing on the couch in her family home “Y/n.” You turned looking at the eldest Putellas smiling softly “Hola Ale.” Alexia looked at you stunned “you…you are home.” You nodded “Sí for a while I have a break in my contract so I thought why not.” Alexia nodded unable to take her eyes off of you “well eh..it’s nice to see you.” You smiled brightly at her “it’s nice to see you too Ale.” Alexia let out a nervous laugh before rushing into the kitchen to find her mother as Alba trotted down the stairs “what was that.” You let out a huff “that was me realising I might still have feelings for your sister Al.” Alba smacked you laughing “dios mío, y/n you told me you where done with her the night you left.” You shook your head “I know but Al, I forgot how hot your sister was.” Alba through a pillow at you head as you laughed.

You spent nearly every day at the Putellas house like the old days only this time Alexia didn’t seem to care as much, maybe it was the fact she had her own place now but you often found her sitting watching movies with you and Alba or sitting at the dinner table having coffee in the morning. What blew your mind altogether was when she invited you on a night out with her teammates, “Alba will be there, but I just thought I would ask you know incase you wanted to meet them or just go out for the night.” You smiled happily nodding “I’d love to, eh I’ll be here at 7pm.” Alexia couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach “sounds good Osa.” You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname remembering back to when the word adesoso used to follow after it.

You had been panicking since 4pm on the phone to Alba “I don’t have clothes Al.” Alba huffed “yes you do amor, wear the black corset and trousers you know the leather ones and your boots you look hot in them.” You rolled your eyes “ok are you sure.” Alba rolled her eyes “you could wear a bin bag and Ale would think you are hot.” Three hours later you were stood outside the Putellas house nervously talking yourself up to ring the doorbell looking up suddenly when you head Alexia’s voice “Joder, eres preciosa.” You looked down as your face reddened “Gracias Ale.” You finally looked up staring at the older girl “wow Ale you look wow.” Alexia shook her head before grabbing your hand and pulling you in the door shouting out to Alba that you were here and ready to go.

Arriving at the club you scanned the room before catching eyes with Barcelonas best known defender “Mapi.” Maria turned on a dime laughing as she ran to scoop you up “Bebé pequeño.” You laughed at the nickname you kissed her cheek as she put you down not turning as you felt a hand on your back thinking it was Alba “how are you amor, what are you doing here, oh I have someone I want you to meet.” You laughed at Mapi’s excitement “Más despacio,Maria.” The hand left your back as Mapi dragged you towards the crowd “Mi Vida I have someone you have to meet.” You froze slightly at the sight of the tall Norwegian until she smiled brightly at you “Maria did you kidnap a ballerina.” Mapi looked confused “eh no, this is Y/n mi Bebé pequeño.” Ingrid shook her head “no you kidnapped one of the best Ballerinas in the world.” You laughed shaking your head before putting your hand out to shake Ingrid’s hand “Hola, I’m Y/n.” Ingrid looked surprised as you leaned into Mapi “how do you two know each other.” You both looked at each other and laughed “Ale and Alba.” Ingrid looked even more surprised before you began to explain “I grew up with Al, and then when I moved to Paris to study Alba followed me over a year later.” Ingrid looked stunned “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched you perform either live or on screen you are incredible.” You felt your cheeks reddening at her compliment before a hand grabbed your back again, once again assuming it was Alba you relaxed into their arms “My friends are actually trying to organise seeing you in Vienna.” Finally the voice behind you spoke causing you to stiffen “Vienna.” You turned looking at Alexia “sí, I leave in two weeks to begin rehearsals and then my next show is in Paris and then my agent said something about dancing in London.” Alexia felt her stomach drop “so when are you coming home.” You looked at Alexia confused “probably not for a while, why you aren’t going to miss me.” You laughed half heartedly but stopped at Alexia’s frowning features “of course I will.” You shook your head “you hate me.” Alexia sighed “I don’t hate you Osa, I’ve never hated you.” You wanted to push further but Alba grabbed your hand “Come on show off those moves we all know you’ve got.” You couldn’t help but look back at Alexia eyes softening as you looked at the frown spread across her face.

You had been dancing for hours getting lost in the moment with Alba like you both normally did, although this time you couldn’t help but look for Alexia sighing every time you noticed her talking to someone else before shaking your head and going back to dancing. You stiffened suddenly as an unknown hand wrapped around your waist before someone began speaking to you “Hola, guapa.” You turned looking at an unfamiliar face before smiling nervously “hola.” You turned looking for Alba before seeing her talking to a girl “it’s ok she’s with my friend.” You looked at the strange woman confused “ehh ok.” You quickly looked at the table of Barcelona players trying to catch someone’s eye but finding no one, you couldn’t help but squirm uncomfortably as the girls hand stayed on your waist squeezing it before you turned to Alba grabbing her hand “Al Por favor.” Alba simply brushed you off to busy batting her eyes at the girl she was flirting with “Al.” You tried again only to feel the random girl pull you towards her “hey why don’t we go get a drink.” You shook your head “no gracias.” But she wasn’t taking no for an answer as you put your hands on her shoulder trying to push her off you. You gasped quickly as you were pulled into a different pair of arms relaxing immediately as you took in Alexia’s perfume unable to stop the gasp you let out “Ale.” Alexia ignored you pulling you before she grabbed Alba “Al we are leaving.” Alba turned to argue before she caught your eyes and a worried expression spread across her face “what, what happened Y/n.” Alexia huffed “you would know if you took your head out of that girls ass and stopped flirting with her.” Alba huffed pulling her sister back towards her “why do you care.” Alexia shook her head “leave it Alba, I’m not doing this here.” Alba shook her head not taking that “no we are, you have hated Y/n since our friendship started, you haven’t made it a secret so don’t try to deny it.” Alexia huffed “I don’t hate her.” Alba cut her off “yes you do.” Alexia was getting angry “no I don’t, I love her.” Alba looked at her sister surprised “I love her, I’m in love with her.” You looked surprised at Alexia “you love me.” Alexia turned to you shocked “well….i…..ehm.” You grabbed the older girls face pulling her into a searing kiss “I’ve wanted to do that since I was four years old.” Alexia laughed kissing you again “let me take you home Osa.”

You groaned lightly turning to see Alexa’s relaxed features as sleep took over her body until she groaned at the sound of the knock on door until Eli pocked her head in “Gracias a dios, you grew a pair Ale.” You couldn’t help but laugh “hi Eli.” Eli smiled at you “Papa would be so happy.” Alexia looked at you smiling softly “I know, he told me if she wasn’t going to be his daughter in law he would disown me.” You laughed pulling the older girl into a kiss “slow down mi amor, you only admitted to your love to me yesterday.” Alexia sighed happily “yeah but I know this is forever.”

[suguru-getos]

࿐ soft yandere neuvillette hcs (f!reader) ࿐

neuvillette being a hydro dragon was always territorial of the things he held dear, whether it was his unyielding love for the melusines, or the love for the people of fontaine or the love for justice and the idea of it for the people. this has never been translated into an intense devotion for a human until he saw you. lawyering up oh so sweetly against one of your friends to defend the defamation case lodged against their business.

it was then — that your eyes lingered with the chief justice. for someone who holds a power so supreme — he sure had kind eyes. standing above all, having the ability to shut the whole opera house in a second with the stern daunt of his voice. he was enamoring too… but you didn’t know how enamored he was of you. for the first time neuvillette was getting distracted during a hearing. how your eyes fiercely spoke along with the entanglement of your words. how exquisite.

you won the case & the happiness which made your smile all the more beautiful with the glimmer of victory dancing all over it. you also got a chance to thank the chief justice, too. to which of course — he’d be kind enough and deny. “please don’t thank me. i am just doing my work here.” still, when neuvillette shook hands with you to depart, his eyes widened with the registering of a weird, twisted feeling inside of him. he wanted to protect you for life, mate with you, wanted to be by your side…

it was one of the weird times when it had been the sunniest after the trials. the people of fontaine were weirded out to find out no rains for the rest of the week. despite of the trials. truth been told, neuvillette didn’t have the time to be upset for anything because now he has someone he was invested in.

why waste time? neuvillette thought to himself, he had never approached anyone yet. so? when he approached your door and knocked with a tender smile, with a bouquet on his hands and a sweet smile just to ask if you’d be so kind for a date, you heartily agreed. heart fluttering throughout the date when he pulled your chair, ordered the same food as yours just so he can taste your likes. asking if you’d be so kind as to give him another date opportunity— kissing your forehead while dropping you home. things were beyond golden.

things started getting a little controlling after a first month or so. as someone who had a few friends who liked to travel, you’d find the chief justice of fontaine not so eager to allow you to move out of fontaine. “inazuma? do you understand how far it is from here?” he had a point, of course… “but one of my friend’s family is there and the vision hunt decree is abolished now and i—” neuvillette doesn’t yell at you, he’s too soft for that. “i believe i didn’t ask for any reply to that dearest. you will be here in fontaine. if you want, i can arrange that your friend’s family come here. they’d be given the most royal treatment-”

neuvillette also quickly shuts down any opportunity for you to be talking to someone unknown. it’s simple? he has met your friends in gatherings and they are intimidated and respectful of your man. the others would take too much of his time in dissection of their personalities. how does he stop you? simple — neuvillette gets needy. he would clutch you in his arms and pout. not wanting to let you go at any cost. “i missed you sweetheart.” you can’t help but give in.

he doesn’t do punishments. it is too heartbreaking for him to see you stressed and distressed of him of all people !! however there was an instance where you forgot to inform him & came back home at 2 am with a bunch of people partying. neuvillette didn’t take that lightly. you know this because that was the first time you were pinned against the wall. kind and tender eyes glowering down and enraged. you couldn’t help but sniffle for hours when neuvillette brought you over his knee for a spanking. he hated it when you cried, it was stormy in fontaine for the rest of the week <\3 why don’t you understand he just loves you so much it makes him lovesick!

to make it up for losing his temper — he would spoil you with so much love. it would get hard to breathe under the undying affection he gives you. kissing your forehead, bringing you your favorite food, letting you feel the freedom you felt taken away, anything and everything. would probably surrender and get on his knees, sobbing if you give him the silent treatment.

[hazelfoureyes]

would Alastor have sex with a girl on her period? I feel like he’d like it cuz the blood but I wanted to ask the expert ❤️❤️

EXPERT?! Look what you did!

Hazel imagines….

Alastor would see your fidgeting, the way you crossed your legs and squirmed in your seat while listening to people talk around you.

He’d catch you in the hall, twirling his microphone staff, “Why the pout?”

You’d frown, “It’s personal, Alastor.”

“Ah so it’s related to your menstruation.” He said it too casually, you stopped so quickly he nearly fell forward when he stopped too. Alastor read your face, “Smell, dear. I’ve got quite an impressive nose.”

Mortified, “Everyone can smell me?”

He shrugged leaning against his staff, “Who knows? I didn’t care to ask.”

Your eyes looked to the left and down, “That almost makes it worse.”

“As much as I love guessing games,” his eyeroll said he did not in fact love guessing games, “care to clue me in to what we’re talking about?”

“It’s per-,” you couldn’t finish.

“A broken record is no fun, darling.” He closed the distance between you, “I can smell many things. So why not be forthright with it, hmm?” His head cocked to the side, a flash of his threatening radio dial eyes beaming down at you.

“My partner wont touch me, but I’m when I’m on my period I get so -,”

“Aroused.”

His blunt reply with that high toned accent was a punch to your gut, “Yeah. I already feel like shit and they wont even let me in bed with them.” Your chin quivered, emotions sensitive.

Alastor lifted your downcast face with the rounded back of his microphone, tutting, “Has the hotel run out of towels?”

You shook your head, confused.

“No more hot water?”

Another shake.

“Well I don’t see the problem then.” His face leaned down, back curving to lower to your much shorter height, “I’ve never shied away from getting a little bloody.”

༻Masterlist༺

I think if he was down to fuck for whatever reasons he had, the embarrassment reader had of their period would just enhance his enjoyment. If they weren’t embarrassed, he’d still not be offended by the sight and smell of blood, quite nostalgic if nothing else. 👀

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings

@looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @sailorsmouth /

[nmakii]

ONLY BOUGHT THIS DRESS SO YOU COULD TAKE IT OFF

— alastor + vox + adam’s fashion preferences on their significant other. gn!

— alastor

alastor finds anything that compliments your figure to be gorgeous. he can’t be upset when you’re confident in yourself.

though, if you’re really asking, he can’t be dishonest, can he? he adores formal wear. cocktail dresses, suits, waistcoats, gowns, the way they hold a certain elegance is something that just can’t be matched.

the way they hug your waist is simply too attractive, all he wants to do is eat you up. a beautiful sight like you would most definitely be a feast. not that he was thinking of eating you!

true, it’s not the most practical of clothes to be worn on the daily— but, it’s still a delectable treat once in a while.

“sweetheart, are you ready?” alastor asks, knocking on the door. “we must hurry, the opera waits for no one!” he laughs as he opens the door. and when he does, he is pleasantly surprised to see the outfit you’ve chosen for tonight.

the way formal wear compels you to carry yourself with poise and confidence is something that simply makes you all the more attractive to him.

“my, my! look what the cat dragged in!” alastor joked. “you look ravishing, dear. are you ready?” he asked. he walked over to you as he took hold of your hips, running his claws up and down the fabric and silently admiring your figure.

“mhm!” you nodded. “lovely.” he grins, holding his cane in one hand, and wrapping his arm tightly around your waist in the other.

as you walked, there was something off about alastor. he truly did hide it well, but there was definitely something bothering him.

his breath, quiet as ever, was heavy and reeking of desire. and, his body temperature was off the charts, as if he had been running a fever.

“alastor, are you alright?” you looked to your side. “of course, i am! simply excited for the show, that’s all!” alastor said, clearing his throat. “really? you’re kind of burning up, and you’re breathing heavily…” you noted.

alastor fell silent, choosing the best way to respond. “i’d suggest you not ask that, love.” he warned. “any further, and i may just eat you up!” he grinned as he left a kiss on your cheek, tightening his grip on you.

“oh? should i hold you to that promise?” you teased back at him. “hmph, don’t test your luck.” he shook his head in perplexity. “tell me, would you like to be cooked slow-roasted or braised?” alastor asked, to your shock.

alastor clearly enjoyed your reaction, laughing quite loudly. “wh— i’d like to not be cooked at all!” you frowned. “hmm… fine. only because you’re so sweet.” he shrugged in surrender.

— vox

vox loves everything elegant. whether it be a flowing dress, or a well-fitted suit, it gets him hungry. hungry for you, that is.

the way they accentuate every little curve and muscle is just so appealing to him, he just can’t help his hands to himself!

elegance simply compliments your body so sweetly, he wants to show off his little treat from heaven to everyone who’ll listen. this may or may not be the reason he brings you to every event.

“do i really have to go to this?” you frown as you lounge on your bed, waiting for vox to get ready. “‘course you do. you’re mine, and i have to show you off.” he grinned, straightening his bowtie as the finishing touch.

“come on. everyone’s awaiting our appearance.” he said, coercing you and pulling you up from bed with both arms. “urgh, fine…” you groaned, finally getting up.

vox rested his hands on your shoulder and hip respectively, taking in the sweet sights. “christ, you look sexy as hell…” vox sighed out, biting the side of his bottom lip.

“you know… i wouldn’t mind so much if we… missed tonight, and had some fun..?” he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. “pssh, after i already got ready? no thanks.” you teased “maybe tonight instead if you want me so bad.” you rolled your eyes at him.

vox frowned at your rejection. “fine, that might just bite you in the ass later.” he threatened, playfully slapping your behind, and pulling you along by the waist.

— adam

adam loves anything that shows your skin. short skirts, crop tops, tight denim jeans, no sleeves. anything that brings attention to your assets, it’s all super sexy to him.

the fact that you’re confident enough in yourself to wear such tight-fitting clothes is so downright hot, it might just encourage him to do some… sinful acts, to say the least.

still, adam is quite possessive when it comes to you. as much as he loves you in revealing outfits, these are for his eyes only. no one else gets to see this but him.

that still doesn’t stop him from having you perform a little show for him. for his eyes exclusively.

“holy shit… you look so fuckin’ hot, babe!” adam let out, sucking in his breath as he pulls you into his lap. “do i really have to wear this..? it’s kind of uncomfortable, adam…” you pouted.

“oh, don’t worry, baby.” he comforted you, petting your hair gently. “soon enough you’ll be taking it off anyway.” he said with a cocky grin, proud of such a dirty line.

“pssh, don’t say something like that. that’s just inappropriate.” you rolled your eyes at him. “heyy… but, don’t you like it? you can’t deny that, can you, angel?” he grinned.

and, as you glared incredulously at him, he started moving his hands. his grabby hands began moving anywhere that was left exposed— your arms, thighs, and waist. his fingers traced every vein, curve, and muscle, giving you a sneak peak of what he could do.

“come on, babe…” he said, coercing you further. “you know i could show you a good time.” he grinned.

adam could feel you growing weak under his touch, encouraging him further. he started to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your collarbones.

“just let me show you a good time…” he said, running a hand over your thighs.

“…fine.”

[asilentsongbird]

Okay but Neuvillette staging an entire court case just to spend time around you.

Yes, it's frivolous. Yes, it doesn't make sense. And yet somehow you keep getting dragged to the opera more times than anyone else, just to be found innocent, again, and again, and again.

Your court cases quickly begin getting a reputation for being the only ones that Neuvillette will always show up for.

He presides over them quietly, keeping order, and those piercing eyes stare at you. They stare through you, as though he's searching your soul for an ounce of guilt.

Sometimes, you stare back. Sometimes, you avoid his gaze as though to meet his eyes would make a guilty verdict appear above your head.

You feel as though your luck is going to run out though. That one day, you will be called upon the stage and instead of being found innocent, you will face guilt for a crime you hadn't committed.

The latest case brought before you is a claim of theft. Not that it held any real merit, but a shopkeeper suddenly announced that you had stolen a bulle fruit.

Which was preposterous. Bulle fruits grew all over Fontaine. If you desired, you could find them for free in just a few minutes.

Perhaps that is what makes the guilty verdict so much more unbelievable when it's read aloud.

"Guilty."

Two gardes grasped your arms before you could even think of fleeing. Though it was not as though you would have been able to escape.

The crowd almost seemed relieved over your sentence. Most court cases were found to be guilty, and yours seemed to be a rare exception. Now they could go back to their drama and other cases.

As though they weren't playing with your life.

You would be dragged out of the Opera, and taken to the Fortress of Meropide. Your days would be one in the same, the bleak walls of the cell your only scenery.

