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#it’s a bit ending of bolt 4 me

kakujis · 1 year

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do you love me? 3;

synopsis: they wake you up at 3am and ask if you love them. 1 + 2 + 4

ft: hanma, ran, and rindou.

warnings: gn!reader, insecurities, clingy bfs, jealous!rindou, swearing, mentions of drinking, not proofread, reader is a lil mean in hanma's ): and thaat should be it!

a/n: is it me or are these getting longer?! anyways, here's part 3! the last one will be mitsuya, draken, and chifuyu! i’m running out of steam thinkin’ of scenarios uh oh. anyway, writing ran's bit was so much fun, since i feel like he's a goofy loverboy. i kind of struggled w rindou’s but i hope it still falls together nicely! ALSO WHY IS HIS SO LONG WTF and here's a special lil tag for @fuyuluvr ♡

the city is quiet as the hum of a motorcycle comes to a stop. hanma’s not sure how he ended up here, well actually he is, subconsciously driving straight to the one place that always riles him up, setting his veins on fire faster than the rush of a zipline.

he hums to himself, taking off his helmet, and nudging down his kick stand. he looks upwards, toward your bedroom window, his heart already starting to flutter in his chest. stuffing his hands into his jacket, he walks up, getting ready to scale up towards your window. he glances around, although no one’s around in this dead of night, he would rather not have anyone calling the cops on him.

they’re probably asleep, he thinks, as he peers back up, nails digging into the stone as he uses his leg to boost himself up. he hoists himself until he’s up to the sil, laughing a little to himself when he notices you left it open like you were expecting him.

he tumbles in, knocking over your lamp in the process. “oops.” he says. meanwhile, the crash has you bolting awake, screaming, no, screeching as you grab your alarm clock, holding it up, ready to throw or swing.

he throws his hands up defensively as he approaches, “it’s me!” and in your sleep deprived state you scramble back, the grip on your device tightening.

hanma barks out a laugh, before he switches on your bedside lamp. “hi baby. ♡” he chirps, seeing your shoulders slump as you settle, a particularly loud sigh escaping you as you place one hand over your chest. he kicks his shoes off as he jumps onto your bed, diving straight into your comforter, laying on his stomach.

“you scared the shit out of me!” you yell, “besides, what time is it?” you look at the device in your hand before you realize it’s off, ripped straight out the socket. frowning, you toss it onto the floor, before crossing your arms and facing him.

“you were really gonna fuck me up, huh?” he muses, honey eyes twinkling at the idea of you actually swinging on him. he would’ve dodged of course, but it would’ve given him an excuse to grab you and have you underneath him.

you sigh again, “shuji, i don’t have time for this. i’ve got a work meeting tomorrow morning.” you grab your blankets, shimmying underneath them and pulling them up, “we can hang out this weekend or something,” you yawn.

“eh?” is all you hear as you turn over, shutting your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep. maybe he’d fall asleep with you or maybe he’d leave, but the only thing that’s really on your mind is this stupid meeting. just a few more days until the weekend, has been your new mantra, if you can just tough it out, you’ll be golden.

it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the dip in your bed is still there and soon enough he’s asking, “do you love me?”

“no, shuji, of course i don’t…” you start, sarcasm tinting your voice as you roll back over, but you stop when you see his defeated expression. it’s different from the shuji you know, his solemn eyes studying you, as he nervously plays with your sheets in one hand.

hanma shuji has been so damn bored. it’s been like this ever since you got a job, constant “i can’t”s, and “maybe next time, shu.” he wants so badly to go on late night rides with you again, the sound of your laughter ripping over the roar of his motorcycle.

he wants to stay up with you until sunrise, at the top of your favorite hill, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing. he wants to snap pictures of you at the top of this hill, thinking you're prettier than any sunrise. you make him feel like he’s invincible and that everything’s okay.

shuji has been so bored, but more so than that, he’s been lonely, unsteady. he misses you so fucking much, nothing’s as fun without you, everything’s dull like the world’s covered in sepia.

“c’mere,” you say, opening your arms and he crawls forward, collapsing into you. “i love you, shuji, i do.. and i’m sorry.”

you realize now how distant you’ve been. unbeknownst to the two of you, just how stressful a new job could be, you were just trying to jumble a new set schedule but you had been snappier, neglectful, and even downright mean at times.

shuji tried his best to accomodate you, going off on night rides by himself, always saying, “it’s alright.” when you’d turn him down again. he tried to busy himself more with his friends, but his mind always wandered to what you’d be doing - did you miss him too? - checking his texts every now and then in hopes there’d be a new message.

“shuji?” you whisper when he doesn’t respond and you think he has every right to be upset with you. but instead he says, “yeah?” his face suddenly dangerously close to yours, the tip of his nose lingers by yours and your face heats up at the proximity.

“um,” you stutter and soon there’s a smirk dancing on his face, “d-did you hear me?”

“i heard you. loud and clear, ♡” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “i was just replayin’ it in my head.”

shuji always has you melting and tonight is no different, so you close your eyes and let him kiss you. deep, sweet, and full of all the things the two of you don’t know how to say. you pout when he pulls away and he grins, “so cute.”

an idea strikes you then as you gaze at the love of your life. “hey… wanna go for a ride?” besides, what's the harm in losing a little sleep?

the way he perks up has you giggling, you’re sure if he had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. he’s practically beaming, as he starts to pull you up and off the bed. he stops for a second, head tilted and finger on his chin, “wait, don’t you have a meeting at in a couple hours?”

you nod, “yeah, so bring me home by 5?” you smile at him as you reach for a jacket.

“i can do that.”

ran:

for the first time in his life, ran haitani cannot fall asleep. he lays there, one arm resting above his head, the only noise being the sound of your soft snores as his mind continues to wander. he thinks about the dinner you two had earlier. it was dumb, the entire situation, your friends were clearly too drunk to be saying reasonable things. ran knew this, he’s been the same way countless times before.

but when she hiccuped, arm slung around you, “maann, can’t believe you ended up with ran! you used to only talk about rindou in high school ehe.” ran felt his stomach drop.

you froze at that, quickly glancing at ran whose face was otherwise unreadable. she continued, incessantly giggling, “seriously seriously! everyday was ‘man rindou looked sooo cu’-“

“thats enough!” you had said, placing a palm over her mouth to muffle her. “lets get you home, okay?” desperately glancing at the rest of your friends, who took the hint and helped her out of there.

ran remembered how after everyone left, you had tried to talk to him, “listen..” your hand reaching towards his.

but for some reason, he had stopped you. “it’s fine, people say dumb shit when they’re drunk,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “don’t worry about it.”

and maybe the reason was that he was scared, scared to hear you admit that yeah, you did like his brother. and when that didn’t work out, you settled on him.

he shakes his head, getting up from the bed and padding over to the bathroom. turning the faucet, he douses cold water on his face. don’t be stupid, ran.

when he walks out, he stops when he sees you sitting up, sleepily rubbing your eyes. “ran?” you mumble, “are you okay?”

he settles back into an easy grin, walking over and climbing back in. “yeah, i’m alright.”

“liar.”

he blinks. “what’d you just say?”

“i said, you’re a liar.” you huff, placing your hands on his cheeks, swiveling his head towards yours. “you’re upset.”