"Halt."

The gardes froze, and you did so with no other option. Neuvillette's voice was as powerful as before, when he read your guilty verdict without a pause.

"I shall handle this one's sentencing myself." Bright purple eyes glanced over the crowd. "Are there any objections to this?"

Of course there was none. No one would think twice about the Chief Justice executing a sentence as well. So kind, they would praise, as they always did.

Neuvillette raised his cane slightly, and the gardes dropped their hold on you as though you were made of fire. You could do nothing but watch as everyone finally left, leaving you with the true villain of your story.

Isn't a knight supposed to protect the princess from the dragon? Where was yours? Where was your knight, rushing to protect you from the claws of the dragon?

Neuvillette raised a hand, the tips of his fingers raising your chin gently, until you were forced to look at him.

You could almost think there was affection in eyes.

"Come along, dearest," he said quietly, as though afraid of being overheard despite being alone. "I don't suppose you want me to chain you up right away, do you?"

After only a second, you shook your head. Your throat felt like it couldn't produce any words. The look in Neuvillette's eyes, it sent a shudder down your spine.

"Good. I'll save the leash for next time then."

[vintagehellfire]

Danse Macabre | E.M x Reader

summary: Your best friend invites you to a concert that you're less than keen on but you get much more devil worship than you bargained for.

warnings: porn without plot, plot? What plot?, choking, nipple play, blood play, bruising, oral (m receiving), sacrilege, bdsm, dom sub dynamics, just really stupid horny honestly. Eyefucking, teasing, edging???? Spit kink, mask kink, devil worship. This is just pure filth honestly, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do this with strangers ya’ll pls I’m begging) mdni 18+

word count: 8.6k

Thank you to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading this pure filth for me and for correcting my atrocious keystroke mistakes. I love you so much babe.

part two

How you got dragged to some sort of musical satanic ritual by your best friend Lilly was far beyond you. The heavy instrumentals contrasted too harshly with the light and theatrical vocals. If looks could kill, Lilly would be dead. This wasn’t your scene, it never would be, it’s what you told yourself. Sipping your gin, arms crossed, you scrunch your face, the bartender having been too busy staring at your chest while he poured your drink, resulting in a rather disgusting concoction. As if the night couldn’t get any worse. 

One of the lighter intro songs came to an end before the pyrotechnics roared to life next to you, one of the guitarists emerged from behind the waft of smoke. It was then that your breath caught in your throat, the way that he played had you hypnotised, placing you in a trance so deep that you couldn’t tear your eyes from him even if you wanted to, veins protruding. Your eyes trailed over his body, tight jeans fitting to his body and a uniform dress shirt adorning his torso, long sleeves and turtleneck underneath, hiding any soft skin. As you would be met with a face, you were surprised to find that you were met with a helmet of sorts, breathing tubes and other such accessories adorning it, as well as sticking out the top. His eyes burned red like embers behind the wide goggles, a darkness swallowing the man behind the mask and drawing you in. Curiosity got the better of you, you watched closely  when he stomped to the beat of the songs. he fans collectively let out a wave of screams, throwing flowers on stage. You rolled your eyes so hard they probably should have rolled out of your head. Were you attracted to the masked musician? In some capacity sure, but wholly? No. They just… they knew how to play well and those hands… you could admit those hands were something. You shook your head to rid yourself of impure thoughts, it wasn’t like you liked the music anyway. 

Your face was stone cold and your arms were crossed over your chest unhappily, cleavage pushed up, and the leather of your jacket creaking. That was the thing about you, you’d rather die than remove your prized biker jacket. It was your battle armour, much like the guitarists get up seemed to be the band’s uniform. To them, it protected their identity, and it protected you – you wouldn’t be caught off guard, you wouldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t. Your icy stare pierced through the smoke, through the flames, as you focused your gaze on the guitarist in front of you. His white guitar distinguished  him from everyone else just as your expression did you –perfectly sour.

The crowd behind you chanted along to the songs, screaming about Lucifer and the congregation and whatever other shit you chose to ignore in favour of your best friend. Lilly was one of them, jumping up and down, chanting every word of the hymns the lead singer belted out to the tune of the strong bass line and the chugging of guitars. As much as you wanted her to have fun, you rolled your eyes, this wasn’t your scene. Every song that started out heavy led to a disappointment with the vocals or the rock opera and so you just opted to be the designated party pooper and give your best glare towards the lead guitarist who seemed all too interested in your corner of the stage. He wailed on his guitar harder than you’d seen anyone wail on one before, a flash of worry briefly crossing your mind but you quickly pushed it down. 

The masked man played through his songs flawlessly, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, mind and body completely in tandem; however your pout, your knit eyebrows, and crossed arms caught his eye, he’d stare back at you through his tinted goggles, smiling softly to himself at how adorable you looked when you were so grumpy. He could tell this wasn’t your scene and so during the slow and long intro to a song he walked over to the very front, standing just a few feet above you.  He tilted his head to the side, his mask listing as he stared, playing the intro as his eyes never left yours. 

The small movement caught your attention, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you felt like the glowing embers behind the goggles were burning into your very soul, dissecting every little secret. He slowly points to himself before he gets his queue to jump into his next riffs, stomping away as he pushed through the heavy chords that thundered through the concert hall. You dared not admit it to yourself, but something inside you snapped, a warmth starting to spread between your legs. No, no you couldn’t possibly be attracted to this, right? But just as that thought entered your mind, it shot out of your head and straight to your heart when you saw the man before you strut over to his bandmate. The two bent over backwards together, the taller of the two supporting the back of the man with the white guitar. A cute moment, or so you thought, but as soon as the shorter was up for his solo, the taller wrapped an arm around him and pawed at his cock, tugging him into his muscled body, catching the one you had your eye on off guard. He rocked his hips into the other and rested his masked head on the shorter shoulder, fake panting. He did not falter however, and that had your brain reeling. 

With a small smack on the ass, the taller let him go, strutting away as the crowd erupted in ear shattering screeches, and if what had just transpired wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d seen, you would have absolutely rolled your eyes, but instead it had you shifting in your place, all too keenly aware of the small flare of heat that lapped at you and the proximity of the other bodies surrounding you. You suddenly felt small, trapped; and you wanted nothing more than to run out and dunk your head under some ice cold water. What was wrong with you? Your eyes darted from side to side, hoping your best friend Lilly wouldn’t notice. 

What went on next was just about to make anyone lose their minds, the lead guitarist started to throw guitar picks into the crowd, plucking one last one from his guitar and marching over to directly in front of you. The song they played next was clearly well known but it was only vaguely familiar to you, it was one you would listen to ironically while doing the dishes, one that you didn’t care much for, but was catchy nonetheless. What you didn’t realise was just how suggestive the lyrics were – and so when the man with the white guitar stood in front of you, spreading his legs to put himself in a more comfortable playing stance you thought nothing about it but his next motions had your panties soaking themselves in your slick. A long and crooked finger pointed to himself quickly, then he went back to wailing on his precious guitar just before giving himself a window of about a second to stop, his ring and middle finger very rapidly turned upwards, flicking rapidly as if motioning fingering you, his goggles deadlocked on your eyes. You could tell he was watching you for a reaction, and how you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell. Christ, maybe you should have listened to Lilly when she was telling you this band was horny. Truthfully, you had shrugged it off, what, some singer in a pope mask acting all horny? That didn’t exactly get your rocks off, but the moment you laid eyes on the masked men playing their instruments, all rational thought flew out the window. 

Little did you know that the guitarist did have his eyes set on you, all queues already learned, his body moving on auto pilot, his performance was deliberately exaggerated just for you, his motions tailored to get you hot and bothered. He knew he played the best role, and as the show went on, with the lack of water, and the horrid head, he knew his veins were pronouncing themselves even more, fingers sliding around, fingering the fretboard with an expert speed. Every nook, cranny, and metal notch memorised by the calluses on the pads of his fingers, like an old lover he’d always know how to please. He would pride himself on it, on his accuracy, and he was thankful, oh so thankful, that his death metal band had allowed him the dexterity to pull something such as this off. 

Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his figure, stalking his every move like a predator with their prey, A game of cat and mouse you both played with each other from the stage and the crowd. At this point, all shame was thrown out the window and you were openly eye fucking him, blood boiling in your veins and mouth starting to run a little dry. 

The final nail in the coffin was during their heaviest song during the show, a calm moment before the storm, before the stadium exploded in a downpour of black and white paper confetti. Your eyes fixated on the man before you as the song slows to a steady chug, breathy whispers sung into the microphones. It made your head spin as you were trying to compose yourself, breath hitching as the object of your lustful affection met your gaze. His black inky goggles bored you as he brought a shaky hand up, his other hand chugging the low E of his guitar. You were transfixed by the man, unable to peel your eyes from him as he slowly and seductively licked his hand, tongue expertly flicking between his fingers, his shaky breaths becoming ragged and exaggerated. Pressing his hand to his chest, he threw his head back in a moan, sliding his elegant fingers down the front of his uniform until it was level with his guitar, and exactly in time with his strumming, he fisted his hand and with a teasing motion he tugged at the air. Your mouth ran completely dry as you registered that he was feigning masturbation in front of thousands of people. He had you caught in a trance, hypnotised by his agonising motions, his eyes seemingly staring into your very soul, picking apart every last bit of you - he saw the scars inside and your desires all rolled into one. As his actions picked up, one hand still busy on his guitar, you let out a choked breath, transfixed by the man, ghoul, whatever he was, before you. He commanded all your attention, causing your mouth to run completely dry but it couldn’t have prepared you for his “release”--  letting go the moment the confetti cannon exploded. Your jaw slacked, a strangled moan flying from your mouth as you clenched your thighs together, mouth slightly agape. 

The guitarist knew he had you in a chokehold at that very moment, smirking from underneath his coverings. Flawlessly he jumped back into the song and turned away from you, the game of cat and mouse had become too much, too real. It had only taken him an hour and a half to break you down, but once he did he felt a satisfaction he couldn’t explain, and of course he would try to hide it as he continued to strut across the stage as if he owned it. The reality was that he didn’t want to give away just the way this little game had affected him as well, an undeniable strain in his lower half. If his bandmates had noticed, they had clearly made it their mission to torture him, the rhythm guitarist getting on his knees in front of him during a solo, fucking into his own guitar as he pressed his head to the lead guitarists thigh. It wasn’t until the lead placed a boot on his shoulder to push away from him that the one on his knees relented, the crowd exploding in a rain of screams, and yet all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears. You resigned, the game had been won.

As you tried to catch your breath, you looked over to Lilly, thanking Satan that she hadn’t noticed your turmoil. The rest of the show had you holding your breath, knowing that the masked musician had made it his mission to play games with you.  the show ended, you were relieved, you might have a moment yet to go home and get yourself off, forgetting the whole of the events that transpired. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here and to the merch table before it gets too crowded!” Lilly cheered, sticking her handout for you to take, but as soon as she looked over your face her eyes drained of excitement. “Oh, are you okay? You look a little pale,” she noted, tilting her head to the side. 

“Y-yeah, I,” You cleared your throat, “I’m fine, just feeling a little warm. I think I might head home but you go grab some merch. I’ll text you,” you lied cooly. You didn’t want her to know the profound effect that the lead guitarist had on you. With a nod she gave your shoulder a squeeze and darted off. 

You could finally breathe, the suffocation that gripped at your throat just moments earlier had slightly dissipated. As dirty as your thoughts were at the moment, it was in your best interest to get moving, and so, as if on autopilot, you let your feet carry you as far from the stage as possible. You slipped past the crowd, weaving in and around groups of friends, teenagers reeling about the show, displeased parents. You wanted to beeline it out of there before anyone noticed you but unfortunately your plan was short lived as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and tug you behind a closed door. 

Your brain ran at a mile a minute, trying to figure out whether it was cause for alarm, but as your back collided with the wall behind you, you were met with the masked ghoul from the stage pressing his knee between your legs, pinning you in place. All colour drained from your face as your breathing laboured. There wasn’t any fear in your body, not any longer, and if there had been any,it had been replaced with undeniable arousal, heat being sent straight to your core. It took all your willpower not to grind into his thigh.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The husky voice purred, a small accent peaking through. He smelled intoxicating, like amber and cigarettes, a tinge of iron poking through in the softest of undertones. It drove you crazy, mind spinning, dizzy with want. He cocks his head to the side, his nautical mask tilting, the black goggles seemingly bottomless, swallowing his eyes. The musician’s expression is completely unreadable and if you knew any better you’d say it was like a predator who had caught his prey. Your mistake was thinking the little game you both played was over, yet now it seems like it had just begun. The man leans into you, invading your space completely, his covered mouth coming up beside your ear. “Oh you thought our little game was over, didn’t you?” He pulls back, allowing your caged body some space. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, little one.” His sweet voice purrs, setting you over the edge, hips finally pushing into his leg as your head tilts back, smacking softly into the wall.

“Fuck…” The syllable leaves your mouth as a groan before you can do anything about it. Surely you were dreaming this, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the same mask, the same expression that stared at you from the stage. 

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I’ll have to bring you to the green room. We’ll paint it red in sin .” You swore you could hear him wink from behind his coverings but you didn’t care, satan, you didn’t care as long as you could have him. You’d worship him in uniform, all sweat slicked and bloody if you had to. In this moment you had a one track mind and you’d be damned if you didn’t act on your desires… but maybe having these desires meant that you were already damned. “What, not as bold anymore? Devil got your tongue?” He mused. 

“Are you going to run your mouth or are you going to fuck me?” You spit out at him, a feigned venom behind your words, but they were too lust drenched to be taken harshly. In an instant his body was against yours, thigh pressing into your cunt, slowly rubbing back and forth.

“Earn it.” He growled out, face burying itself into the crook of your neck to pepper both kisses and love bites across your jugular. Your body caught fire, desperate to be taken by the mysterious man then and there. You hadn’t seen his face and you were mildly worried that seeing it would ruin the illusion. Would you even find him attractive under all his coverings? You didn’t have time to think about it before his hands came to the meat of your ass, tugging you against him with a burning desire, fire coursing through his veins. The strangled moan that ripped from your throat was one you weren’t expecting, but did it ever feel right, his strained cock digging into your hips as he pushed your body closer to his. You could tell he was well endowed even through the fabric of his trousers, a heat creeping up your neck at this realisation. 

“Don’t tease.” You spat, hands coming up to grip his slightly torn jacket, his arm coverings hiding any identifiers. You were going off of nothing aside from the little fire element pin that was securely pinned to the lapel of his uniform. Your hands found themselves tugging him forward, daring him to kiss you. 

“Don’t be a brat.” The stranger growled, swiftly lowering the cloth covering his mouth before assaulting your lips with his. It was all teeth and tongues, pure lust taking over every one of your senses, and it seemed to be true for him as well. You kissed back furiously, nipping at his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from him that would turn into a groan as you rolled your hips against his, begging for some relief. “Easy, pet.” He muttered against the plushness of your mouth, a small tender moment slipping through the cracks. As much as you enjoy rough, there was a certain swell that filled your heart in knowing that he wouldn’t push too far. 

Your escapades were all tongue, teeth, and lips, strangled moans, and tugging at each other’s clothes until you both reached the green room wherethe band was supposed to be, however, your mystery man had ensured to clear it before he went out to find you. The only time either one of you broke from one another was for air or to push the door closed, locking it in the process. Both of you were too impatient, a carnal desire for one another pooling into your veins, fire spreading through you both and kindling in that very low spot in your abdomens.

“If you need me to stop, the safe word is Beelzebub.” The man’s husky voice cut through the groans, tugging your hips forward into his by the belt loops. He gave you a moment to process what he had said, but instead you grabbed onto his mask and tugged his head forward, lapping at his bottom lip in order to gain access to his mouth. As soon as he parted his lips, you were welcomed by his tongue dancing in tandem with yours. He tasted of wintergreen and cigarette smoke, a combination so sinful, so depraved that you should have been turned off, instead it flooded you with desire. 

“Need you.” You panted out between kisses, the man unrelenting his assault on your mouth. You were utterly soaked through, and you were certain that the musician could smell you but you didn’t care, not right now anyway. You should have been embarrassed by being taken like this but it just turned you on even more knowing that maybe you would get to live out your newly discovered kink instead of trying to soothe — or smother — the flames by yourself. 

“Do you need me?” The man mused. “Mmm, prove it to me, my little devil.” His hand crept from your waist down to your hips, and from your hips down to between your legs, agonizingly circling your cunt, thumb pressing into the seam of your jeans in the exact spot your clit would be in. “Show me how needy you are for me… Go on…” His husky voice teased. When you didn’t react he spun you so your back would be to him, a strong arm holding you against his body while the other busied himself with teasing you. His breath was by your ear now, and his cock pressed into your ass. He was so worked up that he began to rut his hips forward, moaning at the friction. His moan elicited a reaction in you, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open. The tassels on his overcoat swayed with each rut of his hips, tickling the side of your face. You couldn’t imagine he wasn’t warm in his get up but you were too occupied to do anything about it. 

“Please, fuck, I need you.” You choked out, eyes screwed shut as he teased. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before nipping just underneath your ear as a small warning before latching his lips to the sensitive spot, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. The sickening combination of his lips on your neck, his hard on rubbing against your ass, and his fingers teasing your clothed cunt was becoming too much, driving your senses crazy. A low growl emanated from deep within his chest, reverberating across your back from the proximity.

“Then get down on your knees….” He spins you around, voice low and husky as he shoves you down, a mix of fear and burning desire settling in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your knees hit the ground with a thud and you’d be sure to bruise later, but that was a small price to pay. You watched him undo his belt and pull his zipper down before bringing his hand back up to his face, licking it slowly like he had during the show. You knew what was coming but what you didn’t expect was him to give you one last order as he spidered his fingers down the ruffled fabric of his shirt. “And pray.” An animalistic snarl came from beyond the mask as his fingers trailed into his boxers this time. The man tugged his cock out and began to stroke himself, chest heaving, his breathing became laboured. 

“Oh, god.” You uttered, but the musician didn’t seem to like that. He let go of his cock, allowing it to bounce against his stomach, a stark contrast with his black attire. It looked delicious with the little opalescent bead of precum nestled on the very tip. 

“No, my pet,” he purred, his thumb coming to your lips, slipping past them and into your mouth. It tasted of brass and sweat yet you opted to hollow your cheeks around it anyway, “you answer to our savior, satanus here. You are no longer in the house of god.” There was a cruelty behind his voice, corruption on his tongue. You would have thought the theatrics would have instantly had you shoving him away, but instead it left you craving the masked man, mouth salivating at the thought of him completely ruining you. 