“and why do you think that?” he says, but there’s a red tint dusting on his cheeks, and his eyes flicker from you to various objects around the room.

“first of all, you’re awake,” you emphasize, “when is ran ‘if i don't get enough sleep i’ll kill you and your family’ haitani awake at 3am? hm?” you dart your head every time he tries to look away trying to stay in his vision.

he sighs, “okay, you got me.” he stills, looking at you with a crease in his brow. “do you love me? and.. was what your friend said right? that you used to like my brother?”

you soften at his question, “of course i do. i love you and only you. let me explain?”

he nods and you drop your hands, opting to intertwine them with his. sighing, you begin, “okay so, in high school there was this… friend- okay no i hated that bitch-“

you give ran a look as he whistles, caught off guard by your vitriol, as he motions you to continue on with a little grin, “don’t mind me.”

“there was this acquaintance,” you continue and ran nods, “and every single guy i was into she would try to take them from me, so i pretended to like rindou because.. i was scared.. she would actually get together with you.”

its your turn to burn with embarrassment, looking down at your interlocked hands as you reveal the secret you kept for so long. you glance up at ran and groan out a “what?!” when you notice his shit-eating grin.

“i’m really a catch, eh?” he teases and you scrunch your nose. “don’t make that face,” he points, “you’re the one who tried to gatekeep me.”

“ugh fine,” you pout, your face on fire, “this is so embarrassing… ah!” ran pulls you down, hugging you tightly. “ran?”

“man, i feel like a million bucks! who would’ve thought the person i’d been chasin’ all throughout highschool felt the same way. i should’ve asked you out sooner.” he pinches your cheek, cooing, “my baby.”

you can’t even focus on the fact that he casually mentioned the two of you were mutual crushing for so long. if you could die from embarrassment you would. on the flipside, if ran could die from love, he would. he’s never admitted it before, but he’s always felt a little insecure, so he hides it behind a mask that only you get to uncover.

“did i ever meet her?” he asks, face to face with you. he can’t stop smiling, instead continuing to poke your cheek as you pout.

“hmm, maybe. i dunno, i tried to avoid her a lot of the time.” you answer, “why?”

“cause if i did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about it.” he says, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “i’ve only had eyes for you after all.”

was he always this cheesy? seriously, you might die. “i’m gonna die,” you profess, your face and body on fire, moving your hands up to hide your expression behind them. “if you continue, i’ll seriously die.”

“dying in my arms is super romantic though.” he muses, “i bet it’d be a dream come true for you.”

“shut up!” you groan, burying your face into the pillow.

“babe, seriously, it’s a dream of mine. romeo and juliet, who?”

“ran haitani, shut up!”

rindou:

rindou haitani was seething. on the outside, he had it all. a club that he owned with his brother, able to play his music to an excited crowd, and to top it all off, a loving partner who did their best to support him. but on the inside, he was someone who hid from his emotions, snuffing them out before they had their chance to reach the surface and maybe that’s why, in rare moments, when he couldn’t snuff them out he waited until you fell asleep to think about them.

maybe it was his fault for inviting you out, but it’s always been a dream of his to watch you dance to his music. at first you refused, something about how crowds aren’t really your thing. but he persisted, noting how you always dance for him when he plays his music so why not do it at his club?

“besides, you always get along with everyone you meet, just try it.” he insisted, beaming when you said “okay, just this once.”

he wasn’t usually jealous, something he prided himself on, that you could hang out with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted and he’d have no issue. but tonight things were different. you looked amazing under the neon, pulsing lights, feeling the beat down to your bones as you swayed and moved on the dance floor.

ran was supposed to stay close to you, but the two of you got separated by the mass of bodies. from his view up top though, rindou could see you clearly, and when someone came up to you to dance, he was sure you would deny them. but perhaps it was the slight buzz of alcohol running through your veins or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you that caused you to say yes.

you didn’t grind on them, thankfully, but still, the way you laughed and cheered, eyes fully on them was like a kick to rindou’s gut. at one point, they leaned in to say something to you and rindou almost stopped his set, wanting to take you home immediately. but instead, he grit his teeth and kept playing.

he didn’t have the heart to tell you anything on the way home either, the way you excitedly bounced up and down detailing to him about how much fun you had and how you’d love to go again. he shut those emotions down again, instead laying a hand over yours, smiling and saying, “i’m glad you had fun, love.”

but now as he lay there in your shared bed, one arm around you as you slept on his chest, he was steaming. he has a continuous fight with himself in his head over it, how he isn’t the type to dance anyway, so it’s fine if you have fun dancing with someone else. but also, have you ever had that much fun with him before? like you did tonight with some stranger? he’s so pissed off he can’t remember, especially when he thinks about how close they were to his baby.

when rindou is lost in his head, he never notices the things he does outwardly to keep himself calm. like the tapping on your arm or the shake of his leg, but you do, rousing out of sleep, peeking one eye up at him.

“rinnie?” you croak, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting and laughing you did tonight. “you okay?”

he looks down at you, unable to control the frustration clearly etched across his face. “i’m fine. go back to sleep.”

“no.” you say, even in your half-asleep state you can tell that something’s up, “what’s wrong.”

“nothing.” he huffs, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. but if there’s one thing rindou hates, it’s talking about his feelings.

you pause, trying to think your words over carefully. “did i do something wrong?” he doesn’t respond, and you mull it over again, when an answer comes to you. “oh… i won’t go to the club anymore, if that’s what you want, i bet i looked pretty lame dancing out there-“

“no!” he interrupts, “no… you looked amazing…besides, i love watching you dance.”

“then what is it, rindou? i can’t read your mind, y’know?” you remind him and his face softens.

“i know…” he replies, and you wait for him to continue. that’s something that he’s grateful for, that when he does talk, you never rush him, letting him go at his own pace. “it’s just… did you have to dance with that guy tonight?” he mumbles, voice trailing off so that it’s barely audible.

“hm? i didn’t hear you, did i have to..?” you ask, tilting your head.

“did you have to dance with that stupid dude tonight?!” he nearly yells, rushing out his words and you blink, a little taken aback.

“oh…” you realize, he’s jealous. you realize now that from where he was looking it probably did look bad, his partner, dancing and laughing it up with a stranger. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know that bothered you so much…”

for some reason, that sets rindou off and he scoffs, pissed off once again. of course he’d be annoyed, of course he’d be jealous. you’re his partner. “do you love me?”

his question comes out more like an accusation and you hate it because it stings. in turn you say, “i do. do you trust me?”

he wants to bite back, but when he looks at you, he can’t. you look so hurt, he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand, “… sorry. i do trust you. i’m bad at this.”

“i know,” you say and he glances at you, surprised, which makes you smile. “you’re awful at telling me how you feel, so you act all cool and tough instead.”

“aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, your sudden smile catching him off guard.

“hmm… not really mad, just a little hurt is all.” you say, because even though he was the one who told you that you get along with everyone you meet, you know rindou inside and out, culminating from the many years the two of you have shared together.

rindou doesn’t want to seem controlling, but because of that he neglects to establish his boundaries, too focused on how comfortable you feel. it’s his own weird way of control, if he doesn’t push you, let’s you do your thing, then you’ll stay. you won’t leave him like he’s scared you’ll do if he ever says no.

he apologizes again, his frustration turning to shame. you're so patient, even when he snaps at you or can't find the words. but you shake your head, “thanks for telling me. let me know what bothers you, please?”

“i’ll try,” he mumbles, glancing away, and you know that means that next time he probably won’t. he’ll most likely bury those feelings deep inside until you catch wind, but it’s the fact that he’ll at least try that makes you happy. it’s okay, you’ll always be there when he needs it.

you settle back into your original position, closing your eyes and within a few minutes, you’re dozing off asleep.

tonight really did a number on you, he thinks, while playing with your hair, maybe i should be more honest with you… i love you.

but there's a few things that rindou doesn’t realize. like how he’s talking out loud, or that you’re still just barely awake, his “i love you,” warming you up like the morning sun. as much as you wanna mention it when you wake up, you also don’t wanna embarrass him. for now, you’ll keep this a secret.♡

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #hanma shuji #ran haitani #rindou haitani #pibby writing #RANS WAS MY FAVORITE JSYK !!!!

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cupid-styles · 3 months

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daisy 3 - the epilogue (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)

the final part!! sorry it took forever for me to finish this series. I really hope you guys enjoyed it and like this little part that wraps everything up :)

part one | part two

word count: 2.9k

content warnings: inappropriate relationship, minor age gap (4 years), not ramadan friendly

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Y/N and Harry shift into a relationship — or what feels like one — faster than either could have ever anticipated.

In hindsight, Y/N supposes it makes sense. They’d been suppressing romantic and intimate feelings for each other and now that it’d all come to a peak (no pun intended), tangled between Y/N’s cotton sheets, it felt oddly… natural.

The entire thing made her warm with happiness, a busy kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering through her tummy every time she even thought of waking up next to Harry. They hadn’t had another sleepover since that evening, and admittedly, she’d been a bit scared that she would wake up to rushed apologies and explanations of “I need to get out of here, this was a mistake”, but it had been quite the opposite.

The following morning, when her sleepy eyes cracked open, she felt a warm weight pressed up against her back. It took her a moment to come to, but when she did, she remembered the strenuous activities from the night prior, and blushed and rolled over to find the object of her affection waking up from his own deep sleep.

“Morning,” he’d croaked before smiling through puffy eyes. “Can I make you breakfast?”

That had been two weeks ago, and it seemed like the cotton candy cloud they were floating on had yet to touch the ground.

It went without saying that they were still extremely careful on campus — however, now that the temperatures were shifting into a more comfortable number, jackets were being shed and bright tulip bulbs and crocuses were beginning to pop up from the moist soil. They were telltale signs that spring was steadily bolting their way, which meant that the end of the semester was, too. Between the hopeful weather and the pastel-hued beginnings of a relationship between the two, it was enough to pull Y/N from the inklings of her seasonal depression and Harry from his own existential dread.

In short: It was good. Things were finally good, even if they hadn’t talked things through or officially decided on what they were doing yet. Y/N thinks she was okay with that, as long as it meant she was on the receiving end of Harry’s gentle kisses or his sweet goodnight texts.

Yeah. She could most definitely live with that.

. . .

“I found a kitten last night.”

The words make Y/N blink her eyes open. Their lips hadn’t even been fully disconnected by the time his words were ghosting over the seam of her mouth, an apparent eagerness to verbalize this new development from the past 24 hours.

“Oh?” Y/N asks with a quirked brow, fingertips focused on the feeling of his soft knit cardigan.

“When I was taking the garbage out,” he quickly explains. “She was hiding behind the trash cans.”

“She?”

Harry shifts from foot to foot and Y/N immediately identifies his body language as nervousness — he’s nervous to tell her about this cat he found near his building complex, and the thought, for some reason, makes her body bubble with giggles.

“I looked to see if she had a collar or tag or anything and she doesn’t. I took her in and washed her off. She was starving, but I was thinking of taking her to the vet when I leave campus today.”

Y/N hums, “Well if she was starving and dirty, it’s a good thing she found you.”

A pinkish flush flowers over Harry’s cheeks and he shrugs his shoulders. “The vet in town is always swamped with college kids impulsively adopting animals. I was thinking of taking her to the one a bit further away.”

“Oh, that’s smart,” Y/N nods, tugging the strap of her tote bag a little closer to her body. Harry normally isn’t so slow in his goodbyes to her, and she really needs to get to the library to work on an essay outline.

“Will you come with me?”

Her eyebrows nearly fly up to the ceiling. They’ve never done anything in public together — not since they saw each other at Target a few months back, and that doesn’t even count because they weren’t seeing each other back then. It was something that made Y/N toss and turn at night. She knew that in the eyes of the university, their relationship was forbidden — neither of them were that dim to understand that — but in any other context, there was no reason why a couple of their age couldn’t be together. It sometimes made her wish that they did meet under different circumstances, like at a bar or even swiping right on a dating app.

“I was thinking maybe you could stay over afterwards, because the only appointment they had available for this evening was at 7 pm and I’m not sure how late we would get back,” Harry tacks on, and the addition only makes her stomach continue to swarm with nervous butterflies. “You can say no. I just thought it would be nice. A stay-at-home date, maybe.”

She’s nodding like a robot before her brain even allows her the opportunity to think it over. And yeah, call her childish, maybe, but the thought of him calling it a date — she supposes this is the closest they can get to one in the near future — makes her heart skip a beat.

“That does sound nice,” she agrees with a smile. “Do you want to pick me up at 6? I’ll… I can pack a bag and we’ll go from the vet to yours later on?”

He nods, mirroring her own enthusiastic grin. “Okay.”

. . .

After a marathon at the library (she was in the beginning stages of doing research on a comparative essay on Emily Brontë’s work), Y/N trekked back to her apartment, stuffed some food down her throat, showered, and packed a bag for Harry’s.

She was a little nervous — okay, maybe fairly nervous, considering the last time they did anything close to this, it had all been very spur of the moment. Things weren’t awkward because of it (it was the opposite, actually), but the rest of their relationship had been spent in Harry’s tiny office. They played footsies while they graded, ordered takeout to the English building while they spoke about their days, and snuck loved-up smiles when they passed each other on campus, but this felt more… finite, maybe. Real. Like they could exist outside the confines of their university.

Harry texts her when he’s on his way and then when he’s downstairs at 6 o’clock on the dot (here xx, which makes Y/N’s heart flutter). She has her usual purse on one shoulder and a tote bag on the other, where she’s packed pajamas for the night, an outfit for tomorrow, and all of her toiletries. She swallows as she locks the front door and turns to see the familiar navy sedan parked right outside, biting her lip when she sees the curly haired brunette in the driver’s seat.

“Hey,” he greets the second she gets in the car. She flashes him a smile, though his own facial expression exudes an air of nervousness, “Do you know much about cats?”

“Um, my sister brought a stray in when we were kids. We only kept her for a few days, but I guess I know a little.”

Harry nods, “I’m scared she’s anxious back there. I tried to make the carrier as comfortable as possible for her, but she’s probably nervous, right? She’s in a weird guy’s car and she doesn’t know where she’s going.”