Without much warning, he tapped his cock on your lips, his precum smudging across your lips, and satanus, was it going to be his death. Your dark smudge of red lipstick would become ruins in the wake, the thought of a red ring around his member had his brain short circuiting, if you didn’t take him in your mouth soon he was going to lose it. Luckily you complied, opening wide to accommodate his size, letting your tongue lap at his tip as he slid in. He started slowly, almost carefully in order not to hurt you but soon enough you pushed his cock to the back of your throat, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hands flew to your hair, desperate to hold onto something, anything, and he tugged you forward, pulling a moan from the very back of your throat. You pulled back, saliva building up in your mouth mixing with the salty taste of his seed.It wasn’t something you expected to like but you found yourself chasing it, craving more. 

Your head bobbed over his length, your moans muffled as you tried to take him deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. His delicate resolve broke then and there, slamming into you at a frantic pace. He chased his high, immense pleasure searing through his veins as he fucked into your mouth like an animal, all sense of self control was gone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most innocent look you could muster as you flicked your tongue over his tip, lapping at his slit. Agonisingly you pulled back, employing the aid of your hand around his length, taking only part of him in your mouth. You jacked him off as you hollowed your cheeks around his tip, tongue expertly flicking over his frenulum and eliciting the most pornographic moan from him.

“Satanus, save me.” The man hissed from above you, pulling on your hair to draw you closer. He was losing control, babbling about how pretty you looked on your knees for him. “You are so exquisitely sinful, my pet.” His chest heaved with every breath he took, fingers tangling themselves further into your head of hair, fingernails practically at your scalp. 

You take the praise and you run with it, taking it as a signal to keep going, and this time you move your free hand up his leg, rubbing over his thigh as a tease, a preamble to what you were going to do next. You took his groan as a confirmation to continue, his breaths coaxing you to keep going. You slid your hand up, opting to rub his thigh teasingly, savouring the feeling of the looser material under your fingertips, toying with it before you continued your journey up. While your mouth and right hand busied themselves with his thick cock, your left hand came up to fondle his heavy balls. Who knew that praying to a false idol could be so pleasurable. 

“Oh, oh, f-fuck.” The taller threw his head back, voice gruff and fucked out, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. He was rapidly losing any grip on the situation and he needed to extract himself from it unless he wanted to spill into your mouth. It was his nightmare, his most sinful fantasy, having you like this after the show – a stranger, a person in the crowd. The amount of people that would absolutely kill to be in your position and it was likely that you weren’t appreciating it as you should have been. The man keened before tugging you back harshly, his hips stuttering at the sudden loss of contact from your mouth. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweetheart.” There was a certain level of concern laced into his tone, one that you glossed over through your lust. 

“Holy shit…” You breathe out, pupils completely blown, the colours of your irises practically disappearing due to how clouded your mind was with him, only him, nothing but him, and how divine his cock was. At your words, something inside him snaps and he grabs your throat, pulling you up. You could feel yourself growing more aroused by the minute. How he had guessed that you’d be into choking was beyond you, but fuck was this doing things to you that you hadn’t even thought possible. 

“There is nothing Holy here.” He growled out, a darkness overtaking his voice. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, one that found itself shooting down towards your core, causing you to press to him. The ember glow from behind his goggles scanned over your face, flickering, igniting a fire in the bits of your belly. “Here we succumb to our lust.” He breathes before letting your neck go only to bring his hand down to your chest and massage your breast, pinching gently through the fabric of your tank top. In an instant, his mouth attacked your neck savagely, teeth nipping at the thin skin, tongue flicking over the bites to soothe them. You tilt your head back to accommodate him, your breathy moans coming up right beside his ear as you rut into him. You’re desperate to be fucked at this point, needing him more than you need to breathe. 

He pierced your skin with his canines, an animalistic desire for you taking over him. He could no longer think, all consumed by his desires. You felt his lips trail down, soft as a butterfly’s wings, stopping at your jugular vein before he bit down, causing you to let out a yelp. Your cry of pain turned into a pornographic moan as he sucked and lapped at your salty skin, a small sheen of sweat starting to gloss over you as you burned up. If this was what being in hell was like, you’d have a hard time coming up with reasons to wind up in heaven. Your torture didn’t end there; however, as he snaked his free hand up to your cheek, holding you in place tenderly as he continued his assault on your neck. He made it his mission to mark you up as his but you were too far gone to care. 

“Oh Christ.” You moaned as he lapped at the bite marks he left, but he didn’t seem to like this. Not that you could see this much, but his eyes turned dark as he trailed his lips farther down, burying his face in the crook of your neck before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Your pain was immediately covered in a strangled cry of pure ecstasy as he tugged you towards him, his hand on your breast moving to your hip, surely bruising it, fingerprint embedded in the skin of your hip bone. 

The taste of iron filled the musician’s mouth, his hard on reacting to your metallic taste, pressing into your hip involuntarily. He couldn’t get enough of you - the intoxicating smell of amber and palo santo mixed with the salt from sweat, and the citrus of the gin… He wanted to ruin you once and for all. 

“No, my pet, you are not in the house of God. Only the devil resides here. Will I need to have you pray to me again?” The growl that ripped from his throat has you soaking your lace panties, a choked sob escaping from your parted lips. As he took you in, he noted that you already looked completely fucked out, the bruising on your neck blooming like deep red roses, a symbol of both love and devotion. The only thing you could do was shake your head in answer to him. “Mmm,” the stranger hummed, “your body and blood are mine, sweetheart.” He teased you. As your chest heaved, you examined him, traces of your blood down his chin, and some smeared across his mask, his lips were swollen from the harsh and animalistic kisses he was giving you, and satanus were you ever attracted to him in this moment. 

“Please… Can I see you?” You plead, your hands coming to his waist, trailing down slowly, your right hand making contact with his cock. The soft cant of his hips encouraged you to grip it gently, stroking him languidly as you await his answer. “Please…” You repeated, eyes desperately boring into the void behind his goggles. 

“Oh, is my little pet desperate to see me?” He cooed out, his fingers skillfully finding your belt, undoing it at a painfully slow pace. It was your turn to buck your hips into him, rolling them into his touch. “Mmm, such a little slut, can’t wait until I get my hands on you, can you?” He teased. 

“Satanus, yes, please! Wanna see you.” You groaned, breath catching as he slowly teased you through your jeans. “Need you, need- need- ah!” You cried, throwing your head back once again, eyes fluttering shut from absolute pleasure. It’s then that the man opted to unzip your fly, pausing his animalistic activities to gently tug your jeans over your hips. You weren’t having any of this slow and sweet shit; however, and kicked them off as soon as you got the chance to, allowing him easier access to your sopping cunt. The smell hit him immediately and he moaned, head falling against your forehead, his breathing ragged and strained. His cock reacted, bouncing in your hand and you continued your teasing. 

“Then beg me for it, pet. I don’t think you’ve earned the opportunity to unmask me just yet.” His resolve crumbled with every soft touch, every stroke. He pushed into your hand and you took that as a sign to speed your motions before you pushed him back. Confusion was written across his features, that was until you let a healthy glob of spit hit his angry cock. “Oh mother fuck.” The man hissed out, crashing his bloodied lips into your own, allowing the metallic taste of your own blood to permeate your tongue. You reciprocated, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, granting you access, as he swiftly moved your panties to the side, his thick fingers slipping between your weeping folds. It took everything in him to not take you then and there, your pussy sucking his fingers in, tight and wet. 

“Please, please, I need to see you.” You sobbed out between kisses, but it was clear that it wasn’t enough. The musician growled at your words, dipping his index into your slick and using it as a lubricant to tease your clit with, it took him a moment but he found the bundle of nerves. The instanthis calloused finger landed on your clit, your vision exploded into stars, mouth practically running on its own, incoherent pleas and various iterations of “more” tumbling from your swollen lips. You were finally giving him something to work with, the pleas, the praises. He continued working your cunt, curling his fingers into the sweet spot deep inside you, warm walls squeezing against him. 

“Oh, darling. I’ll give you whatever your sinful heart desires.” He nipped at your bottom lip, splitting it with his canines before he pulled back, panting as he tried to catch his breath, however he refused to remove his hand from your cunt, slowing his movements only a fraction so that he could catch his bearings. “Are you sure?” He asked you, a worry laced in his voice. You nodded fervently, a saccharine look in your eyes peeking through beyond the undeniable lust. Whether you understood he was anxious about what you would think of him or not wasn’t apparent but regardless, you wanted to know who the man you were bound to fuck was. 

With a swift move he tugged the mask off, tossing it to the couch behind him and removing his balaclava. What you hadn’t expected was the sight to take your breath away completely. His hair tumbled out of the bun he had it tucked into, and the messy curls cascaded down his shoulders, doe eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you’d ever seen, and his swollen lips? God you couldn’t even think anymore. You immediately kissed them, nipping at his lips, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, tearing a moan from him, his lust filled eyes expanding even farther as you continued your assault on his lips. You bit down harder this time, cracking his lip. This time the metallic taste belonged to him and you couldn’t help but moan at his taste. You needed more. 

“Please, I- I need you…” You panted, eyeing the man with carnal desire. 

“Eddie, my name is Eddie.” And with that final confession he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you back to the roomiest surface he could find. It was all teeth, tongue, and the metallic taste of each other’s blood. Your hand on his cock and his fingers still working you open, movements becoming more erratic as he practically drilled into you with his fingers, setting an unrelenting pace that he seemed eager to keep up. Your knees hit the back of a couch, and his arm immediately shot to the small of your back, gently lowering you, a contrast to how he was abusing your needy body. Your hands moved to his hair in preparation for what was to come, yanking at his soft locks, releasing a deep moan from low in his chest. His hair was silky underneath your fingertips, few tangles in the way or your mission. 

“Eddie, please.” You whined, flush with desire, unable to think of what you wanted anymore than wanting him. A smirk adorned his lips and he sank his knees onto the soft cushion, knees bracketing your hips perfectly, his hands coming up to frame your face, curls ticking your cheekbones as he did so. 

“Open up, sweetheart.” He cooed. Instinctively you parted your lips for him only to feel a glob of his spit fly into your mouth. “Now swallow like the good devil worshipping slut you are.” You obeyed without question, swallowing down his spit with a pornographic moan. As you did, he took a moment to line himself up for you. “God, you look so beautiful, blasphemous doesn’t even begin to cover it, pet.” He praised as he rubs his dick against your soaked entrance, your hips rocking into him, threatening to suck him in. He hissed but slid his hand down your body, tracing your figure with his fingers, teasing in the most tantalising way, once he reaches your ass, he gives it a harsh slap at which you gasp out, choking on your breath, the sting of his hand making contact with your ass radiating a heat you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t expected it in the least but it was welcome nonetheless. “Behave.” He growled out, a darkness seeping into the word.

“P-Please, Eds… I need - I can’t, please.” You babbled, words completely incoherent. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. His cock? His fingers? Were you asking to be fucked stupid? In all your incoherent ramblings and begging Eddie caught one thing that made his brain fuzzy around the edges. “Corrupt me satanus, corrupt me, please.” Playing into the whole devil worship aspect had him gone, his hips violently snapping into yours, completely disregarding that you might need to adjust to the stretch. Part of him felt bad, but your immediate response was to wrap your legs around his waist, crying his name out as tears brimmed your eyes, mascara beginning to run down your cheeks. To Eddie, you looked absolutely perfect. He leaned in and peppered kisses across your face to wipe away the tears that trickled down. 

“S’this what you want, my little pet? You want me to ruin you?” His husky voice was in your ear as he dipped his head lower, his hips rolling into yours slowly. He moved masterfully for someone so scrawny, cock buried to the hilt as he rocked into you. Your mouth fell slack, tightening your legs around his waist and tugging him into you. “Come on, answer me, sweetheart.” He coaxed, pulling out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours. The pleasure and pain mixed together in a teasing dance, keeping you on the edge and overwhelming your senses all the same. You couldn’t verbally answer and so you turned your head, tucking your face into his neck and kissing up to his ear. About halfway up you landed on a sensitive spot, causing a moan to tumble from his lips, a shiver running down your spine. You latched on like a vampire, sucking over the spot, lapping over it with your tongue to soothe any violent bites you inflicted upon him. In turn he bit into your shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality instead of losing himself to carnal pleasure, the coil in his abdomen tightening evermore. His plan had gone to shit the moment you continued to nibble on his neck, your hands tugging harder at his lock, pulling him further into you. With a slight upward tilt of your hips, Eddie hit a new angle when he snapped his hips into yours, ploughing deeper into you. The both of you moaned in unison before he released a strangled whimper. It was your turn to break skin, your mouth filled with the crimson substance that sustained Eddie’s life. Releasing your lips from the wound, you kissed over his neck and to his shoulder, smearing the fluid across his upper half. 

His pace picked up, slamming into you, deeper and deeper, nothing but the sound of breathless lovers, bodies colliding, and the sweet ecstasy of carnal desire flooding the green room. Your hand then came to his back, scratching down it and eliciting a whine from the man above you. 

“Please, please, please.” You chanted into his neck. It was as if he understood what you meant, his hand coming down between your joined bodies to rub over the bundle of nerves, little figure eights being drawn over your clit. You were going to lose your mind, and maybe even your soul. Would selling it to the devil be so bad? It didn’t take long after that for a white heat to build, a pressure that you weren’t used to building, the coil tightening, threatening to snap like an elastic band. 

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m close.” The man turned his head, kissing up your neck, over your cheek, and found your lips. His kiss was searing hot, burning with need. He chased his release with you, trying to bring you as close to the edge as he could, hoping you might be able to finish at the same time. “Don’t want to finish until you do.” The devil could be generous if he wanted to be.

“S’close.” You panted against his swollen lips, unable to give any coherent answer to him, not that you cared. If laying in sin felt this good, you’d bed the devil any day. “Please, Eds… Don’t stop.” And somehow he kept at it, the same pace, same pressure, same rough and unrelenting fuck that he had been using for the past few minutes. He knew that don’t stop also meant that he shouldn’t change a single fucking thing he was doing, and rightfully so. With a cry, you closed your eyes tight, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you came, the elastic finally snapping, and your release soaking Eddie’s stage uniform. 

“Oh- fuck!” The man squeaked, his own release following shortly after. He could have sworn he saw stars in that moment, arms shaking beneath his own weight. His body fully collapsed on top of yours, your arms wrapping around him tightly, kisses tenderly placed on his shoulder. “So perfect f’me.” He mumbled into your sticky skin, reluctantly peeling from you. His brutal and domineering demeanour melted away, replaced by a certain level of care. You could see it behind his eyes clearly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He cooed, brushing your hair from your face, a few strands sticking to your forehead. 

“Y-yeah.” You shakily breathe out, your voice hoarse from the activities that had just taken place. As you try to prop yourself up on your shoulders, you wince, a pain shooting through you. “Just sore.” You murmured, suddenly shy under the musician’s gaze. You didn’t dare look at him anymore, a twinge of shame filling your heart. 

“Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He mumbled, scooting closer, not daring to pull out just yet. He pulls you up, legs entangled with each other in a pile of limbs, unsure of where one person ended and the other began. He pressed your warm body to his, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, rubbing soothing circles over your back, his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings to you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumbled into his skin, placing a tender kiss over a forming bruise. “That was something else.” He hummed in agreement, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a second, letting himself enjoy a fleeting moment of human contact while he was on tour. While the guys were wonderful and he loved them to death, there was a certain intimacy that he missed in lovers. One that he didn’t indulge in as much these days. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out and you pulled away, debating whether to say anything to him, or whether you wanted to indulge in some more pleasantries. If you were any wiser and more observant you’d have noticed the longing in his eyes, his gaze trailing over your figure as you pushed away to gather your belongings. It was odd to say that the musician would have wanted you to stick around for some more aftercare, it would have been even stranger if he admitted to you that he just wanted you to stick around post coitus and have a drink, maybe a smoke, and get to know each other. 

“Hey, hang on, let me clean you up.” His voice softened, taking you aback. “Come on, pet, I’m not gonna leave you like this.” He gets up only to tuck himself back into his slick soaked uniform, cringing as he does so. He grabs a water bottle from the nearby table and a small cloth kept on the vanity in the far corner of the room. “Come on, just sit.” He motioned back over to the couch and watched as you hesitantly padded over. You sat down on the cleanest area you could find, squirming as you began to feel Eddie’s cum slipping out of you. 

“S’fine, you don’t have to.” You mumbled, turning away from the man. He sighed as he approached you, sinking to his knees before starting to clean your thighs. He worked his way up between your legs, cleaning the leaking spend from your cunt. He placed a few gentle kisses to the tops of your thighs, your eyes flicking over to him as he did so. That was the moment you got a good look at the man. Dark ink littered his skin, barely an inch was pure, untouched, the only areas you couldn’t see his tattoos were the areas in which you had drawn blood, the dried fluid flaking slowly. He continued cleaning you up, rubbing gentle and warm circles with the wet cloth. Part of you couldn’t help but find this incredibly thoughtful, your heart squeezing at the gestures, but the other half of you believed that you were probably just an easy lay. 

“Hush, yes I do. It’s the least I can do.” His doe eyes met yours as he looked up at you through his lashes. “I made a mess of you, darling, and I need to clean you up.” His voice was sincere, soft even, and you couldn’t help but melt. You allowed him to tend to your tired limbs, and once he got to your neck, he apologised, knowing that it would probably hurt. You couldn’t help but stare at the softness behind his eyes, the fire that burned within had fizzled out and was replaced by some unnamed emotion. As the towel made contact with your neck, you winced, earning yourself a kiss from the musician. It shocked you that even after the heat of the lustful moment he was still willing to kiss you but you accepted it, melting into his lips. They were soft, a little chapped, but inviting nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against them, afraid your voice would give out if you spoke any louder. Your hand came up to his face, brushing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before placing your forehead against his. “You’re sweeter than I anticipated.” 

“And you’re kinkier than I anticipated.” He retorted and moved back gently, only to give himself room to fold the towel over to a clean side before cleaning up your face with a gentle hand. “Thank you for indulging me.” He cooed out to you, his sincerity going straight to your heart. You couldn’t help but nod. 

“I should go.” Your voice broke, and in that same moment, so did Eddie’s heart. There was something to you that drew him in, that he wanted more of, that he craved. It flew past just the need for human contact, part of it had to do with the way you ran with the punches he threw, you went with the game you played from the stage all the way to the back room. Eddie nodded solemnly, pushing away. 