Y/N breathes out a laugh as she twists her body to look in the backseat. Low and behold, there’s a brand new carrier with a small kitten inside. She coos at its salt and pepper fur as she unlocks the gate, gently reaching in to grab the cat. She can’t be larger than a few pounds, and Harry’s right about her being nervous — she’s trembling, whether it be from the confusion of the situation or an issue the vet will likely tell them about.

“Here, I’ll hold her for the ride,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a delicate kiss to the top of her head, “She just needs some love, hm?”

“She kept slipping on the hardwood floors in my apartment last night. I felt so bad.” Harry replies as he puts the car in drive, a slight pout on his lips. Y/N laughs lightly at the thought, stroking her forefinger over the kitten’s back.

“Poor baby,” she glances up at Harry, blinking when she realizes he’d been glimpsing down between them and the road, “Did you think of any names for her?”

He coughs and flicks his right signal on, “Um, yeah. I thought of a few. Haven’t really decided on anything yet, though. I guess it depends on whether or not the vet thinks it’s a good idea to keep her.”

“Sure,” Y/N hums, though she can already tell from her brief knowledge of pets that the likelihood of this little kitten having a home is slim. She’s tiny and underweight and doesn’t have a collar, which means she probably isn’t chipped, either. “I think you’d do well as a cat dad. Maybe you can adopt if this little one doesn’t work out.”

“You think so?”

A small smile cracks at the edges of Y/N lips. It’s apparent that Harry’s scared and needs some sort of reassurance from someone, and she’s happy to be the provider. “Of course I do. I think you have a lot of love to give, Harry.”

She watches as his throat bobs before his own lips form a gentle smile.

“Yeah. I think I do, too.”

He reaches over and carefully intertwines their fingers together. When she gives his hand a small squeeze, she thinks she sees his body visibly relax.

. . .

As Y/N anticipated, the kitten Harry found doesn’t belong to anyone.

The vet does a thorough check-up and the results are relatively positive; she’s just on the malnourished side and will need a lot of food, love, and care to get her to a place where she’s considered to be healthy. She advises Harry to bring the cat back in a month to do another weigh-in just to make sure her diet is nutritionally-dense enough, and he has no problem agreeing.

Y/N scoops the kitten up and gently scratches and pets at the back of her head as Harry talks to the receptionist, supplying information about his name and phone number for the follow-up appointment. It’s only when he’s asked for the kitten’s name that he somewhat freezes. Y/N peers up, assuming he’s just nervous because he hasn’t settled on anything yet. It’s understandable, she supposes — if her parents had let her and her sister keep that kitten from their childhood, they probably would have named it “Princess Muffins” or “Little Lady Kisses”, which Y/N just thinks is embarrassing for the cat.

“Ophelia,” he murmurs lowly before coughing into his hand. The receptionist doesn’t question it as she quickly types it in, but it makes Y/N’s eyebrows raise. She continues scratching at Harry’s newly named cat, using her blunt fingernails to slowly rub the patches of fur behind her ears. She’s not sure if she’s being too fussy and self-centered, but if she remembers correctly, the first time she and Harry met, they talked about how Ophelia from Hamlet was a big inspiration for Y/N’s capstone project. She shrugs it off, especially when they’re done at the vet and they step into the low light of the evening. Silently, they walk side-by-side and back to Harry’s car.

Daylight savings, despite being a stupid concept, arrived just a few weeks prior, which means they’re now privy to a few more hours of daylight before night stretches over the sky. It’s nice — spring hasn’t completely sprung up yet, but there are little reminders here and there that it’s coming. It isn’t freezing tonight but there’s a slight chill in the air, so both she and Harry are bundled up beneath cozy crewneck sweatshirts. He pulls the sleeves of his over his knuckles and the small action makes Y/N’s heart squeeze.

“Are you fine to hold her on the drive back?” Harry asks once they’re back in his car. She nods happily, content with having a small, cuddly kitten curl up on her lap for the next 30 minutes. The evening sunlight bathes the interior of the vehicle as Harry pulls out of his parking spot, flicking on his left blinker to take them back to his place.

“D’you wanna get Thai for dinner?” Y/N asks, suppressing a yawn as she turns her head to look at the male beside her. Again, she watches as his muscles melt a bit, less rigid than they were just a moment or two before, and a smile edges at his lips as he nods his head.

“That sounds great. Could go for some pad thai.”

“Mm, me too,” she agrees, taking her phone out to pull up the ordering app, “Can we split some dumplings, too?”

“I’d love that.”

She smiles to herself and they chat aimlessly and quietly about their respective orders, each of them deciding on noodle dishes (Harry opts for a veggie-only option while Y/N picks shrimp) and an order of mushroom dumplings. She asks if he’s vegetarian or trying to be — she presumes it’d be a rather important thing to know about the person she’s… dating? Casually seeing? What were they doing? — but he shrugs noncommittally, as he does for many questions she asks. It’s almost as if he’s not used to people asking him about his likes and preferences, and she thinks that’s dumb. She wants to know everything there is to know about him.

When she prods him about his vegetable forward habits, he finally explains that no, he’s not a vegetarian, but he likes to eat meat-free when he can. This prompts her to ask him about his other tastes: His favorite ice cream flavor (Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food, which she approves of), his favorite flowers (pink tulips because his mom used to grow them), and his go-to drink when he goes out (“I never go out, I’m an old man, but I am partial to a tequila soda”).

Her time playing 20 Questions is finally up after he picks up their food and they arrive back at his place. By now, the sun has fully retreated and Ophelia is sound asleep in Y/N’s lap. When he puts the car in park, he stops her before they go inside.

“Why are you asking me all these things?” he asks with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. She resists the urge to reach out and smooth it with her thumb.

“I just wanna know. I’m curious.” she replies, shrugging.

“You wanna know about the first album I ever bought and how old I was when I had my first kiss?”

“Of course I do,” she pauses, confused. “Why? Do you not want me to know those things?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. I just… I don’t know. I’m surprised.”

“I don’t know how much more forward I can be with my feelings,” she says softly, nibbling on her bottom lip, “I know this is technically against the rules or whatever, but… I like you. You know that, right? That what I feel for you goes beyond sex and some silly fantasy.”

She watches as he swallows tightly.

“I like you too,” he murmurs, reaching out to take her free hand into his. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities get the best of me but it’s just… odd, I guess, to imagine that you really, truly like me. I sound like a middle schooler, god—”

“Don’t do that.” she quickly shakes her head. If it weren’t for Ophelia still perched atop her thighs, she’d reach forward and take his face between her hands. “Don’t belittle yourself. I like you, Harry. So much that I’m willing to risk my status as a student. You get that, don’t you?”

“Of course,” he nods swiftly, “And you understand what I’m risking, right?”

It’s not meant to be a one-up — it’s genuine and it’s real, and she nods her head and swallows the small lump of tears that’s developed in her throat. It’s the reality of their relationship and it’s necessary to address, especially if either one of them wants to go any further.

With Harry, he has more to lose. He’d be fired, of course, but his degrees could be taken into question, too. His license as a professor. Everything he’s worked for, all potentially wasted on Y/N.

It’s a heavy weight for her to wear.

But, as if he can read her mind (or maybe he can just read her facial expression), he gives her hand a squeeze.