“Yeah, uh…” He bit his lip, tossing the washcloth on the coffee table. Surely worse things had been on that surface in the past, but right now Eddie didn’t care about that, not about what was on that table, what would be in the future, or what he just threw onto it. “You don’t have to, I actually, I don’t know that I want you to. Can I at least buy you a drink?” He asked, standing up straight. You turn around, grabbing your pants so you could slip them back on over your legs. 

“You want to buy me a drink?” There’s a hopeful tinge to your voice, head shooting over to look at the musician in question. As you did, you hissed out gently, the garden of blooming roses on your neck blossoming farther across your neck, bite marks adorning your skin like dark tattoos. There was no denying what had gone on. 

“Sweetheart, I think we both left a mark on one another,” he teased, “when you pray to the devil so well, I think it’s hard for him to resist.” A twinkle in his eyes told you it was more than just the sex you both had. “Besides, it might help with the pain. What do you say?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as if you were deep in thought, “only if the devil can treat me right.” You mused. “You going to change first?” You waggled your eyebrows, referring to his squirt-soaked trousers, only to receive a smirk in return.  “Oh no sweetheart, I wear my battle scars with pride.” With that, he pushed back to grab his helmet, slipping it back over his head before taking your hand in his and leading you off to the bar. He wasn’t what you expected, none of it was, the show, the music, Eddie, but as you took his hand you couldn’t help the feeling brewing in your chest; the feeling that maybe the unexpected was exactly what you needed.

taglist: @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower @word-wytch (if you want) @rip-quizilla @hellfire--cult @mystish

[miryum]

"The Box"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“I'm Lex Luthor.” A man strode into the precinct and rapped a fist on Damian’s desk. He was wearing a crisp suit and his bald head had been shined. “Detective L/n asked me to drop by.”

Damian’s eyes flickered up to the man before going back to his origami knives. He had found a new tutorial on YouTube that promised sharper cuts. “Mm, yes. The CEO who murdered someone. Spoiler alert: they think you did it.” He flagged down another officer. “Duke, can you show him to interrogation room C, please?” He waved to Lex and snickered. “Have fun in there.”

“Thank you.” Luthor drew his lips into a thin line.

A couple minutes later, Captain Wayne stood by Y/n as they watched Lex Luthor behind a two-way mirror. “What are you smiling about?” he asked.

“How uncomfortable this guy is,” Y/n replied. “I jacked up the thermostat, got the table all sticky, made one of the chair legs too short, and worst of all, I had Damian greet him.”

“What did you have him do?”

“I told him to be himself.”

Wayne shook his head. “Poor son of a bitch.”

Y/n glanced at her capitan before asking, “Why are you wearing a tuxedo? You look like Fred Astaire.”

“I take that as a high compliment, but I’m not off to sing the number one song of 1935, Cheek to Cheek, which was top of the charts for fifteen weeks and the following year was nominated for the Best Song Academy Award to The Way You Look Tonight.”

Y/n stared at him until she muttered, “I’m not even surprised anymore.”

“Clark and I are attending the opera,” Wayne explained simply.

“Ooh, the opera. Is it the one Bugs Bunny sings?”

“Yes.” Wayne turned away from Y/n and asked, “So, who's this?”

“Lex Luthor,” Y/n said proudly. “We have a clear motive, clear means, a nonexistent alibi, but the DA won't bring a charge because it's all circumstantial. If we wanna bring this guy down, we have to get him to confess right here, right now.”

Wayne raised a brow. “An interrogation with a ticking clock and everything on the line? I better call Clark and tell him I won't be attending the opera.” He pulled out his phone and began dialling. “There's someone else I'd rather hear sing.”

“Oh, damn!” Y/n covered her mouth appreciatively.

“Hello, Clark. I won't be joining you at the opera tonight-”

“Oh, sorry,” Y/n shushed herself. “I didn't know-” 

Wayne cut her off, saying, “it's under my name, W-A-Y-N…”

Y/n squinted at him and finished her sentence, “you were on the phone already….”

Wayne poured over the case file which stated facts, showed pictures, and other minute details. “You're right.” Wayne nodded. “He did it. But we have no murder weapon, no witnesses, and you really didn't find any usable forensic evidence?” He was doubtful that his best detective found nothing.

“The body was discovered rotting in Ocean View. It'd been rained on for weeks and chewed up by coyotes,” Y/n explained. ”The only other DNA other than the victim’s was some bear semen found in the hair.”

“Right. Who found the body?”

“Hikers,” Y/n replied. ”You're really just gonna blow past the bear semen detail?”

“I imagine a bear mistook the rotting corpse for a female of its species and had intercourse with it.” He waved her away. “Nothing I haven't seen before.”

“It isn't?” Y/n stared at him, aghast. “I am fascinated by your life,” she whispered.

“Let's get in here.” Wayne cracked his knuckles. “Start working this guy.”

“Oh.” Y/n clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. “You're gonna come in with me? I just thought maybe you'd watch from out here, you know, pull me out when I'm getting a little too hot, possibly?” She waved her hands around. “Call me a loose cannon. You know, classic captain stuff.”

“L/n, do you know what I miss about being a detective?” He answered his own question, “a good interrogation.” He clapped a fist into his open palm. “Breaking suspects down.” He lowered his voice. “Talking quietly and then talking real loud! Looking away and then looking right in their eyes.” His eyes flared at Y/n and then he leaned casually on the desk. “Leaning.”

“That was amazing,” Y/n gaped.

“So, can I join you?” Wayne straightened his cufflinks.

“Well, a lot of these techniques do work better with two people: you know, good cop-bad cop, crazy cop-sane cop, chill cop-ADHD cop. Wanna be ADHD cop?”

Capitan Wayne deadpanned, “I think you have that covered.” He turned away and said, “let's do this!”

Y/n strode into the interrogation room where Lex stopped fidgeting with his uneven seat. “Hello, Luthor.”

Lex hummed and greeted, “detective.”

“This is Captain Bruce Wayne,” Y/n gestured to Wayne who was brooding in the corner like a vigilante watching over their city. “He's a bit of a legend in interrogation circles. Hey, Cap-i-tan, who's the scariest person you've ever gotten a confession out of?”

“Abner Krill,” Wayne said. “He was known as Polka-Dot Man.”

Y/n’s nose scrunched up. “Okay, I thought it was gonna sound a little cooler, but whatever.” She clapped her hands together and sat down across from Lex. “So, shall we recap the night that Axel Granite was murdered? Friday the twenty second? I believe you were the last person to see him alive, correct?”

“No.” Lex raised a brow. “I'd imagine whoever killed him saw him after I did.”

“Ooh, nice dodge,” Y/n complimented and  leaned back in her chair. Finally; a challenge. “Tell us about Friday.”

“I had a late afternoon meeting.” Lex matched her stance, leaning back as well. He seemed relaxed- one leg was propped on the other, hands were loosely clasped on his lap, and eyes smiling. “A simple board meeting. It wrapped up around six o’clock, and Axel and I talked after. He had just wrapped up his last appointment.”

“And why do you have a doctor on sight?” Y/n asked.

“In case of any emergencies,” Lex answered easily. “We also take blood samples for some of the experiments we conduct at LexCorp, so we need him handy.”

“And who else was in the office?”

“My secretary and driver had gone home, and Cheryl, who‘s usually one of the last to leave, left early because her niece had a school play,” he explained.

“So it was just you and Axel? No witnesses?” Y/n hummed. “That's lucky.”

He shook his head. “Not lucky at all. There was nothing to witness. Axel just wanted to talk about firing one of our employees, Gretchen.”

“And that's all you discussed?” Y/n clarified.

“Yeah.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nah.”

“Zero other subjects were mentioned?”

“None. We just talked about Gretchen.”

“Right.” Y/n squinted at him. “And, of course, there's no way for me to check if that's true, because whoever took Axel’s phone wiped all of his calendars. Except…” She flipped open her notepad and sucked a breath through her teeth. “It was all backed up on his home laptop. Would you like to hear what he said the meeting was about?” She cleared her throat and read aloud, “Seven P.M. talked with Lex about-" 

“Missing equipment,” Luthor finished. Once again, he mimicked Y/n and sucked in a breath. “Ooh. Did I get that right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Y/n closed her notebook and said, “But ‘missing equipment’ hardly sounds like ‘firing Gretchen.’ So maybe you want to explain…”

“He thought Gretchen was stealing lab equipment. That's why he wanted to fire her.” He inspected his nails. “Any other questions?”

Wayne suddenly started chuckling. Honestly, Y/n had forgotten that he was there. “Boy, you really thought you had him with that one, huh?”

“Well, I…” Y/n’s mouth dropped open.

“And you got so excited for it… Let me guess, you, ah, practised the notebook flip?” 

“Uh, Captain, something's come up in the case. Can I talk to you outside for a sec?” Y/n interrupted. Once they were outside, she cried, “What the hell are you doing in there? You totally undermined me.”

“I know, and I apologise.” Wayne held up a hand. “But I'm executing a strategy.”

“Oh, really, and what strategy might that be?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Make Y/n feel like an idiot?”

“No, I want Luthor to underestimate you and fear me. I'll badger him with my superior intellect, while simultaneously belittling you. Once Luthor dismisses you as a threat, I'll leave you alone with him, and he'll let his guard down.”

Y/n glared at him and mumbled, “ If I didn't know any better, I would say you're describing smart cop-dumb cop.”

“Look, I thought you had him on the calendar reveal,” Wayne conceded. “But he was a step ahead. You got flustered, and I realised in the moment we could use this to our advantage.”

“So what do you want me to do, ask stupid questions?” Y/n shrugged dramatically.

“Stupid questions, grammatical errors, lose your train of thought, just ask him to confess.” Wayne listed on his fingers. “This is not a comment on you, L/n. You’re a brilliant detective. I only want to bring this guy down.”

“Yeah, that's all I want too.”

“So, the night of the murder, you met with Robert in his doctor's office,” Y/n reiterated. “Why there? Why not your office which is much better suited for business meetings?”

“He was preparing for the next day's appointments. By taking the meeting in his office, we saved time. And time is money.” He mimicked tapping a watch.

“Right, and did…” Y/n trailed off. “Nevermind. I forgot what I was saying. Come back to me.”

Wayne swept in easily, “now, we did a sweep of the room where you and Axel fought-”

“Talked,” Lex corrected.

“Right. ‘Talked.’ The entire room had been scrubbed. It had undergone industrial sterilisation to remove all traces of blood and DNA.” Wayne crossed his arms.

“It's a doctor’s office,” Lex reminded them. “Blood draws happen every day. Per law, we have to sanitise it.”

“Ooh!” Y/n butt in. “I remembered what I was gonna ask. Did you kill him?”

“No,” Lex answered calmly.

Wayne redirected the conversation back on track. “So, after you and Robert fought-”

“Talked.”

“You left the office, but you didn't take your car?” Wayne asked.

“I went to a bar, The Scotchman,” Lex said. “I didn't want to drive drunk, so I took a cab. You know, like a responsible person.”

“And you didn't have your phone?” Clearly, Wayne didn’t believe this story.

“I left it charging in my office and I didn't realise till I was already out of the building,” Lex offered easily.

“Oh, man, if I go ten minutes without looking at my phone, my pumpkin crop dies on my little farm.” Y/n shook her head sadly.

“This is not the time for stories about your digital squash, L/n,” Wayne said sharply.

“What does it matter that I forgot my phone?” Luthor completely disregarded Y/n’s comments. A look of realisation dawned on his face and he chuckled, “I had it on me, you could've seen it pinging off the cell tower.”

“So you took a cab to this bar,” Wayne narrated. “However, we talked to the employees of The Scotchman. Nobody saw you there.”

“Nobody remembers seeing me,” Luthor pointed out. “It's not surprising nobody remembers seeing me. The bar was extremely crowded that night and I spent my whole time in the corner talking to this woman, Helen.”

Wayne hummed. “Oh, so you say. But when we ran all the credit card receipts, nobody named Helen bought any drinks that night.”

Lex chuckled and held up a hand. “Trust me, Helen wasn't buying her own drinks.”

Suddenly, Wayne’s phone rang and he said, “I need to deal with this. Let's take a five.”

“Or…” Y/n suggested slowly, “I could keep this interview going solo.”

“Yes,” Captain Wayne said after a moment. Luthor regarded their interaction closely. “I'm sure that'll be, um… pretty helpful.”

Once Wayne had left the interrogation room, Y/n sat herself down at the table and smiled broadly. “I have some questions,” she said brightly. “What kind of car did Robert drive?” She flipped open her notebook and suddenly rattled off, “also, what colour was Helen’s hair, which night does the cleaning crew sterilise your office, have you ever been to where the body was found, when you left your phone at the office was it plugged into your computer or an outlet, did you kill him, and what did your cab driver look like?”

Lex rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “This is a huge waste of time. But, here you go: Robert drove a Saab, Helen’s hair was brown, they sterilise on Wednesdays and Saturdays, I haven't been to Ocean View in twenty years, the phone was plugged into the wall, I did not kill him, and the cab driver had a beard and an earring… I'm sorry I didn't get his licence number.”

Y/n clicked her tongue and smirked. “Wow. Very impressive. You didn't even fall for my ‘did you kill him’ gambit.”

“Nope,” Lex grinned.

“Although,” Y/n tapped her chin. “It is interesting that you knew the body was found in Ocean View, New Jersey, when that information hasn't been released to the public yet.” When Luthor’s gaze flickered to her, Y/n muttered, “Got ya.” She laughed and said, “I can't believe you thought I was the dumb cop. I mean, Tim made me watch Planet Earth with the British narrator. I can tell you anything you want to know about three-toed slow-ths,” she said in a farcical manner. “I totally got you to say where the body was found, which kinda seems like something only the murderer would know.”

“Actually,” Luthor’ jaw twitched and he sat back. “Axel’s wife told me. I've been comforting her a lot lately. To help her through the pain.”

Y/n growled, “we asked her not to share that info, and she promised us she didn't.”

“Well, she's been distraught,” Lex said. “She might not remember.”

“Flimsy.” Y/n rolled her eyes. “So what did you mean when you said you hadn't been to Ocean View in twenty years?”

“My uncle has a cabin there. I would visit him as a kid.”

“So your uncle owns a cabin in the town where the bear-semened body was found. That is quite a coincidence,” Y/n commented.

“I haven't been there for twenty years. You can call my uncle if you want,” Lex waved his hand.

“Oh, we are.” Y/n nodded reassuringly. “So you might as well just confess now, or we can take our sweet time like the mer-jestic slow-th.” Her British accent came out once again. “Either way, we've got you.”

“We don't have him,” Y/n sighed behind the two-way glass. 

“Luthor’s uncle said he hasn't been to the cabin in months and he hasn't spoken to Luthor in over a year,” Wayne said, tapping on his phone.

“What about the neighbours?” Y/n asked.

“There's only one other house on that road and we haven't been able to contact the owner.”

Y/n poked her tongue in her cheek. “Yeah, but Lex doesn't know that. If we tell him the neighbour saw him that night, he'll crack for sure.”

Wayne glared at her. “You want us to lie?”

“No,” Y/n sassed. “I want me to lie and you to stand behind me and say, three ‘oh damns’ when I defeat him.”

“There will be no ‘oh damns.’” Wayne said, “we're not lying.”

“The Supreme Court said that we're allowed to lie in an interrogation,” Y/n argued. “Couple of days ago I told a perp I knew Selena Gomez. It had absolutely nothing to do with the case, but I can say it.”

Wayne shook his head. “What if Luthor never went to the cabin? Suppose you're wrong. Then Luthor knows we have nothing. There goes our credibility and our leverage.” He scratched his nose. “No, we need a different strategy. Admittedly, all this dental talk has given me an idea.”

Y/n barged into the room and announced, “We have a few more questions for you, genius.”

Wayne snickered. “Genius.” Luthor slowly turned to look at him. “It's funny when people call businessmen ‘geniuses.’ Especially male CEO’s.”

“I had to build my company from the ground up,” Lex said.

“That doesn’t make you a genius,” Wayne retorted.

“I have an IQ of two hundred twenty four.” Luthor smirked. “Does that qualify?”

Wayne’s jaw ticked. “Have you made any notable contributions to science? Have you discovered a new element? Building up a business hardly qualifies you.”

“My company has contributed to many scientific endeavours, thank you very much.” Luthor’s voice was tense and Y/n’s eyes flickered between the two men. 

“But were you the one actually experimenting?” Wayne pounded a fist on the table and it rattled. “We live in a society where CEOs take credit for the things-” A few moments later, Wayne was sitting in the viewing room and saying, “Apparently that’s a trigger for me.” His cufflinks were undone and his tie was loosened.

“Yeah, apparently.” Y/n handed him a glass of water. “So… now can we lie?”

“No. But you know what works? Making him confront his victim.”

“Look your dead friend in the eyes and say his name,” Y/n demanded, holding up a picture of Axel Granite.

Luthor looked at the picture. “Axel.”

“Okay, maybe say his full name,” Y/n suggested.

“Axel Granite.”

“His middle name's Holt.”

“Axel Holt Granite.”

“His wife called him Axe. Work that in.”

“Axe Granite.”

“Work it into the full name.”

“Axel ‘Axe’ Holt Granite.”

“Now say it with a frown on your face.”

“Axel ‘Axe’ Holt Granite.”

“Don’t blink so tears come to your eyes.”

“Axel ‘Axe’ Holt Granite.”

“Man, this guy is a good murderer!” Y/n cried once she and Wayne were back behind the two-way glass.

“There's got to be some way to break him.” Wayne rubbed at his temples.

Y/n’s eyes lit up. “Wait a minute. I just had an idea.”

Y/n held a guitar and chanted, “two, three, four!” She strummed the guitar haphazardly and started screaming loudly. 

“Yeah, I really gotta stop trying that.” In the viewing room, Y/n set the guitar aside, huffing out a breath. “It never works.”

“Tell us more about your relationship with Axel.”

Lex exhaled. “We've been over this a thousand times,” he said. “We got along well. I mean, we disagreed sometimes, but we had a good partnership.” Luthor smirked and muttered, “he never, for instance, skipped a party so he could micromanage me as I tried to do my job. That's what's happening here, right?” He pointed towards the two officers. “That's why you're wearing the tuxedo?”

“I skipped the opera, not a party,” Bruce said. ”It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, it's the Bugs Bunny one!” Y/n piped up.

“And I'm not here to micromanage anyone,” Wayne frowned. “I'm here because I enjoy interrogating scum.”

“You don't think the fact that he skipped the opera has anything to do with him not believing in you?” Lex asked slowly.