“And you’re more than worth it, Y/N.” he says with soft eyes.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” she blurts out without thinking. Her eyes immediately widen while Harry’s crease with happiness, and she’d contemplate taking back if not for the massive grin that stretches across his face.

“Truly, I thought you’d never ask,” he replies cheekily, and Y/N responds with a gentle swat to the chest. He laughs. “I did name my cat after you, after all.”

. . .

That night, when Harry has Ophelia tucked into one side and Y/N into the other, and she’s half-asleep as they watch another episode of whatever docuseries she convinced him to turn on, after they’ve eaten themselves into a Thai food coma and talked about the latest books they’ve read with promises to exchange them, he realizes he’s never been so happy in his life.

Y/N can comfortably say the same.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months

Text

Amor

Summary: After a bad day at work, coming home to his family makes Javi realize his day wasn't so bad after all

Word Count: 1.9K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Tooth rotting, sickening, fluff 😩😭 Allusions to smut, breeding kink, dad!Javi needs his own warning bc oh my GOD (more specifically, girl dad!Javi...) (*Also general spoiler warning if you don't want to read NTL out of order!*)

A/N: Y'ALL. I told you the dad!Javi brain rot was UNREAL. After writing this, I don't think I'm ever gonna be able to stop writing for dad!Javi ever and I'm not even sorry about it 🤷🏼‍♀️ Don't mind me casually screaming from the rooftops about how much I am obsessed him okay BYE 🤪

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the NTL universe!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

Shitty.

There were a lot of words Javi could have used to describe how his day at work had gone.

At 9:30, after his weekly phone call with border patrol, who provided him with little to no helpful information, the word would have been annoying.

At 11:15, after Agent Miller knowingly jammed the copier and left it for someone else to fix, leaving Javi with no way to make any copies, the word would have been frustrated.

At 3:40, after his department meeting with the other Sheriff’s Offices from the county, none of whom came prepared, as usual, the word would have been angry.

And now, at 6:15, after a spilled afternoon coffee, a giant stack of paperwork that had been thrown on his desk, and a pounding headache, the word to describe his day was nothing short of shitty.

Throwing his briefcase into the passenger’s seat, cranking the AC up and the volume of his car radio to zero, Javi sat in his truck, silently brooding in his moodiness to sulk in the misery that had been his absolutely shitty day.

The rest of his drive home was the same as his pouting in the parking lot of the Laredo County Sheriff’s Department- no music, no windows down, no grin on his face like his usual drives home after work. Javi couldn’t remember a day at work this shitty since the DEA, and that in itself was saying something.

As Javi pulled onto your street, dust swooshed beneath the bouncing of his truck tires along the gravel road, the sun just beginning to fade from its vibrant yellows and oranges to its soft pinks, beaming behind the clouds scattered throughout the September sky. The view was just enough to snap him out of his overbearing funk- the brightly colored sunset painted behind the view of your house and tiny, shadowed figures dancing in the driveway meant that nothing else in the world mattered anymore. Not frustrating colleagues, piles of paperwork, even spilt cups of desperately deserved coffee. The only thing that mattered to him now, were his 4 favorite people in the world, waiting for him to come home. The only thing that mattered was his family.

Lucy was the first to notice Javi’s truck rolling down the driveway, immediately prompting the 4 of you to pause your soccer game that had been happening in the front yard, which, after your two year old had decided she wanted to get involved, had really turned into more of a match of “Chase Harper through the grass as she tries to run away with the soccer ball”.

“Daddy’s home!” Lucy and Elliot squealed, bolting towards Javi’s truck as it finally reached a halt at the end of the driveway, prompting you to scoop up Harper and follow behind, knowing she would be just as thrilled to see her dad, even if her little legs couldn’t keep up with her older sisters' quite yet. The girls bounced in excitement, frantically waving at Javi as they waited for him to exit the car.

From the moment the driver’s side door was open, and both Javi’s feet were on the ground, Lucy and Elliot were wrapped around Javi’s waist, squeezing him with a love and affection that instantly eased every last bit of stress, melting away any remnants of the previous parts of his day.

“Hi Daddy!” The girls giggled in delight as they latched tighter around their dad’s hip, the feeling instantly making him crouch down to their level and drape his arms around them, pulling them in as closely as he could in return.

“Hola, Pollitas.” (Hi, little chickens). The sigh Javi let out was like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, hugging his girls just a little tighter and longer than normal, almost as if he couldn’t bear to let them go.

“Daddy, you’re squishing me!” Elliot squealed, wriggling her little body in Javi’s grasp.

“Yeah, Dad, you’re gonna crush us!” Lucy teased, both the girls bursting into laughter as Javi gave them one last squeeze before hosting them up, letting their little legs flail as he shook them in his grasp before setting them back down, pressing a soft kiss on each of their heads.

“Crush my Pollitas? Never. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Javi teased back, making the girls roll their eyes.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Harper cooed, outstretching her arms towards Javi as the two of you made it to the driveway, Javi immediately scooping her up from you and hosting her in the air, peppering her with little kisses across her body, making her squeal just as loudly as her sisters.

“Mi mas pequeño amor (My littlest love).” Javi grinned, resting Harper against his hip as his little fan club had finally parted ways enough for you to greet your husband, gently cradling his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss on his lips, savoring the sweet taste of him that felt like home.

“Hi.” You smiled, pulling back just enough to see the sweet grin spread across his face before leaning back in for a hug, letting the warmth and scent of his body engulf you whole, making the grin on your face just as wide as his. “Long day?” You asked, still pressed against his chest, noting his arrival time back home was later than normal.

“Not anymore.” He beamed, staring down at you with that tender gaze that still made you melt, even after all your years together.

“Daddy, can I show you the picture I made you in art today? Please, please, please?” Lucy pleaded, once again wrapped around Javi’s hip, gently tugging at his shirt for his attention.

“I made one, too!” Elliot interjected, crossing her arms in defiance, a shocked look on her face that her sister dared to leave her out of the art contribution about to be made to their dad.

“Your little artists have been hard at work today.” You grinned. “I’m pretty sure the Peña house is going to soon be a nationally recognized museum for pictures of puppies, Daddy, and gorillas.”

“Gorillas? That’s a new one.” Javi laughed, looking at you with a confused tilt of your head, your only response to shrug your shoulders in just as much confusion and amusement.

“Mrs. Collins read us a book about them in library today! So I showed Elliot and Harper how to draw them!” Lucy beamed, proudly crossing her arms over her chest with a satisfied nod.

“I’m sure they’re amazing, mi amor (my love), gorillas and all.”

“Alright goobers, now that Daddy’s home it’s time for dinner, why don’t you go clean up the rest of your art stuff and we can show Daddy your pictures before we eat.” You smiled, Javi gently setting Harper back on the ground, only to quickly be scooped back up again by Lucy, the 3 girls racing through the front yard and into the house, giggling and screeching in excitement the whole way there, leaving you and Javi watching your daughters dash across the driveway.

Once the girls were out of sight, Javi’s hands slid down your sides, fingers pressing into your hips as he tugged you in closer, making your rest your hands on his broad chest as he kissed you, now making you giggle as he grabbed an unexpected handful of your ass, giving it a playful smack as you swatted at him, rolling your eyes.

“You’re in a surprisingly good mood for having a shitty day at work.” You smirked, biting down on your lip as you raised a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“How’d you know I had a bad day at work?” Javi asked, cocking his head in confusion, hand still gripped tightly around the small of your back.

“Because I know you like the back of my hand, Javier Jesús Peña. I could just tell. Plus, you always give those girls an extra big hug after a long day, since I know how much you miss them, even though you literally saw them this morning.” You snickered, lovingly nudging Javi before pressing another kiss onto his lips.

“What? Like it’s a crime to miss my family while I’m stuck in terrible fucking meetings and doing shitty ass paper work all day? To wanna spend all my time with my beautiful daughters and their even more beautiful momma? Fine, guilty as charged, I guess.” Javi winked, gently tracing his thumb on the soft skin of your stomach, barley peeking out between your shirt and shorts.

“Well I guess the five of us will all just head off to Peña prison together since we’re all guilty of missing you just as much.”

“God, you’re such a dork.” He sighed, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your forehead. “I love you so much, Osita.”

“I love you too, Jav.” The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the comfort of each other’s embrace, forever your favorite feeling. “Okay, we should probably get back in there before the munchkins get up to no good, huh? In addition to trying to teach Elliot and Harper how to draw gorillas, Lucy was also trying to teach them how to body check someone when they played hockey in the driveway.”

“They are their mother’s daughters, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Plus, I apparently have some pictures of gorillas to go see.” Javi chuckled, reaching back to open the passenger side door of his truck to pull out his bag as the two of you headed back towards the house.

“Well, if you needed something to make you feel better, looking at Elliot’s attempt at drawing you, her, Lucy and Harper riding on a purple gorilla while I chase you riding a rainbow gorilla will probably do the trick.” The two of you laughed, walking hand in hand to the front door, pausing one last time on your porch before entering back into the giggles and grins filling your home. “And if that doesn’t work, I bet after we put the girls to bed, I can think of something else that might help you feel better, too.” You smirked, eyeing Javi up and down with a mischievous grin spread across your face.

“Yeah? You gonna let me give me baby number 4, huh Momma?” Javi’s face lit up, biting down on his lip, his eyes wide and smirk even bigger than yours.

“Bold of you to assume the rainbow gorilla isn’t enough. Guess we do have an extra room to fill, don’t we?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge before heading through the door, joining the girls in the kitchen, eagerly waiting with drawings in hand to show their dad. As Javi trailed behind you, greeted by the image of his wife and daughters gleefully gathered around the kitchen counter, waving their colorful papers at him, he couldn’t help but feel his heart burst at the seams, flooded with sense of love and comfort that he was convinced nothing else on this earth would ever be able to top.

Even on the shittiest of days, Javi knew that nothing could really ever be that bad, knowing he would get to spend the rest of his life coming home to the 4 people in the world that made it all worth it. Knowing he would spend his forever surrounded by the love of his family.

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

for remus' roommate x sirius maybe their first fight?? and sirius comes groveling to the apartment and remus is just like you fucked up man

Thanks for requesting! Unsure how this ended up being lowkey wolfstar but y'know what we're rolling with it

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus opens the front door, sees Sirius on the other side, and promptly shuts it in his face.

Or he would, if Sirius weren’t so quick about wedging his shoe in the crack. The door closes on his toe unkindly.

“Ow! Moony, what if I was here to see you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus says primly. “We’re not speaking to you.”

“We?” Sirius sputters, trying to get his knee in the door to further wedge it open. “What’d I do to you?”

Remus ceases trying to close the door, but won’t let it move an inch in Sirius’ direction. “Don’t. We both know what you did.”

“I didn’t think it’d be that bad!”

“Guess you should have thought harder.” Remus shrugs indifferently, before giving Sirius’ knee a shove with the butt of his palm. Sirius reels, and Remus doesn’t wait to see if he hits the pavement before shutting the door and bolting it. He turns to find your head peeking out from your room down the hall.

“It’s him?” you ask quietly, as if afraid he’ll hear you. Which he most certainly can’t, not over the pounding he’s begun on your front door.

“Remus!” He’s shouting loud enough that Remus knows he’ll be hearing from the neighbors, but he doesn’t care. “Remus, let me in!”

“Yeah,” Remus answers unnecessarily. “It’s him.” You chew on your lip, and Remus’ heart turns heavy and made of mush. “Want me to get him to go away, love? I can take him back to his place.”

Your chewing worsens. Remus worries you’re going to tear the skin off your bottom lip. “I don’t want it to be a big deal,” you say, unsure. “God, I’m really sorry I let this happen. I never meant to make things weird between you and your friend.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Remus says, and he means it. He and Sirius will get past this eventually, no matter what happens between you, but for now, he’s alright with letting Sirius sit with the consequences of his fuckup. “Listen, I’m sure Sirius wants to talk, but he’ll leave if I tell him that’s what you want. Do you want me to tell him?”

You think for a second, then swallow. “No. No, I’d better talk to him. Thanks, though, Remus.”

Remus nods, your thanks far from necessary. “I’ll be in my room, then.”

You give him a grateful smile, strained as it is, before you head in opposite directions down the hall.

Remus hears the door open, and despite every nosy urge in him, he puts his headphones on before he can catch even the beginning of your conversation. He spends the next hour trying to study while actually just glancing toward the hall every five minutes, waiting to see if you’ll come talk to him. When the knock sounds on his door he all but hops up, a bit too eager, perhaps, to be updated on what’s happened. But when he opens the door, it’s not you on the other side.

“Oh,” he says to Sirius, deadpan. “You’re still here.”

“Always happy to see you too, Moons.” Sirius lets himself into Remus’ room, sitting on his bed. He’s trying to look relaxed, leaning back on his hands with his ankles crossed in front of him, but Remus can see the tension in him. His hair is fluffy like he’s been running his hands through it, and half the polish has been chipped off his nails. “Listen, Y/N’s forgiven me, so do you think you could too?”

Remus isn’t surprised; Sirius is charming, and you seem to really like him. He obviously really likes you too, which helps. Still, Remus has to consider it for a while. “Fine,” he decides. “But I’m not going to refrain from saying I told you so. You were an idiot.”

Sirius sighs, both relief and resignation in the sound. He lies back on Remus’ bed, hands resting on his stomach where they fiddle with his rings. “I was an idiot,” he admits.

“I told you it was too early to do pranks.”

“You told me.”

“Even James told you, which is how you know you were being extra thick.”

“I know.” Sirius brings a hand to his face, eyes squeezing closed as he pinches the top of his nose. “She said it’s alright, but I’m going to spend forever trying to make it up to her.”

“Good,” Remus says, sitting down beside him. He looks down the hallway, noting your closed door and the light that seeps through the crack beneath it. You’ve left them alone so Sirius could make his amends with his friend. You’re a sweetheart that way. Sirius can be a sweetheart too, but it takes a tender hand to bring it out of him. From what Remus can tell, you bring it out. When he next speaks, his voice is a bit softened. “She’s bolder when she’s around you, but that’s really the only time I really see her acting like that. She’s usually quite shy. You embarrassed her, Pads.”

“I know,” Sirius says again with a sigh. “I guess I just thought…” he cuts a wary look towards his friend. “Alright, don’t give me shit for this, but I thought I knew her better.”