“He believes in me!” Y/n defended before pointing an accusing finger at the CEO. “You're not interrogating us. We're interrogating you. Tell us about the missing equipment! If Gretchen didn't take it, then who did? Because we're pretty sure it was you. Honestly, it could have been any of your employees. They all have access to the storage room.”

“You know, it's silly, but, uh…” Luther glanced up at them knowingly. “I trust the people who work for me.”

“Captain Wayne is only here because I want him here,” Y/n said.

“Really?” He pointed at Y/n. “So you're in charge? And all these strategies have been your ideas?”

Y/n stuttered and then said after a moment, “the guitar thing was mine.”

“And you signed off on that?” He then pointed at Wayne.

When Bruce didn’t say anything, Y/n turned towards him and scoffed, “seriously?”

“I just feel bad for you,” Luther shook his head. “Your boss thinks you're an idiot; that can't feel good.”

“Alright, listen,” Y/n snarled. “You son of a bitch, you think you're smarter than us? You think you've gotten away with it? You haven't.” She wagged her finger. “Imma find something. One skin cell, one eyelash, one tiny inconsistency in your story, and you're gonna spend the rest of your life in prison. Everyone who loves you will leave, and you will die alone! And at that time, it will be your head that a bear has sex with!” A few moments later, Y/n was sitting in the viewing room and saying, “Apparently that’s a trigger for me.” Her sleeves were rolled up and she tugged at her collar.

“Yeah, apparently.” Wayne handed her a glass of water. 

“He just gets us so riled up!” Y/n complained. She furrowed her brows and stared at nothing for a minute before murmuring, “I got it. I got it!”

“He's not answering any questions,” Luther’s lawyer, who had just joined him, said firmly as Y/n burst into the room.

“That's okay.” Y/n grinned. “I have no questions. That's right. I'm about to monologue, son!” She snapped her fingers theatrically.

“You better make it quick,” the lawyer said. “You have eight minutes until I file a harassment claim.”

“Alright, let me paint you a picture.” Wayne strode into the room and stood in the corner, arms crossed, listening to Y/n. “Lex Luthor, CEO of LexCorp, has been stealing equipment from his own labs.”

“Why would I steal from my own labs?” Luthor asked incredulously.

“What’s the point of this?” His lawyer demanded.

”I'll get there,” Y/n held a finger up. “One day, I'm working late when my colleague, Axel Granite, surprised me. He found out I was stealing equipment and said he's gonna file a police report. My reputation could be ruined. We fight, and something in me just snaps, so I grab the first thing I can find and I hit him with it.”

“You still have no murder weapon,” the lawyer reminded her.

“I do now.” Y/n slammed a picture down on the table. “I found a picture on Yelp of the doctor’s office six months ago, and here is a shot that our crime scene photographer took of the same room two weeks after the murder.” She slammed down another photo. “Notice any differences?” she asked.

“We're not answering that,” the lawyer said.

“That's all right, I can just tell you myself.” Y/n shrugged before continuing, “the Yelp picture has six of these glass awards in the background, whereas this shot only has five. What happened to number six?” Y/n asked rhetorically. “Murdered Axel with it!”

“I didn't,” Lex glared.

“You lost all control and you bludgeoned him to death,” Y/n, true to her word, kept monologuing. “There must have been blood everywhere, but you got lucky. You never would have gotten away with it in your carpeted office!”

“That's not what happened.” Luthor’s hands curled into fists.

“Don't say anything, Lex,” his lawyer reminded him.

“And Cheryl would’ve heard all of the screaming but she was at her niece's play. Lucky again.”

“You're wrong.”

“You put Axel’s body onto a dolly and shoved it in the elevator. It's a miracle there wasn't blood everywhere.”

“That's not true!” Luther insisted.

“Now you're in the garage with a corpse. You panicked and left your phone in your office and you don't have your car keys, but Axel’s are in his pocket so you put him in his car and take off.”

“No.”

“You simply can't believe what you've done.” She fans her face dramatically. 

“No.”

“Luthor,” his lawyer placed a hand on his forearm.

“You're flustered,” Y/n placed a hand on her forehead, faux swooning. “You have no GPS, so you just start driving.”

“No!” Lex pounded the table.

“Lex! Stop!” his lawyer cried.

“Next thing you know, you're in Ocean Views, and it hits you: your uncle's cabin! He has a place there. You're the luckiest son of a bitch ever.”

“It wasn't luck!” Luthor shouted and Y/n’s jaw twitched.

“Yes, it was,” she laughed. “You got lucky at every turn!”

“No!” Luthor fumed, slowly rising from his seat. ”I knew exactly where I was driving, I left my phone in the office on purpose, I was in the doctor’s office by design, and I didn't use some glass award that any idiot would clearly see was missing. In fact, a cleaner had broken it a week before!” He leaned forward on his fists, rings shining fully in the dim light. “I made a rod out of lab glass, killed him with it, then melted it back down. It's already another test tube, son!” His face morphed into one of shock and he fell back into his seat. His lawyer’s eyes widened before rubbing him sympathetically on the back.

Wayne’s mouth dropped open and he mumbled, “oh, damn.” In a louder voice he repeated, “oh, damn.” Shocked, the police captain cried out, “oh, damn!”

Y/n spun her finger in the air victoriously. “And that is three oh damns!” she shouted out. In a whisper, she said, “I feel so cool right now. Like I’m in a fanfic.”

[taesanluv3r]

kim woonhak x reader

wc: 1,738

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"what you starin' at?"

taesan's voice takes woonhak out of his trance, the boys head shaking almost comically as if to bring himself back into reality. "huh?" he says, eyes moving to look at the older guy who had taken a seat beside him on the living-room couch. "i said, what are you...staring at?" taesan's words stretch out as he finds himself looking through the younger one's perspective in search of what the boy had been looking at before.

"oh" is all he says when his gaze finally lands on her. park yn, their best-friend sungho's little sister, sitting on the other side of her family living-room laughing about something stupid her older brother had just said. "yn, huh?" taesan almost chuckles too loud, turning to look at a rather lovesick woonhak who just shamelessly nods. "so...you like her or something?" the older boy relaxes into his seat as he inquires, slender fingers simultaneously brushing out the pieces of hair that fell over his forehead. once again, woonhak just nods, not even realizing he's doing so. "but i don't really know what to do about it...she probably doesn't even like me like that" in a matter of seconds the young boy's face had gone from in-love to somber, as if his life was some terrible soap opera he'd catch his mom watching while sneaking down to grab a late night snack. taesan laughs out loud this time, ignoring the puzzled glances from the other people in the room with them as he looked his love-torn friend straight in the eye.

"let me help you out"

the kim boy is hesitant, but he figured he'd need all the help he could get anyways. "okay fine. but whatever you do, just don't tell her i like her, please?" there's a glint in his eyes, as if he were begging for his friend to show a little mercy. the other guy smirks, "of course, bro. when have i ever done you dirty like that?" the answer is countless of times, but woonhak chose to forget about his friend's menacing ways for the sake of maybe- emphasis on maybe- being with the only girl in the neighbourhood that he likes.

and so he watches nervously as the older boy gets up from the couch to walk over to where she was. he pretends to be nonchalant, telling himself it was all going to be okay, but quite frankly, he was shitting his pants right now. but what could go wrong, right?

"hey yn, guess what woonhak told me!" - "what?"

that. that's what could go wrong.

in hindsight it really wasn't that big of a deal, but in the moment he felt like the whole world had just crash landed onto his shoulders. if he wasn't shitting his pants before, he definitely is now. see, the normal person would remain calm and collected, not wanting to draw any attention to a matter that could be played off as something usual. however, the short-tempered teen boy was only a second away from exploding and in T-minus 10 seconds he had already began his outburst.

"what?! dude i told you not to say anything!"

the girl is confused, not understanding why the boy was freaking out or why taesan was minutes away from rolling on the floor laughing. "what? what is it?" yn repeated, even looking towards her older brother sungho in search for any kind of an answer, but he was just as lost as she is. "it's nothing" woonhak stutters a bit, "just forget about it" he slumps back down, the world's iciest glare emitting from his wicked eyes burning an imaginary hole right through taesan's forehead. yn groans, rolling her eyes as she stomps over to where the young boy was sitting, and arms crossed she began to plead. "please~ you know i hate- emphasis on hate- when people tell me something and then don't finish telling me! c'mon woonhak!" she whined, a pout washing over her complexion when he only shook his head in response. "i told you, it's nothing. forget about it!" she stared at him for a little longer, just enough to make sure he wasn't going to budge. "fine then!" she clicked her tongue as she spun on her heels, walking back over to sit beside taesan again.

the lovesick one watched from across the room as she pulled out her phone and began to type something. yn then tapped onto the shoulder of the guy sitting next to her, grabbing his attention and showing him whatever it was she had typed out. suspicious woonhak thought, but he decided to just be quiet for a minute before throwing another tantrum. the teen's eyebrows furrowed slightly when taesan began to whisper something into her ear, the older boy's eyes turned to look directly at him, as if to taunt the boy. almost comically, the girl's facial expressions changed every few seconds, first her eyes got wide, then she too stared right at the poor boy, and then finally, after his friend had finished whispering into her ear, she gasps all too loudly.

"seriously?!" the girl practically yelps, jumping up from her seat to add onto the dramatics. taesan just nods, his face so serious that woonhak can't tell whether he was teasing or not. yn looks shocked, but there's something off about the situation that the boy just can't pin-point. but with the way they're looking at him, almost tauntingly, it's making his blood boil and he just can't sit still anymore.

"ALRIGHT FINE! i like you, okay?!"

its quiet now. the only sounds keeping the room alive was that of sungho's solo mario kart game, and the pitter patter of the drizzling rain outside the walls of the house. yn has on the world's most blank expression on her face, as if she had just watched a swordsman take out her whole family bloodline. and that's when the teen boy realized that maybe his friend kept his promise, maybe he's the one that messed up.

"you WHAT?" sungho breaks the silence, putting down his controller as his little mii character makes it passed the finish line. "is that not what taesan whispered to you?" woonhak's voice is jittery now, like he was about to lie his way out of this awkward situation. "dude i didn't even tell her anything, i just told her what facial expressions to make just to tick you off- i'm not THAT terrible" taesan couldn't help but giggle a little, something about the look on the poor teen's face was just priceless. "oh god" was all he said before he took off, running out the front door in a matter of seconds.

yn is still in shock, drowning out the teasing laughs coming from her big brother and their friend. "what're you gonna do about it, sis?" sungho asks, tossing a spare controller over to the other guy.

"i'm gonna kiss him"

woonhak is pissed, he wanted to run off the face of the earth but the growing heavy rain had stopped him from even reaching the end of her front porch. he lets out a groan, cussing himself out as he took a seat right on the doorstep next to a creepy garden gnome. the sound of the door creaking open tensed his body up, not really wanting to face the truth however, the boy kept his head down against his knees. still not looking, he felt a presence and a familiar warmth greet the empty spot of concrete beside him and a shadow hovering over the ground below them.

"hey" she said, just in case he hadn't figured out who it was. the boy didn't respond, far too into his head and still way too embarrassed from the events that occurred prior to this to even acknowledge her. yn sighed, "hello? woonhak, you there?" growing impatient, she began to tap a finger against his back, but he just shrugged it off.

"leave me alone i'm too embarrassed to even look at you right now" he mumbles, his words muffled against the corduroy of his thrifted pants. the girl smiles softly, a light giggle escaping her lips as she watches him trying his best not to give in and look. "listen, i'd love to leave you alone and let you bask in your teen angst or whatever..." she drags out, perhaps to entice a bit of curiosity from the mellow boy.

"but how am i supposed to tell you i like you and kiss you if you won't even look at me right now?"

the way he sprung his head out so quickly, and the way his face read just about the most bewildered expression almost gave the girl a heart-attack, seriously how can a teenage boy be so cute? woonhak's eyes widen, so as to ask her if she was being serious and not pranking him right now. she just laughed, her eyes closing down into crescent shapes as she did so. "so like...you like...like? me? too?" forgive him for his tone of voice, the poor boy still felt like he was dreaming and all the sudden changes in emotion are very overwhelming. "yeah...i like..do?" she mocks, teasing him in a way that he couldn't even get upset at anymore.

his previous frustration long gone, and just about the brightest set of eyes washed over his complexion. she mirrored this, a slight sparkle in her own pretty ones as the teen pair just sat there staring at each other like they'd never see each other again.

"so..." he says, ruining the moment of peace. "hm?" she asks, head tilting and eyebrow raising slightly in question. "about that whole you kissing me thing..." his words only causes the girl to roll her eyes as far back as she possibly could, scoffing jokingly as she did so. "you're insufferable" yn says, shifting her weight off of her arms to place her hands on either side of his gleeful face. "and you're pretty" the last thing he said before pulling her in close, carefully so that he didn't hurt her, but just as eagerly to press his lips against her own.

-

"so...you think they're like...together now?" sungho asked, watching in disgust from the living-room window as his little sister swapped spit with his friend. "i mean...i guess so..." taesan replies slowly, just as grossed out from the sight. "ugh" they said in unison.

the end.

my first bnd fic 🙇‍♀️ sorry for spelling mistakes n stuff :3 wld rlly appreciate reblogs n such yay ty love u bye

[its-avalon-08]

Hi hiii!! Can I request lando watching y/n perform think of me from the phantom of the opera??

my angel, my haven

(this is super different from what i usually write so im sorry if its shit)

lando's pov :

the crimson velvet curtains billowed outwards, revealing a stage bathed in the soft glow of a gaslight replica. y/n stood center stage, the spotlight catching the way her sequined gown shimmered like a thousand scattered diamonds. her back was straight, her posture radiating an ethereal confidence that sent a jolt through me. i couldn't tear my eyes away.

think of me, think of me fondly

this wasn't the first time i'd seen y/n perform. we'd been together since our karting days, but tonight, something felt different. maybe it was the grandeur of the opera house, the hushed reverence of the audience, or maybe it was just the way the stage lights painted her face in a thousand dramatic strokes. whatever it was, it took my breath away.

we never said our love was evergreen

as the opening notes of "think of me" swelled from the orchestra pit, a familiar warmth bloomed in my chest. it wasn't just the beauty of the music, though that was undeniable. it was the way y/n inhabited the song, her voice soaring through the theatre with a power and control that never ceased to amaze me. it was a voice that could shatter glass and soothe a broken heart, all in the same breath.

think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned

as she sang, a thousand memories flickered through my mind. goofy backstage moments, stolen kisses in the pit lane, late-night talks where her dreams intertwined with mine. here she was, living out one of those dreams, and i was lucky enough to witness it. a thrill of possessiveness, quickly doused by a wave of pure pride, washed over me. how could this incredibly talented, captivating woman be mine?

recall those days, look back on all those times

her voice climbed higher, weaving a tapestry of emotions with each note. christine's longing, the phantom's obsession, it all poured out of her, raw and unfiltered. her voice sounded like a dream. the audience was enthralled, hanging onto her every word. and me? i was lost in a world of my own creation, a world where the opulent stage was replaced by a dimly lit garage, the smell of grease oil replaced by the sweet scent of her hair. in that world, it wasn't christine pining for a masked figure, it was y/n, my y/n, captivating me with her talent and her love.

but please promise me that sometimes, you will think of me

the final note faded, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. then, as if a dam had broken, the applause erupted. it was a thunderous roar that shook the very foundation of the building. a wide smile bloomed on y/n's face, as radiant as the spotlight itself. as she caught my eye and smiled i felt all the stars align. in that moment, i knew. no matter what challenges life threw our way, no matter how bright her star might shine, she would always find her way back to me. and i, the luckiest man alive, would be waiting.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

thanks for reading and sending in your request! do send in more! 🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[jedijesi]

Phantom of the Spider Society

Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Main Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, PiV, breeding kink, mask kink, size kink, choking, multiple orgasms, possessiveness, overstimulation

Word Count: 4k

Summary: You and Miguel celebrate Halloween with the Parkers dressed as The Phantom of the Opera and Christine, but seeing how incredible you are with Mayday, makes him realize he wants a family with you.

A/N: This is dedicated to @stclairesplace! All credit for the art goes to Marbipa on twitter! Happy Halloween!

The last time Miguel celebrated Halloween was with Gabriella, and before that, it was during his childhood. As he shared this with you, you couldn't hide your shock and disbelief. Halloween was, without a doubt, one of your favorite times of the year. The thought of not fully embracing the magic and fun of the season was almost inconceivable to you.

After months of pleading and coaxing your grumpy fiance, he finally agreed to join you in celebrating Halloween together in a couple’s costume. The excitement and anticipation in your heart were hard to contain, immediately meeting with LYLA to create your costumes. 

"We've got to go, Mig!" you shouted from the living room, the excitement in your voice evident. "Peter B said Trick o' Treaters are gonna show up around now!"

"I feel ridiculous," Miguel grunted from behind the closed door.

"Just open the door and let me see," you urged with a playful tone.

The door creaked open, revealing the tall, muscular man who had reluctantly agreed to dress up for Halloween. Your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes studied the way his muscles were prominent in the tight button-up shirt and vest. The white mask, covering half of his face, added a sexy air of mystery to his ensemble. Miguel might have felt ridiculous, but you couldn't help but feel a rush of desire as you took in his costume. 

“Phantom of the Opera? Really?” He teased. 

You closed the gap, allowing your fingers to come up and dance across his chest. “Mmhmm.” You hummed, distracted by how hot he looked. 

As Miguel stood there, his mind wandered away from his costume, and instead, he found himself studying your form. The way your breasts looked, pushed up by the corset you wore, left him in awe. "Mí Hermosa," Miguel whispered, his gloved hand tenderly cupping your cheek. "You're breathtaking," he murmured, his voice like a sweet melody in your ears.

Miguel slowly bent down, his lips seeking yours in a long and passionate kiss. His tongue gently nudged your lip, silently begging for entrance, and you willingly accepted, your mouths entwined in desire. The kiss quickly escalated, growing heated as your tongues explored each other with a hunger that couldn't be denied. The moan that escaped your lips blended with Miguel's. You could feel his cock grow hard in his pants against you, making you even more wet.

Reluctantly, you broke the kiss, though Miguel's lips continued to protest, capturing stolen kisses as you tried to regain your breath. "Miguel," you whined, your body quivering under his touch as he left hickies on your neck. "We can't," you moaned.

With all of his might, Miguel slowly backs away. “We should cancel.” He says breathlessly. 

While canceling to fuck Miguel all night long sounded incredible, you shook your head no. “It’s Mayday’s first Halloween- it's our first Halloween. We gotta go.” Your frown matches Miguel’s.

“Fine.” He sighs, giving a tug to his trousers to relieve the pressure his hard-on was giving him. As you turn to grab the red rose to put in your hair, Miguel smacks your ass, unable to control himself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Queen, New York 

Mayday's high-pitched screams filled the air as the hexagonal portal crackled to life in the hallway of the house. 

"Hey!" Peter B shouted from the kitchen, his voice full of enthusiasm. "I'm glad you two could make it!"

As you and Miguel emerged from the portal, Peter B greeted you with open arms, his superhuman strength making the hug. He swept you up into an embrace, the excitement of the moment evident in his cheerful demeanor. 

"Hi, Peter!" you giggled as you dangled in the air.

"Oooo! Phantom of the Opera?" MJ asked as she greeted you, her eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Mmhmm!" You nodded with a mischievous smile. "Specifically, The Point of No Return scene." You gestured to your costume, complete with dramatic makeup and Miguel’s mask.

Miguel couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as he took in the Parker’s costumes. "And what the fu- heck are you two supposed to be?" he asked, a reminder that there was a little girl at his feet.

Peter proudly lifted Mayday, showing her off. “Chucky!” Her wild red hair styled matched the murderous doll's. 

MJ joined in, her voice playful. "So were her murder victims." She gestured to the plastic knives attached to their outfits, and fake blood dripping down their clothes.

Miguel slowly nodded, a mixture of amusement and unease in his expression. "That's a little creepy," he admitted, his eyes darting between the costumed trio. 

DING DONG

Miguel smiled as he watched your face light up in the corner of his eye. “Trick or treaters!” You cheered. 

For the rest of the night, you and Miguel took on the role of generous candy distributors, welcoming dozens upon dozens of excited children to the house as Peter and MJ took Mayday trick or treating. Your eyes sparkled with delight every time you spotted someone in costumes that resembled either yours or Miguel’s suits. You couldn't resist sneaking extra candy into their buckets, making Miguel chuckle each time. Miguel's heart swelled with affection as he watched you interact with the children, your playful nature and quick wit making them laugh and filling their faces with the most enormous smiles. He was captivated by your ability to connect with the young ones, and he couldn't help but imagine how incredible of a mother you would be one day.

As the night wore on, Peter B and MJ came home to make dinner. While they had their hands full, you hoped on Mayday duty. Miguel found himself admiring you even more. You had a natural way with Mayday as she would babble to you about nothing which you happily responded to converse together. 

“Oh, I hear that!” You nodded your head in agreement as Mayday made angry noises.

“I agree! Your mom and dad are very selfish for eating your candy.” She continues to make random noises. 

“Well to play devil’s advocate, I have heard a few rumors that you’ve been biting mom’s nipples.” You say giving her a playful scolding. “Maybe she deserves a fun-sized Snickers or two.”

Mayday screams before continuing her rant. “Hey, don’t get mad at me, I’m on your side, girlfriend!” 

Amid the absurd conversation and playful banter, Miguel watched you from the other side of the room, his attention seemingly focused on Peter B's storytelling. But in reality, he was captivated by the way you effortlessly engaged with Mayday's imaginative nonsense.

He couldn't help but smile as he observed you, your eyes filled with amusement and affection as you encouraged and entertained the baby. It was a simple yet heartwarming sight that warmed his heart.

At one point, you found yourself dancing in the living room, holding a peacefully sleeping Mayday in your arms. Miguel couldn't resist the tender moment and walked up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. The two of you swayed together in this intimate moment, the love and warmth enveloping you like a cozy embrace. 

To intensify the tenderness and affection in this moment, let's add more detail and emotion:

"I love you," Miguel whispered, his voice a gentle caress, as he held you in his arms, careful not to wake the peacefully sleeping baby.

You leaned your head further back, your ear pressed against his chest, allowing you to hear the rhythmic beating of his heart. "I love you, mi amor," you softly replied, your voice filled with warmth and love.

Carefully, you turned in his embrace, making eye contact with his handsome, half-masked face. A soft smile formed on Miguel's lips as he leaned down, his eyes filled with tenderness, and pressed a tender kiss to your lips. The world seemed to fade away in that moment, leaving only the two of you. 

“Hey- oh sorry!” Peter covers his eyes as he interrupts your kiss. 

“Yes?” Miguel says with a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

“I was just gonna put Mayday down for the night while MJ stuffs her face with the leftover candy.” He says as he carefully takes the baby from your arms. “Thank you two again for helping out. Maybe we can do this again next time.” 

“Of course, Pete.” You smile before putting the coordinate in your watch to go back home. “We should get going anyways.” 

As the portal opened beside you, you walked up to Peter, affectionately kissing his cheek, and then Mayday's, who was still peacefully sleeping in his arms. Miguel gave Peter a nod of goodbye, a silent expression of gratitude for the memorable Halloween.

Before you and Miguel stepped into the portal, Peter spoke up with a mischievous grin. "Maybe next year, you guys will have a friend for Mayday to play with." 

Peter’s playful comment caused a sudden rise of heat in your and Miguel's faces, the idea of expanding your family together making your hearts beat a little faster. With a shared glance and a knowing smile, you and Miguel stepped through the portal, leaving Peter and Mayday behind, his chuckle following you as you through.

As the two of you emerged from the portal, returning to the familiar living room of your penthouse, you couldn't help but turn around and jump on your tiptoes to reach Miguel's cheek. With a swift and gentle motion, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, catching the Spider-Man by surprise.

"Thank you for tonight," you whispered, your voice filled with warmth and tenderness. 

As you turned to walk toward the bedroom, Miguel's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, causing you to twirl around to face him. Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, his lips were on yours in a fiery and passionate kiss. The unexpected surge of desire and longing between you and Miguel ignited in that moment, the pent-up emotions from the night and the intensity of his desire, emitted through his lips. 

"I wanna have a family with you," Miguel whispered against your lips, his voice filled with heartfelt longing.

You broke the kiss, your eyes filled with surprise and delight. "R-really?" you stammered, your heart pounding with emotion.

Miguel nodded, his smile growing wider with each passing moment. "Yes, mi amor. I love you more than anything. Seeing you with Mayday made me realize, I can’t wait any longer." His gaze was filled with love and hope. "What do you say?"

Your response was immediate, and your voice was filled with elation. "Yes!" you cheered, unable to contain your excitement. "I want it; I wanna have a family with you."

Miguel reciprocated your gleaming smile, his eyes shining with happiness and love. Without hesitation, he lifted you into his arms, holding you close as you’re lips molded together. Your legs wrapped around Miguel’s hips, trying to get as close as possible as he walked to of you to the bedroom. 

As Miguel’s knees feel the bed in front of him, he slowly leans forward, to lay you on the bed. “Mine.” He moans as his lips move down to your neck. 

Your moans cause Miguel’s cock to grow harder. Needing relief, he ruts against your clothed pussy. The sensation of him against your clit makes you gasp. 

“Fuck, Mig!” You moan, bucking your hips for more.

“Patience.” He growls, biting and sucking your neck as his hands work to unlace the corset. 

Miguel’s lips move to the top of your breasts, nipping at the soft skin. As he grows frustrated with the string of the corset, he gunts before saying, “I’m sorry, Hermosa. It was a beautiful costume.” You quirk your brow in confusion until sudden and loud tears fill the room as Miguel tears the corset and dress in half in one go before your panties. 

You gasp in shock, only for it to become a moan as lips make quick work of your nipples. His mouth and tongue focus on one while his hand pinches and flicks the other before trading. 

“Baby,” You whine. 

“Yes, baby girl?” 

“I need more.” You beg. 

Miguel looks up at you as he sucks on your nipple. “Yeah? What do you need?” 

“I need you to play with me.” 

“I am.” He replies with a devious smirk. 

“Fuck, baby, I need you to fuck me!” 

Miguel shakes his head, bringing his lips back up to yours. “You're not ready for me, yet, pretty girl.” 

You whimper as Miguel continues to rut into your core. Your hands move up to unbutton the tight vest and shirt as he passionately kisses your lips. Once his muscular chest and abs are exposed, your hands move south, tracing his v-line. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Miguel smirks into the kiss as your fingers attempt to unbutton his trousers. “These…” He takes your wrists into his hands. “Stay here.” He demands as he places them above your head. 

As Miguel moves to take the mask off, you stop him. “Wait!” He cocks his head to the side in confusion. “C-can you keep it on?” You ask timidly.

Miguel smirks as he places it back over the side of his face. “You want me to fuck you in the mask?” He hums, causing your walls to flutter with excitement,

“Ye-yes, please.” 

“Alright then, Chiquita,” Miguel whispers pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

Agonizingly slow, Miguel kisses down your naked body once again. “Fuck, Miguel.” You whine again as he massages your thighs. 

He grins as become level with your soaked pussy. “Look at you, baby girl, you’re dripping for me!” Miguel groans as he licks his lips.

“Please,” You whimper, feeling his warm breath on your sensitive clit. 

“Please, what?” Miguel innocently teases. “I can’t do anything until you tell me exactly what you want.” 

“Please play with my clit! Make me cum all over your face and fingers! I need it!” You whine.

“Good girl,” Miguel growls before diving into your wet cunt, lapping up every drop of your arousal. “Fuck!” He moans into you as you squirm beneath him. “You taste so fucking good.”

Your legs shook with pleasure on Miguel’s shoulders. He ate you out like you were his last meal. “Ah, oh, fuck! Just like that!” You screamed as your hands gripped the bed sheets. 

“Yeah?” Miguel moans into your clit, the vibrations adding to the stimulation. “You want my fingers, baby?” He asks as he teasingly guides a finger up and down the entrance of your pussy.

“Yes!” You beg. “Please, Miguel, plea- ah!” Miguel cuts you off, shoving his thick middle and ring finger into your soaking pussy. 

Having memorized every inch of your body, he curls his fingers to play with your G-spot. He doesn't need to ask if he found it as your intensified moans and the way you arch your back into him, are enough to know he’s making you feel incredible. 

“Come on, baby girl. I know you're getting close.” He says as his tongue flicks your clit. “I can feel your pretty pussy getting so tight for me.” 

“Oh! Oh, fuck, Miguel! I’m so- so close, baby! Don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling your orgasm nearing even closer. 

“You can do it. Cum all over my fingers.” Miguel demands. “I need it. I need to taste you. I need to feel you cum around for me.”

Miguel’s words of encouragement are enough to break you, sending pleasure coursing through your body. Your moans echo through the penthouse, loud enough for any passing Spider-Person to hear how good Miguel is making you feel. 

“Good girl.” Miguel coos as you calm down from your high. “So good for me.” He crawls back up your body to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. 

“I love you.” You moan into his lips. 

“I love you.” He replies before flipping you over onto your stomach. You let out a gasp in surprise as Miguel manhandles you. With your face in the bed and ass in the air, you feel his hands run along your skin, massaging and worshiping your body. “You’re so fucking perfect.” His voice was deep with lust. “Are you ready to take me, Hermosa?” 

A shiver runs down your spine as you hear Miguel take his pants off and feel the head of his cock teasing your entrance. “Yes, baby, I need you to fill me up.”

“Good girl.” He groans as he pushes the head in. 

It was hard to get used to Miguel’s size. His thick cock made you feel like a virgin each time he fucked you. He always took his time at the beginning, knowing you needed help taking all of him. After giving you a minute to adjust to his size, Miguel begins to slowly pump in and out. His head fell back in pleasure. He loved how tight and wet you are for him. Your moans, your body, your pussy, it was all so addictive. 

“Fuck, baby,” Miguel moaned as he began to pick up pace. “You're so fucking tight!” 

As much as you wanted to reply, you couldn’t, all you could do was drool and moan into the duve of your shared bed. His cock was deep inside of you, abusing your G-spot. Miguel had never fucked you like this before. It was different, it was passionate and desperate, and he had a mission. 

“Baby,” Your voice was muffled as you were being fucked into the bed. “I- I’m so close.” You cried.

“You better fucking come for me.” Miguel reached down, wrapping his hand around your throat to keep your face out of the bed. “I wanna hear you scream my name, understand?”

“Y-yes!” You screamed as Miguel’s free hand moved from your ass to your swollen and sensitive clit. “Fuck!” You cried. “I’m cumming, Mig- Oh, fuck! I’m cumming, Miguel!” 

Your pussy throbbed around Miguel’s cock, but he didn't stop. Suddenly, Miguel pulled out and flipped you onto your back. “Come here, baby girl.” He growled as he picked you up and moved to the wall-length window of the room. The city skyline illuminated your faces as Miguel slowly lowered you onto his cock. 

The new angle caused you to let out a deep moan. “Oh- Ah! Miguel!” You screamed as Miguel suddenly went back to relentlessly fucking your sensitive pussy. 

Miguel bit his lip as he watched you moan for him and felt your cum dripping down his cock. “That’s it, baby.” He moaned. “I need you to cum for me again, okay.”

Your limbs shook and twitched with the overwhelming amount of pleasure surging through your body. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.” You whined.

“I know, I know,” Miguel huffed. “Hang in there a little longer, your gonna feel so fucking good.” 

Miguel could feel himself becoming all the more relentless as you started kissing his neck, his weak spot. The feeling of your tongue and lips working to mark him made his cock twitch. You felt it, you felt how much you turned him on. 

“I need to cum.” You whimper against his neck. 

“Cum.” He demands. 

That's all it took for you to unravel on his cock once again. Miguel tried to hold off as best she could, but it was more difficult than he thought. He bit his lip, trying not to cum as your pussy throbbed and your moans sang his name. 

As you came down from your high, Miguel walked back to the bed. He carefully lays you on your back with his cock hard inside you. He took your legs and laid them on his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

Miguel smirks down at you, feeling your pussy clench around him. “You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you, baby girl?” Miguel purrs as he slowly rolls his hips, the head of his cock, brushing against your G-spot. 

“Mmhmm.” Your eyes roll back in your head. 

As Miguel slowly pumps in and out he says, “This time, I’m gonna fill you up with all of my cum. I’m gonna put a baby in you, Hermosa. Can you take my cum, pretty thing?”

Miguel’s voice was laced with lust, you couldn’t help but buck back into him. You may have cum three times already, but you needed it again. “Give me your cum.” Your eyes, heavy with lust look into his. 

Before you knew it, Miguel was pounding on you. He loved watching your breasts bounce as he fucked you against his cock. “Oh fuck.” He moaned. “I need you so badly. I’m gonna cum so much.” 

“Yes, yes, yes, I need it!” Your pleas made Miguel’s cock twitch, cum leaking out as he struggled to keep his load, his cock aching with cum. 

“Shit! I- I need to cum, mí vida!” Miguel fell forward, trying to fuck you as deep as possible. With your knees now on his shoulder, you screamed. The new angle was even deeper than the others, exploring parts of you that were his. “Mine.” He growled in your ear, causing your walls to tighten even more. 

“Ungh! Mi-Mig, I can’t hold it- ah! Fuck, I need to cum!” Tears from pleasure and overstimulation began to run down your cheek.

“Fuck! Cum with me, mí vida!” Miguel grunts. “I’m gonna fill you up.”

You cum around his cock, screaming Miguel’s name. Your powerful orgasm triggers Miguel’s. With animalistic grunts, cums, filling your pussy full of his warm cum. He slowly fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure and making sure every drop was inside of you.

The two of you remained entwined in each other for a while, your breaths still heavy and labored from the intensity of your lovemaking. You pressed lazy kisses to each other's damp skin, savoring the taste and feel of each other. Whispers of sweet nothings were exchanged in between the tender kisses, the words flowing effortlessly from your lips as an expression of the overwhelming emotions you two felt in the moment. The sentiment was shared every few seconds, a constant affirmation of the boundless love that could hardly be contained within the walls of your shared space. 

After a few perfect moments like this, Miguel slowly and carefully pulls out before taking off the mask and lying beside you. Miguel wrapped you in his strong arms, holding you close and secure, allowing you to rest your head against his chest. As you lay there, you listened to the beautiful rhythm of his beating heart, each steady thud like a soothing melody that resonated through your entire being.

In the warmth and safety of his embrace, you felt a profound sense of peace and belonging. "We gotta start thinking of some family costumes for next Halloween," Miguel whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that broke the comfortable silence between you.

You let out a giggle at his words, the idea of family costumes filling you with excitement. "Yeah?" you responded, your voice filled with playful curiosity.

Miguel nodded, his eyes shining with affection and a touch of mischief, even as exhaustion threatened to overtake him. "The O'Hara's costumes need to beat the Parkers," he said with a smirk.

You couldn't help but smile at his playfulness. Looking up into his eyes, you whispered, "I love you, Miguel."

Miguel leaned in, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. "I love you, mi vida.”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! This was inspired by my bestie @stclairesplace ilysm! ur my muse!

[bigtedbear]

“ 𝐥’𝐚𝗺𝗼𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞 𝗺𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐞 “

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭: 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝗼 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝗼𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝗼 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝗼𝐟𝐟

content warning: quite literally no warnings, married life, two old men, complete tooth-rotting fluff, male reader, dragon male reader, this is a part two, large family, a lot of sisters, most of this is character building, can they kiss already

Part 1 here: " serein "

" welcome back, caller @juiceedapplee! connecting your line as we speak! "

"Cornelia, do you happen to know where the Iudex has snuck off to? He promised he would meet with me for lunch."

You felt slightly bad when one of the many assistants around his office nearly dropped the stack of papers she'd been carrying and fumbled to stand at full attention. One of the many things the assistants around the building had yet to get used to; your near silent footsteps when you loitered around your husband's office.

Just as quickly as she nearly dropped her papers, you were lunging forward to support the back of the stack with your palms. She stuttered over her tongue for a moment, seemingly knotting it up in the process. It took her a second before she finally managed to spit out a quiet, "I believe his grace was headed down to the gardens, I overhead him mentioning it to Sedene around the time when he usually takes his lunchbreak."

There was a pause before you huffed out of your nose indignantly. "Without me? He knows I love lunch in the gardens." You helped her set down her stack of papers on her desk before giving her a quiet nod, "Thank you, Cornelia, tell Eunomia that I'll be joining him. I'll need to cancel my prior arrangements at the Opera Epiclese."

She nodded quickly, though, it wasn't as though you saw her nod with how quickly you turned on your heel to immediately head towards the residential wing again.

Before the attendant at the door could so much as give you a greeting bow, the doors were flung open as you rushed out into the endless pockets of color. "Neuvillette!"

It seemed even your own husband was surprised you'd showed up based on the expression stretching across his formerly blank face. He blinked a few times as you stalked towards the table. "You scoundrel, don't tell me you were trying to get out of having lunch with me!"