“I am going to give you shit,” Remus decides. “You’re a prick for thinking that, and you should know it.”

Sirius groans. “I know it.”

Remus hums. “So how’re you gonna make it up to her?”

A sigh. “It’s gonna take awhile.” Remus nods, pleased that he’s at least bright enough to be aware of that. “I was planning on starting tonight. Do you know where she gets those pastries she likes from?”

Remus eyes him. “I do. But there’ll be a tax.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. “You’re covered, I’ve already got a pain au chocolat on my list. If she lets me, can I stay here tonight?”

Remus arches a brow. “You’re laying it on a bit thick. Think she’ll want you here?”

“I don’t know yet,” Sirius shrugs, and guilt hits Remus like a truck at the look on his friend’s face.

He keeps his tone as nonchalant as he can when he says, “Fine. If she lets you, you can stay. Just—” he grimaces “—nothing while I’m home, please.”

Sirius makes a face, and Remus scoffs.

“Oh, please, as if you’re so far above that. We used to be roommates too, don’t forget.” Sirius’ grin turns sheepish, and Remus rolls his eyes. “The bakery’s at the end of the block. They close soon, so hurry.”

“Thanks!” Sirius says, already halfway down the hall. He grabs his jacket from across the back of the couch and is gone.

Not five seconds pass before you’re peeking out of your room again. “Was that him leaving just now?”

“Yeah,” Remus answers you.

“Do you…do you know if he’s coming back?”

You’re all quiet hope, timid in Sirius’ absence but already lighter than you had been when Remus had last seen you. He smiles. “Yeah, he’s coming back. I don’t think we’ll be able to get rid of him for a while.”

591 notes · View notes

paperclip-skz · 28 days

Text

Little Red

fem*Reader x Bang Chan

*WARNING*

contains: oral (f receiving), over-clothes stimulation, teasing, unprotected sex, chasing, and mention of prey, let me know if I missed anything.

WC: 2k

**************************************

“3 minutes!” His voice echoes through the empty house. Your heart is thundering against your ribcage and your breath is lost in your throat. The proof of your excitement is evident between your legs, creating a sticky moisture between your thighs.

You showed Chan the new outfit you bought thinking he would take it off of you right away, little did you know he would be chasing you through the house, playing a game of cat-and-mouse.

You stand there in your new outfit you had just gotten yesterday, your legs shaking. You bought it to surprise Chan, he had been busy all week and today was his first day completely off. You wanted to take advantage of it. Your costume isn’t much of anything, it's a small red and white dress just barely covering your upper thighs, it's practically see-through, but the sheer ends just below your breasts. You chose not to wear panties thinking that your bright red booty shorts were enough. The costume is complimented with a mini bright red cape draping over your head,

You thought he would find it cute and sexy, but once he said “You have 5 minutes to run”

You tilt your head with a confused expression. “Wha-”

He cuts you off as he begins to stand. “I catch you, I fuck you. You have 5 minutes to run.”

A chill sprints up your spine and your panties begin to dampen. The excitement pumping through you like you had just gotten off a roller coaster. He stalks to you with a few more steps, his eyes becoming much darker than what you were used to; his innocent brown gaze lost by a monstrous look.

You both stare at each other a minute too long until he breaks out of your trance “4 minutes.”

Before you can register and stand there a second longer, your legs react. Sprinting through your house. You bolt to the stairs and run up them as fast as you can.

Your costume swings and sways with each turn you make through the house. “2 minutes!” he calls out, and you duck into a nearby room not knowing if it's a closet, a bathroom, or your shared bedroom. You take a moment to capture your surroundings, it's one of your spare bedrooms. You quietly tip-toe to the closet, opening it and stepping in between the winter jackets tucked inside.

Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth, silently begging for your breathing to calm down. Why am I hiding, don’t I want him to catch me? The conflict in your mind battles between purposely getting caught and staying hidden away. You and Chan have always been so open about your sexual desires, he always teased you that you were his prey and he was yours, but this is a whole other level of prey.

“One more minute little red!” he calls out which makes your breath catch in your throat.

You can feel your heart beating against you and the wetness between your legs is so prominent you have to squeeze your thighs shut. Certainly, he wouldn’t mind, would he?

The combination of anticipation and eagerness to have him inside you is overwhelming. So, you slide off your red booty shorts separating the cold air from your pussy. You successfully take them off and slide them beside you not wanting to create too much noise.

“Here I come!” You hear him shout indicating that his patience has ended. Was that really 5 minutes?

Your breathing slows down a bit, making the tight space even quieter. His footsteps echo around the house, creating a thunderous sound bouncing off the walls. You can hear him enter an empty room growing particularly frustrated when he can’t find you. The idea of staying hidden becomes more arousing because you know the second he does find you he will have no control over himself.

Your hand slips down in between your legs, your legs spread just enough to reach your wet folds. You rub gentle circles on your clit, your other hand still covering your mouth. You're not rubbing hard enough to create too much pressure, so your moans aren’t loud, but you're not quiet either. Thinking you might be caught like this because of your moans sends a thrill straight to your core. Your eyes flutter closed as you relish in the feeling of being touched, even if it’s your own hand. You're so lost in the sensation that you don’t hear the door to the room you are in open, it's not until you hear footsteps outside of the closed closet, that you snap out of your mind and your hand halts its movements.

His gentle footsteps inch around the room, not rushed, but still on a mission to find you. “The things I’m gonna do to you when I find you.”

With your hand still between your legs, you start circling your clit again thinking of all the things Chan could do to you. He could ravish you for all you care, make you scream and whimper his name till the neighbors complained, make you squirm with overstimulation, and then kiss your body till your numb-

You moan at your own thoughts. A gasp leaves your lips and you can hear a small gasp come from outside of the closet.

Suddenly, the closet door swings open and you see Chan already shirtless standing before you. You bat your eyelashes up at him and he growls, literally growls, at you. He’s truly become an animal. Your breathing picks up again, acting like you’ve just run miles. He stares at you for a second longer, seeing your exposed legs, the hand between them, and how your nipples are poking through the thin fabric of the costume. Immediately he picks you up, dragging you by your ankles.

He picks you up bridal style, but not for long because he’s throwing you onto the bed in the room in no time.

He’s on top of you letting his hands roam all over you. His lips latch onto the crook of your neck leaving small hickeys. He lifts his head slightly to catch his breath. “Color?”

“Green” you confirm, he growls at your permission. He dives back down to your skin, clawing at the fabric still shielding your body. “Chris” you whine as he is still kissing you, sloppy kisses and purple hickeys marking your skin.

“What? Use your words” he commands in between kisses.

“Need you, please” you beg

He chuckles at your desperation. You tug his face to yours to kiss him passionately. He breaks the kiss to stare at your gaze “Want your big bad wolf to destroy you?”

You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

His crotch rubs against your exposed core and the friction sends you both groaning. His head leans down to see his already rock-hard tent rub against your wetness, then he lifts up with a new fire in his eyes.

Chan leans up to unbutton his jeans letting them fall to his ankles, his boxers not far behind. In record time he lineing himself up at your entrance. The wetness already dripping onto the sheets.