He blinked a few more times before the cup of tea he was nursing was set back down on the table, "I apologize, my dear, it seems our arrangements slipped my mind."

You huffed again, setting your arms on the back of his chair. "This simply won't do, as the Iudex you must always remember your promises." You tapped your finger on the wooden frame, tail haphazardly swinging back and forth by your ankles. "You even promised you'd set aside an entire hour to spend with me today."

He hummed again, leaning his head back onto your lower stomach. With his eyes closed, he pondered absentmindedly to no one in particular, "Did I really?"

You nodded eagerly, punctuating it with a verbal hum of agreement. "I remember specifically that you promised me because I had something I needed to tell you."

His brow raised curiously, eyes finally peeling open when you moved your hands tenderly to cup his shoulders. "Oh? Did you mention that you had something you needed to tell me when I promised you?"

"No," You squeezed his collarbones before retreating from his chair. There was a small bit of glee swirling at the bottom of your stomach as you watched him chase after your hands subconsciously. As you sat yourself down in the chair across from him, you added, "I thought it'd be best if I simply told you over lunch."

The way his eyebrows twitched indicated his vested interest in the matter. Instead of picking up his cup of tea again, his hand reached for a fork. "Really? Is it something you couldn't have shared while the two of us readied ourselves for sleep?"

You shook your head, reaching across the table to set out your own porcelain. With the saucer and teacup now making themselves at home in their appropriate spots in front of you, your other hand grasped the handle of the teapot. "No, I was afraid you would be far too tired to grasp what I was saying."

He gave a reserved smile in response, watching your wrist tilt at the perfect angle to pour your own serving of tea. "Surely I'm not as incapable as you say when I return home, am I?"

Your own grin crept up towards your ears cheekily, a terribly concealed mirth in your voice when you responded, "Oh please, you might as well be deaf when you get home. After hours of listening to everyone but your dear husband, you barely remember to say goodnight half the time."

You took satisfaction in the deep rumble emanating from his chest in response, "You're exaggerating."

You snickered at him in response, "Am not!" You plucked one of the many food choices laid out on a platter between the two of you off the plate and brought it to your lips. Before finally allowing yourself to indulge in it's flavors, you tacked on a quick, "Just last week before your trial presiding over the one couple who couldn't seem to keep their sticky fingers off their neighbor's jewelry, you forgot to give me a kiss goodnight."

He pursed his lips, his hand coming to rest under his chin thoughtfully for a moment.

You shook your head, "That's completely besides the point." You wiped the crumbs from your lip with your pocket square handkerchief, "I wanted to tell you I'll be taking a trip out of the capital."

He titled his head to the side lightly, "I don't see why you would need to alert me that you're leaving the Court, it seems every other day you're making a trip to Poisson to aide in the Spina de Rosula's operations."

You nodded, "While that may be true, I'm not just going to be making a quick stop into Rosula headquarters.

...I've decided I'm going to be visiting my family in the Western Slopes of Mont Automnequi."

He choked on his tea, automatically bringing a fist to pound on his chest.

You automatically stood up, looming over the table as you went to thump on his back to get whatever was lodged in his throat to clear out.

However, in response, he held up his other hand as though to stop you. When he finally managed to stop coughing, he immediately began the questioning, "What exactly prompted this sudden need to visit your family again? I understand that you're close with your sisters, but I remember you swore you wouldn't see your parents faces unless absolutely necessary again."

You snapped your fingers pointedly, "Exactly why I must visit this weekend!" You ignored the scandalized noise from your husband's throat as you continued. "My parents will be away from home to partake in a local farmer's market in a nearby town. It'll be one of the only chances I have to see my sisters without the interference of either of them."

It was as though he deflated into his seat at the mention of you leaving for so long so soon. "Surely, they'll be gone for long enough you can push the trip back. If you're truly going to be leaving for so long, I must get in as much time with you as possible."

You shook your head, "Only this weekend. They are adamant that my younger sisters not be expected to tend to any of their crops. They'll only allow Helene and Elise to work the fields and the two of them can only be expected to handle themselves for so long when they've never been forced to work the fields before."

He pursed his lips, crossing his arms, "Well, have you considered bringing your sisters to the Court of Fontaine instead?"

"What in the world are you-"

"Move, Helene, I wish to see the children."

In all of her shock, your twin sister didn't put up any fuss as you pushed her aside in favor of invading the walls of your family home. The small cramped hallway welcomed you, but a little bit too snugly. Your antlers had grown a couple inches since you'd last been inside, so had you funnily enough.

"Odette, Aurelie, Evangeline!"

You crouched to make yourself fit underneath the doorway to the main den, finally standing tall and proud in the main living room where the large family of eight you woke up to every morning often shared breakfast. It didn't take long before you heard a few pairs of footsteps begin to clamber down the staircase.

"Big brother's home!"

A head of pure platinum blonde hair bestowed by your mother's angelic genes was the first to bash itself into your stomach, a groan filling the room as your arms wrapped themselves snug around her little head to get the mini daggers stemmed from her temples off your stomach. Despite looking like a carbon copy of your mother, you sister inherited your father's short, stumpy, bull-like horns that curled forward towards her forehead.

You flicked her on the forehead playfully while your youngest sister all but danced at your heels and the third eldest, just barely brushing past the age of a young lady, stood and watched from the bottom of the stairs. "You're far too tall to be Odette, what did you do with my precious little sister?"

A gleeful giggle lit up the room as she squeezed her arms around your much bigger form. "Don't be silly, it's still me!"

Your own joyful laughter chimed like a bell in tandem with hers. She was still just barely young enough that you could lug her around like a baby. The fact brought a sad twinge to your heart, but instead of settling on it, you hooked your arms under her shoulders and twirled around a big circle in the air.

Evangeline, the baby of the family, tugged impatiently at the leg of your far too luxurious pants. "Me too! Me too!"

She looked similar to yourself and your father, the same hair and a similar build to all those that descended from his half of the family. The two big differences stemmed from her brilliant green eyes and the big antlers that were already growing from the crown of her head. As you set down Odette, you tapped your own antlers while you examined her. "Now look at those horns! Soon enough, they'll be even bigger than mine!"

Her own snickers highlighted the room when you gave into her requests for a turn spinning around in the air, setting her back on the solid ground after giving her a big bear hug.

Evangeline, when you left, had just been barely old enough to remember you as her older brother. She had been four, now, just barely hitting her ninth birthday. Odette had only been six, now eleven.

Then, there was Aurelie.

You turned to her standing at the bottom of the stairway. You might've expected her to have been joyful to see you again, but instead of a happy smile, there was a tight-lipped frown. She had the same color hair and eyes as yourself, your dad's horns, and a much more liberal tongue than your parents had ever cared for. Sheepishly, you opened up your arms in case she might've wanted a hug.

Instead of a hug, she offered an unforgiving punch to your bicep. You winced, only to then be taken off guard by her embrace. She'd been eleven when you'd left, now hitting the pivotal age of 16.

You cocked your head to the side, looking down at where she was burying her own bull-horns in your chest. "I missed you too?"

She clicked her tongue in response, muffled by the fluffy fabric of your cravat in her face, "You're an asshole for not visiting sooner, you know that, right?"

You whistled, "Dad would have your head for swearing. That isn't very ladylike, now is it?"

She pounded her fist on your chest again, smiling when you grunted in acknowledgement, "I should have your head for abandoning me for some rich snob in the capital, besides mom and dad aren't home."

"Hey, it wasn't even my decision," You pulled back from her hug to flick her on the forehead, "And I'll have you know Neuvillette is not a snob."

She rubbed the spot on her head, letting go of your plentiful coat to nurse the new red mark. You gave her one last squeeze before turning your attention back to your much younger, much more hyperactive, little siblings. Their first question was one that had you raising your eyebrows.

"Who's Neuvillette?"

You pursed your lips, turning to look at your twin sister who had finally trailed into the den after you. She shrugged sheepishly in response, "Mom and dad said it'd be best not to say anything to them."

You hummed, crossing your arms. When you finally settled on an answer, you held Odette's hand in yours, the other intertwining fingers with Evangeline, "Well, you know how in all your storybooks there's always a prince to save the princess from her tower or rescue her from the mighty, fearsome, and evil dragon?"

Both little girls nodded their head.

"Let's say I'm the princess," your smile grew when you heard their mischievous laughter, "and our parents are the evil stepmother that made me work all day in the fields so they could go and spend all their time doing other things."

Evangeline raised her hand, you nodded for her to ask her question, "Can we put you in a dress?"

Your twin sister cackled from the doorway. "HAH!"

Your cheeks flushed pink, "Maybe another time, Evangeline." You cleared your throat, "Anyways, so our parents are the evil step parents in the storybook, right?"

The two little girls nodded again.

"I get kidnapped by these evil people that want to hurt me cause I'm a dragon! " You pulled your hand from your sister's to place it dramatically on your forehead, "Even worse, our poor parents don't even know because they're busy doing other things"

There was an audible gasp between the two of them. This time, Odette interrupted without prompting, "If mom and dad didn't know you were gone, how did you manage to get away from them?"

You grinned, "That's where Neuvillette comes in!" You put your hand over your heart, playing up the dramatics, "There I was, being tortured over and over by these terrible people, and then, suddenly a beautiful prince shows up and he beats up all the bad guys!"

Evangeline immediately slapped her smaller hand on top of yours, shaking them back and forth excitedly, "And then you guys kissed and got married!"

You snapped your fingers, your own laugh filling the air, "Exactly!"

Odette frowned, "You got married without us?" She paused again, putting her free hand on her chin, "Wait, since you're the princess, did you wear the wedding dress or did Neuvillette?"

You shook your head, "Sadly, neither of us got to wear a big wedding gown that night. We both wore suits." You paused for a moment, seemingly thinking something over.

"Well, would either of you be interested in meeting him? I might be able to convince him to wear a wedding dress."

“Are you Monsieur Prince Charming? How come you didn't buy our big brother a nice wedding dress?"

Before Evangeline could say anything else further incriminating, you shushed her, "As sure as I am that you have a lot of questions for Neuvillette, you can ask them later. We have a lot we planned to do today and you need to settle into your rooms before we head out."

Before you could convince the two girls to leave, Neuvillette asked aloud curiously, "A wedding dress?"

Odette nodded quickly, "Yeah, if you were going to marry him without us there, you should've at least made sure that he looked pretty!"

Your face lit up a stark claret. Instead of answering, you cleared your throat loudly and motioned towards the large doorway connecting to the residential area of the building, "Come, come, Odette, Evangeline, you'll be rooming together in a bedroom next to Helene." You placed your hand on the small of either girl's back, silently pleading with your twin sister to bail you out of this little situation. From across the room, she watched silently. She was more than amused, only breaking her silence to laugh behind her finest pair of gloves. The pure white fabric seemed to mock the fact that you were being teased over a wedding dress.

With a fake sincerity dripping in her every move, she went to pick up the pitifully small bags that had been packed for their week-long stay in the Palais Mermonia. However, she was quickly stopped by a pair of attendants scrambling to pick them up for her. More surprised than anything, she stopped in her tracks and simply let them handle the group's luggage for them. She called your name in astonishment, "I dare say you're living the easy life, you don't have to so much as lift a finger anymore, do you? I remember having to get you to sit down next to the tub so I could pick clumps of dirt out of your hair when we were still-"

"Helene!" you hissed between gritted teeth, unable to hide the whine forcing the end of your statement to trail up in pitch.

She held her hands up in surrender, her heeled boots clicking against the tiled floors in tandem with the near-silent snickering. "Yes, yes, I suppose I can hold my tongue for your sake. Now, which way are we headed? Only just walking into the place makes me feel like I'm royalty, I simply cannot wait to see the bed chambers!"

Neuvillette could only watch on in quiet bewilderment as you walked your two younger sisters towards their guest room. There was a quiet patience in the way you presented yourself as they hung off of you. Even when they asked to be picked up, without a complaint you slung Evangeline onto your shoulders and silently put up with her tugging on your antlers while she all but squealed in delight at the beautiful, intricate tile and marble works.

It took Aurelie clearing her own throat before Neuvillette seemed to snap out of his daze. "It's a pleasure to meet you Monsieur Neuvillette, I'm Aurelie, fourth eldest of the family. It is a pleasure to call myself an in-law to the well-respected Iudex of Fontaine."

It took a moment to recompose himself, eyes still locked on your long gone frame disappearing behind the large doors. "Ah, truly, the pleasure is all mine. I've long anticipated meeting the newest extension of my own family."

Elise bowed her read respectfully, "I apologize if we aren't as informed in etiquette as you expected. I'm afraid we are only able to pick up so many manners when we live so far away from the Court."

He shook his head, planting the same polite smile on his face as he motioned for her to lift her head again, "You have been more than polite, there is nothing to be afraid of. After all, we are family, treat as you would your brother." He give a small chuckle, "I'm simply surprised to see my husband so spirited."

Aurelie immediately raised a brow, "Really? We've always joked that he's more like the family dog than our brother."

Without missing a beat, Elise swatted her younger sister up the backside of the head. "Aurelia, manners."

Despite having gotten in trouble with her older sister already for not holding her tongue, she held the back of her head bitterly, sputtering out a quick, "What?! He told us to act like we're family!"

She shook her head, disapprovingly. "That doesn't mean to completely drop all pleasantries-"

Their small bickering was cut off when a low rumble resounded through the room. They both turned to look at the source, quiet as they watched Neuvillette try his best to suppress his laughter behind his hand. "Really? I'm curious, how did he manage to earn that title?"

There was a quiet mirth behind his eyes, both girls holding their tongues quietly.

The younger of the two spoke first, "Well, he's just really cuddly, I guess? He always acted more like a dad than our own dad." She took a step further away from Elise before adding on a pointed, "That and dad always yelled at him for leaving holes in the yard during harvest season."

Her elder sister didn't bother attempting to correct her this time, simply sighing. "Well, I suppose if it's alright, I might as well exchange my own experiences. I was the one that watched him grow up." Aurelie perked up immediately, going to open her mouth, but Elise cut her off once again with a sharp tone and a raised hand, "But, I'll only tell you this once and I'm never going to let another word slip if I hear this gets back to him. He'll have my head."

Aurelia nodded quickly, immediately at attention as a wicked smirk overtook her usually demure features. "You should be excited, these are what we would call insider secrets."

Neuvillette nodded silently, quietly resting a majority of his weight on his cane. He was excited, but he didn't know if it was his place to let that show.

Elise took in a deep breath, before using her hands to smooth out any potential wrinkles in her bodice, "Once, our mother and father forgot my birthday during a terrible harvest season. All of our crops were dying and they ended up going to Poisson to try and find a miracle farmer from Sumeru to fix our calamity." Her own smile grew on her cheeks, "The night they left was the night before my birthday, and since our brother knew our parents didn't have anything planned, he tried to make me a special birthday breakfast but he didn't have any clue how to because he was only seven."

She paused before putting a hand over the bottom half of her face, "He tried to make me a batch of my favorite food, Conch Madeleines, but they ended coming out looking more like little pieces of oddly misshapen beignets." There was a sweet chortle that slipped past her glove, "I obviously knew that he tried to make Conch Madeleines since I had no interest in beignets, but when he swore up and down that they were beignets I didn't have to heart to tell him I knew they weren't."

She sighed, "He truly does care a lot for the people he holds dear, but he's a very proud young man and it often gets in the way of him trying to be sincere. If he'd told me that morning he'd bartered away his favorite toy sword to afford the ingredients, I would've taught him how to make them properly myself and he was more than aware of that. But he refused my help altogether and I ended up having to throw away a lot of the that breakfast because it was undercooked."

Neuvillette hummed, placing a contemplative hand on his chin. "Ah, I see."

Aurelie frowned, "Man, I can't even make fun of him for being a softie because you won't tell me anymore stories like this if I do."

Elise nodded in agreement, "Precisely, now let's go find out where those poor girls are holding him captive." She bowed her head politely once again, curtsying before grabbing her younger sister's hand, "If you'll excuse us Monsieur."

He nodded, "Please, call me Neuvillette. I hope to be viewed as just another member of the family."

"15,000 Mora?! This is insanity, this- this might as well be extortion!"

Your eldest sister sputtered as she stared at the price tag on the dress she was supposed to be trying on. Helene, on the other hand, twirled in her own gown. She looked into the mirror with a dreamy and far off stare. Her eyes were intensely focused on each layer in the train and the way they followed her every movement. "Oh, this dress makes me feel like a princess, are you sure this is truly alright to even be trying on?"

Neuvillette nodded, adjusting the cuffs on his own suit. "As much as I offered to chip in, your brother wouldn't so much as let me bring my wallet. He's insistent on being the one to fund all of this."

Elise bit her bottom lip, examining the price tag again. "Oh, but I couldn't think of asking my baby brother to pay for something so extravagant. I'm sure there are some less expensive options somewhere in this store."

Almost as if you had some kind of sixth sense tingling, you entered the room with your three younger sisters all in their own outfits. "Nonsense, I'm more than privileged enough to spoil you all for the day. Think of it as repayment for not visiting for five years."

Your twin sister had snagged a beautiful emerald green gown, each layer transitioning into a darker green until it gradually faded to black. There were silk shoulder length gloves in black that beautifully complimented her figure. Her bright green eyes stared into the mirror, absolutely in love with the way it hugged her curves and accentuated her waistline.

Your oldest sister chose a much more muted mauve color to try on, having always stated that she loved purple. It was a simple A-line gown with fewer layers and a cute sweetheart neckline that dipped into an ornately embroidered white bodice. "Oh but this money could be going to much better things. What about a new pair of pointe shoes for Odette? Or even new toys for Evangeline? Not to mention, Aurelia is thinking of attending school in the capital-"

You put your hand firmly on her shoulder, "Elise, as much as I love you, you have always been a worrywart. Try on the dress, I am not hurting for money. If you, Helene, Odette, Aurelie, or Eva need anything, you need only write me a letter."

She clutched the ballgown in her hands, still staring at it with a swirling sense of uncertainty.

You sighed, "If not for yourself, do it for me? Maybe I want to see my eldest sister feel beautiful in a new gown for once."

She huffed out of her nose, finally hugging the fabric to her chest with a sense of feminine glee she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a while. "Oh, alright. But consider this the first and last time I try on a gown this expensive."

You cheered along with the rest of your family, Aurelia grabbing her by the hand to lead her into one of the many dressing rooms in case she needed help lacing up her corset. Aurelia herself chose to avoid wearing a dress entirely. Instead, she wore a conservative pant suit with a flashy red coat and a high riding boots the same color.

Neuvillette took the opportunity to watch as you began to spin your younger sister around, Evangeline clapping in glee as she watched the two of you twirl around.

Odette had chosen a pure white gown, graced with white feathers on the front of the dress. She chose to skip gloves and even had a shorter dress to show the length of her slender, toned legs. When she'd been born, your mother had been so insistent she be named after the famed protagonist of Swan Lake she'd nearly divorced your father to ensure her love of dance would be carried on through the family.

Even now, as your family struggled to make ends meet with you gone, you always insisted on sending enough money to your parents to make sure your siblings were cared for. This included money that was specifically allotted to pay for each expensive pair of pointe shoes that your younger sister wore out when she would make the walk to the nearest city to study dance.

A new, pristine white pair of ballet slippers on her feet, Odette laughed with a shy glee as she rehearsed the steps to the Sugarplum Fairy's dance in the middle of the private room you'd rented in the high end boutique. Despite having two left feet yourself, your etiquette lessons finally served you right, allowing you the necessary grace to support her in her turns as you gingerly spun her around in her pirouettes.

Your husband let his posture soften when your youngest sister bowed to indicate the end of her little dance. He clapped politely, "You are a wonderful dancer, Odette."

You nodded, chest puffing out with pride as you rested your hands on her shoulders. "You truly are, mother is always more than proud when she writes of your accomplishments. You will make a wonderful performer when you sign on with a company."

She nodded shyly, suddenly bashful from the attention. It seemed Evangeline noticed the brewing tension in the air as she quickly changed the topic, jumping up and down with a cheerful, "Me next! Me next!"

Neuvillette also couldn't help the smile that rose to his face when you took your nine-year-old sister's hands in your own, twirling her around like a top while she giggled in her baby pink ballgown. The expensive sequins dragged against the beautiful tiled floors, and yet it seemed nobody in the room was able to hear the scraping over the noise of unbridled joy all throughout the room.

You, yourself, were in a new suit that was the same color you always wore. It was a little more extravagant than usual, something Neuvillette chalked up to you wanting to indulge a little bit while your sisters were in town. He had chosen a more conservative, but comfortable blue suit. He stated it would be something to wear around the Palais Mermonia when he didn't have any trials.

You couldn't deny he was still as handsome as ever... or that you were more than happy to gift him this suit.

He couldn't deny the way your sisters seemed to ignite a new spark in your eyes he hadn't had the pleasure of seeing before.

Aurelia and Elise emerged from their dressing chambers after caving and begging Helene for help with the corset. Elise seemed all too eager to hide behind your twin sister, but she couldn't seem to shield away from everyone's prying eyes. Speeding up the process, you yanked her out from her cover and spun her around in the beginning steps of the waltz. Evangeline squealed with glee; Elise all but shrunk in on herself.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she called your name, reprimanding you with a tremble in her tone, "You'll dirty the dress, We haven't bought anything yet-"

You nodded sternly, jokingly of course, "Well then, everyone gather up their things, we'll pay for them now so you can truly enjoy them."

Before she could voice any protest about the mind-boggling amount of money you were about to drop, she couldn't help but close her mouth again when she watched the two youngest girls all but skip towards their respective dressing chambers, all smiles. She only felt further cornered when the older girls did nearly the same, whispers and giggles the entire way.

With a sigh, she went to collect her own clothing in her new expensive dress.

You couldn't help the unadulterated happiness that was written all over your features as you approached your husband, still sitting in the corner observing everyone.

"I apologize if this isn't your scene, love." You gave him a chaste peck on the cheek, "I might be getting a little carried away."

He only smiled in return, hands coming to rest on the lapels of your coat. "On the contrary, I'm more than happy to see you get carried away." He gave a firm tug to straighten out any wrinkles, smoothing them out further with the back of his hand, "I haven't seen you this smitten with anything really ever."

"For being as expensive as it is, you'd think there'd be more of it."

You hid your laugh (and inconsequential agreement) behind your napkin with a cough. Neuvillette himself couldn't help the small smirk that appeared and then disappeared off his face just as quickly as it showed up.

You wiped the smile off your face with your fabric napkin before laying it in your lap once again. "Well, at the fancier upscale places like this, they cook things in small portions but then give you like twenty courses so you can be full and try everything all at once."

Aurelia frowned from where she was sitting, staring down at the small plate with barely anything on it. "That's-" She could feel Elise's hot glare beating down her back, "...not very intuitive. Why have all these small meals that are-" she paused again, thinking hard on her word choice, "-unconventional, when you can order one big one that you know you'll enjoy?"

You simply shrugged back at her, instinctively picking up your salad fork to pick at the green leaves in front of you. It'd been long enough in noble society that it came as muscle memory. You leaned in to whisper in her ear, "If you ask me, that's a much better way of doing it."

Her brows further creased her forehead as she looked down at the copious amounts of silverware set in front of her. Coming from a family that lived in the countryside, especially when that family usually didn't even utilize a knife unless they were cutting thick chunks of meat, she was more than confused. It seemed, so was the rest of your family.

Elise did her best to follow your example and Neuvillette's, picking up the smallest fork to her left. She pointed to the same fork in front of both of the younger girls, "This one, this one should be for salads."

Odette huffed, grasping onto the normal "dinner fork" next to it. "I don't see why I can't use this one."

Helene did her best to mediate, "Well, just think about it like this, if you could chose, you wouldn't want to mix your salad with your meat, right? You'd want to be able to have a fork for each and every food you tried so that then you could taste only that food, right?"

Evangeline was the next one to interject, "Well, I wouldn't want to cause that's a lot more dishes to wash."

Helene bit her bottom lip to stifle her laughter, she couldn't help the shift in her tone when she went to continue in her corrections, "Well, here, you don't need to wash the dishes. We just get to eat without worrying about it."

Odette's frown only deepened, "Well if we don't wash it, someone else will have to wash it, right? Why not just use the same fork so they don't need to wash more dishes than necessary?"

Elise pursed her lips, "That's enough with the questions, from the both of you. This is the proper fork to use, please use it."

Immediately, as soft-hearted as you were, you stepped up to the defense of your younger sisters. "Oh, don't be so harsh on them Elise, they're only girls, let them use whatever fork they want. I didn't invite you to the city to force you to follow rules everywhere you went."

The muscles in her cheek tightened as she held her own fork in her hand, she hadn't even dug into the food yet. "Well, I worry for if one of them manages to find a husband or wife that lives in the court. What if they grow tired of their lack of manners? Oh, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

You rested your hand on top of hers, "If their potential suitors have any problems with their lack of etiquette, they can take it up with their older brother. I will be more than happy to set the record straight."

"You can't really expect that you'll always be there, sometime the girls need to detach themselves-"

You put your hand up, setting down your own salad fork and picking up your dinner fork. You used it to scoop up a healthy amount of salad before shoveling it into your mouth. You chewed slowly, watching the horror spread over your sister's face. You then swallowed your food, "It isn't as big a problem as you're making it out to be." You turned to Neuvillette, "After all, you still love me all the same, don't you?"

He blinked owlishly a few times, his cheeks painting themselves in a soft pink that was barely recognizable under the dimmed candlelight atmosphere of the restaurant. "Oh- Yes, of course I do."

You smiled triumphantly, now opting to comfortably switch to using your dinner fork exclusively. "I rest my case, dear sister." Even if you would have to go back to being called a "cute countryman" for the night, it would be more than worth it if you could spare your sisters the embarrassment of feeling like fools.

Despite your more than clear demonstration, Elise protested once again. "Well, not all nobles are as understanding as Neuvillette. I don't want any chances to be ruined for Evangeline, Aurelia, Helene, or Odette just because they don't know which fork to use."

You hummed, taking another bite of food into your mouth. You wiped your lips with your napkin again, "I find it strange you didn't include yourself in that arrangement. I'm sure the girls can decide for themselves who they want to marry in the future since I've already been married off by mother and father, you only need to worry about the kind of man you wish to marry in the future."

She huffed, simply unable to drop the topic. You could tell there was true irritation dripping through her veins when you heard the audible smack of the end of her tail against the ground. "You know what I mean, I want them to have an easy life. If it means scolding them occasionally, then so be it."

You sighed, setting your fork back down in its appropriate spot. "Elise, as I said before, they're only girls. The moment they go home, the only fork they're going to be using is going to be a dinner fork. They're going to forget all about this little 'lesson'." You added on cautiously, "I wouldn't want any of my sisters to marry a man that would shame them for their less than well-off upbringing. As much as they may love him, if I see him so much as utter a sour word towards any of the three of them, I will have his head."

Neuvillette couldn't help but feel a sense of proud vindication course through his bones as he watched you defend your younger sisters so vehemently. Something in his gut compelled him to do something else to back you up, besides just sit there and nod his head. It would seem like he was too put on the spot to truly agree.

Hesitantly, he laid his salad fork down on the table.

While your sisters couldn't tell what he was doing, your eyebrows raised immediately.

He picked up his dinner fork pointedly, taking a bite of his own portion quietly. After properly chewing and swallowing, he couldn't help the bashful smile adorning his normally composed and refined features as he felt your gaze infinitely soften.

"I don't see any harm in it, let the little ones use whatever utensils make them comfortable. If they need to learn these skills later, I have full confidence they're bright young ladies who will have no problems grasping the concept then."

"Eva, Odette, what are you two doing still awake?"

That was the first thing Neuvillette heard when he was stirred from his sleep. Groggily, his eyes blinked open when he felt two different smaller weights shift onto the mattress. Where you'd previously been laid down, you now sat up with your back pressed against the headboard. Silk pajamas loosely hanging off your shoulders, you held a worn brown storybook in your hands. Evangeline cozied herself up underneath your arm while Odette remained seated in front of you on the bed.

It seemed you weren't quite awake enough to really register that there was a book in your hands, seeing as you stared between the two girls in half-asleep confusion. Neuvillette chose not to interfere in the moment between family, instead he opted to observe as the two girls waited patiently.

"Eva had a nightmare," Odette whispered, resting her palms on top of the aged and well-loved pages, "I tried to read to her, but she said it wasn't the same as when you or Helene did it."

With each little muffled thump of the end of one of their tails on the bedspread, he could see more awareness soak your expression as you absorbed your surroundings. You took a deep breath, rubbing the remaining sleep out of your eyes. He shut his eyes as you scanned over what should've been his sleeping form.

Your voice was lowered to a raspy whisper as you shifted around in the bed, "As much as I would love to read you a bedtime story, Neuvillette is in bed with us. We can go back to your room and read it."

At this his eyes fluttered open again, a sleep-steeped noise resounding from the back of his throat as he pulled himself to sit as well. He curved his back, all but purring at the various cracks the resounded from his spine. "There's no need to leave now, they've already made the trip."

You sighed, voice remaining much quieter than it usually was, "It seems I can never seem to get anything past you, can I?"

He shook his head with a small smile, motioning for you to hand over the brown hard back in your lap. You blinked a few times, not really able to process his request. He reached towards the lamp on the beside table, clicking the soft light on so the letters on the page became legible. You turned open the first page of the book, interpreting it as him gesturing for you to start reading.

With a small huff, he reached forward and set his own palm down on the book, asking for permission to take it from you. This time, Odette chimed in, "Are you going to read for us, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

You blinked a couple times, finally processing what he was implying. You squeezed your little sister with one arm, "Would that help you sleep? If Neuvillette read you a story?" You smiled at her, a little bit too tired to really censor the soft affection all over your face as you attempted to reassure her, "He has a very soothing voice."

Evangeline nodded quickly, just about burying herself in the sleeve of your sleep-shirt. She hung on your bicep like it was a teddy bear. Odette herself laid her head on your thigh, curling up into a little ball on top of your blankets.

Doing your best not to disturb either girls positions, you pushed the book into Neuvillette's waiting palms. He yawned into the back of his hand, doing his best to blink the sleep out of his eyes as he scanned the rather large print on the page.

It was the average children's storybook, more pictures than it was words. Still, he mustered up his best storyteller voice. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. Her name was Snow White."

Neuvillette paused, flipping to the next page. It seemed the sound of the flipping page further pacified the younger girls. "Snow White lived inside of a castle with her father, the King, and her mother, the Queen. But, things were about to change very soon." You remained silent as he flipped to the next page. "Snow White was very young when her mother died, but it was a long time before the King would remarry."

You delicately stroked your finger's across the older of the two's scalp, adding a flippant, "This was because the King loved the Queen so much he couldn't stand to so much as look at another woman.

He smiled as he once again turned the page, basking in the warmth of such a quiet scene. "Well, ultimately, for the good of the kingdom, the King ended up marrying a new woman, a new queen." He put both of his palms on the page of the book, deciding he too could add onto the story himself, "Now, the new queen was very beautiful, but she knew she would never be as beautiful as Snow White." Flipping to the next page of the book, his lavender pupils glazed over the text before adding, "Even though she knew this, she went up to her magic mirror and she asked it, 'Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?'"

It was a little bit before the two girls found themselves trailing off to the land of dreams. Your voice lowered to a whisper when you realized the two of them had fallen asleep on you, just like they always had at your home in the Western Slopes of Mont Automnequi. "Thank you."

Neuvillette's head tilted to the side curious as he set the book on the nightstand situated on his side of the room. "What for?"

You gestured with your free hand to the two sleeping children on your lap, "With story time, usually, they don't fall asleep this quickly." Your own voice slurred with a tired undercurrent. "I usually get to the end of the story and have to start making some stuff up."

He nodded silently, turning off the lamp at the side of the table off. "Do you need any help laying back down? I wouldn't want you to wake up with a sore back."

You shook your head, whispering back, "They're heavy sleepers once you can actually get them to bed." With this, you scooted around on the plush bed, slinking underneath the covers after carefully maneuvering around your sisters to ensure you wouldn't crush them. You reached your hand out of the little happy cuddle pile of draconic dreams, intertwining your fingers with his. You pressed the back of his cool knuckles to the side of your face, letting your eyelids fall over your pupils once again.

You pressed a sloppy, but almost ghostlike kiss over the band on his ring finger before letting out a sleepy grunt under your breath and pulling the covers ever tighter around yourself and your sisters.

He couldn't help but stare down at the three of you, a sense of domestic longing settling over his heart. This, he realized, was something he felt he couldn't do any longer without.

As of now, he was just about drowned in his work, but what he wouldn't do to have just a little more time to spend with you in moments like this. To have happy moments on the town, to see this entirely new side of you he had yet to explore.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized the two of you had an entire lifetime ahead of the both of you. A lifetime where you could share these moments forever. Every morning, he would wake up to your face. Every night, he had the blessing of being able to fall asleep listening to you breathing in rhythm with him. He could feel the warm of your face pressed against the back of his hand. Just little moments like these, you had decades, centuries of them just waiting to be realized.

Maybe the two you could share these tender moments with a family, a family you could start together.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" yes guys this is the result of begging me for mpreg u get a throw away line at the end of a fic "

THIS IS A REPOSTED WORK FROM MY ORIGINAL ACCOUNT BEFORE IT CRAPPED AND DIED ON ME

I USED TO BE FOUND AT @steadybear

I FEAR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH SEEING @bigtedbear INSTEAD FROM NOW ON

[jymwahuwu]

JSHDJDBDJBSSJSBS THE WRIO ONE👀💦 + the fact that you can stay after serving your sentence

imagine being one of the prisoners at the fortress at first but you actually smiled at him when he's signing your paperwork for having served your sentence but he wants you to stay...

If you cooperate, you get a protective and cuddly wolf but if you don't, then you'll get a lovely 'hustle and tussle' at first. Don't worry, sigewinne has all the ointments needed to soothe the bite marks and hickies left by a beloved wolf🤭🥰

-💦anon (life is killing me but my therapy are hot men -wriothesley and Neuvillette-🦋)

💦nonny, me too lol i feel less tired just thinking about them. sending you a digital hug <3

And this… face the fact that we can't leave the Fortress of Meropide once the sentence starts, it doesn't matter if it's 10 days or not 😹💗

CW: yandere, non-con, abuse of power, spanking, forced imprisonment

You weren't actually that worried about going to jail—although you weren't so laid-back as to think it was summer camp, you weren't sighing like the others either. You live in Fontaine, after all, a country famous for its laws. Your friend has been to the Fortress of Meropide three times, and a classmate was imprisoned for 15 days for some inexplicable reason. They give you some instructions on what to do in prison and write letters to friends who are still in prison asking them to look after you.

You go to jail with the papers, but the receptionist is on leave, so you have to go to Wriothesley in person. Need to meet the "Duke"? Fortunately, you learned about Wriothesley's character from your friends in advance and breathed a sigh of relief. "Hi, do you want some tea?" Whether you shook your hand or nodded, Wriothesley put down a cup of warm tea on the table and read some stupid shit charges, such as singing for Furina but off-key, lying about not having dessert at home, hanging wet clothes on rain. The number on your sentence document is "10 days." You are clearly a victim of these stupid crimes.

During these 10 days, you have been assigned to work in Wriothesley's office to replace other prison labor. You read the manual and brew the tea, looking around in confusion, but don't see any other prisoners - are you the only one working here…? You just had to prepare tea, process and deliver documents, but…once you accidentally dropped a piece of the opera cake on the floor (his afternoon tea). Without warning, Wriothesley pulled down your panties and spanked you. Absolute…shock. Could he do this…?

You convince yourself that this might be prison discipline…right? It should be like this, right…?

After working for ten days, you hummed a song and walked briskly, holding the release documents to look for Wriothesley. With a grin, you asked him to sign it in a soft tone.

"Why do you think I'd sign?" He raised his eyebrows and looked up at you, crossing his arms.

Your raised lips froze, and the luster gradually faded from your face. "You-won't you sign?"

Unexpectedly, you receive a confession from "The Duke," the prison administrator. Knowing that it was not a reason for the complaint, you gradually felt relieved. Ask your heart, do you agree to stay -

Agree:

Wriothesley leaves you in the Fortress of Meropide, but also allows you to return to the surface. He is a humorous and considerate boyfriend. The two of you often date at teahouses, coffee shops, and the Fortress of Meropide. Once, Chief Justice met the two of you and sighed in realization. "So this is your mate, for love and mating."

You: (cheeks burning) ?????

Disagree:

There was an argument that ended with Wriothesley pushing you and placing you on the table, forcing your legs apart. It was rough but controlled force - basically no injuries except for bites and hickeys on your neck and inner thighs. Frustrated sobs gave way to reluctant moans. After this, little Sigewinne gave him a rare scolding, and examined and applied medicine to you.

Still, you can't get out of jail. Those handcuffs locked you in his office and resting area. He pats your head and tells you to be good.