Chan’s stare is relentless as he flicks his tip over your clit. You gasp wanting more of him, wanting him inside. “Chris” you whine, tugging his shoulders to desperately bring him closer. You don’t care if you look pathetic, you’ve seen him literally on his knees sucking on your clit.

“You look beautiful like this, you know that? Desperate for me to fill you up” another flick against your clit, your head slams against the sheets, and your back arches off the bed trying to find the real friction you need. “Silly riding hood, you weren’t mean to get caught by the big bad wolf” he chuckles at his own teasing, again another flick. Surely he can’t handle more of his teasing than I can. “Now the big bad wolf has to eat you up.”

To your surprise, Chan doesn’t push into you. Instead, he leans down onto his knees. He’s face to face with your core, blowing on your sensitive bud. Without a second to waste, Chan dives into your pussy licking and sucking at your clit and then traveling his tongue up and down your folds, making sure to get every last drop of wetness that's gathered there. Your back becomes one with the ceiling with how much it arches off the bed, your eyes roll to the back of your skull, and your moans become uncontrollable. He moans against you, the vibrations creating a new sensation.

“Ah- Chris. Don’t stop, please don’t stop” you call out. His hands grab at your hips forcing them down and closer to his face, taking his tongue and dipping it inside you. The soft feeling of his tongue coating your walls is what sends you closer and closer to the edge. He takes his time rotating his tongue from dipping it into your walls, running it over your folds, and flicking it over your clit.

You get closer and closer that you're screaming his name. “Chris! I’m close, I’m so so close” I’m gon-”

Swiftly Chan stands up, removing himself from your core, right before your orgasm. Your whine comes out as more of a grunt until he leans back down over you and kisses you. Your arousal lingers on his tongue and his chin. You can taste yourself on him and it just sends a zing of pleasure straight to your core.

Chan angles himself at your entrance once again, while still kissing you, and then pushes into you. The stretch is a pleasurable pain and you both moan into each other's mouths. He stays still for a moment letting you adjust to the new feeling of being full of him. “Please tell me I can move baby”

The pain and pleasure become too much too vocal, so you just nod your head. Chan begins to move his hip at a slow pace, the pain slowly becoming a beautiful burn. Your face shapes into a delightful “O” giving him a single to take his pace ever so slightly faster.

“Chris”

“Yea, beautiful?”

“Deeper” your eyes are darker, wanting nothing more than the connection between the two of you to last forever.

He moans at your request taking his thrusts deeper into you hitting your G-spot in the process. As his movements become more rapid your hand shoots over your head, letting the fabric stretch as well. Chan lets his hands grip your breasts, pinching and kneading the hardened nipple.

You feel the knot in your stomach twist and you know you're close. Chan’s eyebrow begins to scrunch and you can also tell he's about to fall apart with you. You take one of your hands to caress his face and he leans into your touch, kissing your wrist. His thrusts becoming sloppy, Chan takes one of his hands away from your breasts to rub your clit in slow circles. That's what does it. The knot that was forming in your chest breaks and you feel your orgasm wash over you in an extreme way. Chan takes a few more thrusts deep in you until you feel him spasm inside, letting himself fill you up.

He collapses onto you his nose nuzzled into your neck, you're both out of breath. There's a few moments of silence until you feel his chest vibrate. “You're laughing?” You can’t help the small chuckle that escapes your lips at his reaction.

“You let me call you Riding Hood. This doesn't feel real”

“Oh, it's real baby” You start fiddling his his hair, petting his scalp.

He lifts his head to place a gentle kiss on your lips, his lips linger for a moment relishing in the feeling of your soft lips on his.

“Let me test it, one more time” In a split second Chan is right back on top of you kissing you more passionately than ever.

#skz #skz smut #bang chan #chan #reader x stray kids #stray kids #limbo #smut #stray kids x reader #story #stray kids smut #short story #christopher bang #bang chan smut #chan smut #chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bang chan x you #fem reader

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nakahras · 4 months

Text

᯽ they forget valentine’s day • multi

synopsis • dazai is an oblivious and dramatic fool. chuuya is a wounded puppy that needs to relax

warnings • dazai (he needs his own warning yes), i’m not sure this even has cursing, anxiety, alcohol, drunk chuuya bc he’s a lightweight, reader is a civilian, fem!reader

wc • 2.8k

a/n • happy valentine’s day, lil birdies <3

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

dazai:

you’d been pouty all week. giving him short responses both verbally and through texts. on day 3 he plucked up the courage to ask but you were short with him once again.

“i’m fine, osamu.”

you were lying to him. you never called him by his full first name, never called him “osamu.” it was always “‘samu” or “baby.” he tried his best to get it out of you a couple more times that day before letting out a huff of defeat at his desk. he was usually able to avoid his paperwork by distracting you but this week has been excruciating for him. you were “too busy” with paperwork. when had you ever been too busy for dazai? it just didn’t make sense.

you were lying and he knew you were.

on day 4, you were both dispatched on a mission together. it was just a standard patrol. something you have done a million times before and usually use it as an excuse to goof off and make a date out of it. this time, however, you apparently took it very seriously. you wouldn’t even let dazai hold your hand. dazai was wounded at this point. his chest felt heavy in the worst way possible.

even worse you started referring to him as dazai. he thinks he would prefer osamu over dazai.

“bella, why are you treating me like a mere colleague. i’m your boyfriend. shouldn’t i be able to hold your hand?”

he’s pouting, you can hear it in his voice but you refuse to acknowledge it. “we’re on assignment, dazai.”

“‘samu. ‘s ‘samu, not dazai. what did i do to deserve this injustice?” the pressure in his chest grows as you continue to look forward, straight faced.

you let out a sigh. “if you don’t know what you did -- or didn’t do -- i don’t know what to tell you.”

dazai spends the rest of that assignment wracking his head over things he specifically avoided doing.

on day 5 he started to actually sweat a little bit because of your increasing mistreatment of him. was this how you were ending things with him? he couldn’t for the life of him think of anything he had done wrong, or hadn’t done at all, as of late. he had been on especially good behavior recently. so the only conclusion he could rationally (read: irrationally) come to was that you were sick of him. you couldn’t stand him anymore. you hated him. that was the only possible explanation.

it wasn’t.

on day 6 dazai had lost all hope. he spent his whole day at his desk staring at the ceiling. he was moping and he was aware of it. the whole office was aware of it but no one was indulging him and that was part of the problem. it’s as if everyone was in on it with you. they all knew but no one would give him a hint. traitors. every single one of them were traitors. even his usually sweet protege, atsushi refused to stare dazai in the eye. that’s how he knew they were all keeping it from him.

dazai wholeheartedly believed they were all plotting on his demise.

finally ranpo came to dazai day 7 with a bag full of…heart themed treats? what was he supposed to-- oh. OH!? how could he have missed that it was mid february. he was meant to ask you to be his valentine and now it was day of and he didn’t even have any plans. he didn’t like the idea of ranpo having to bail him out. once he’s connected the dots, dazai bolts straight up. his chair crashing to the floor with a loud thud. he startles everyone in the office, even you look up in shock. he doesn’t say anything just rushes out leaving everyone, especially you, utterly confused.

he comes back an hour later with the biggest stuffed teddy you had ever laid your eyes on and the most gorgeous bouquet of 2 dozen roses. you’re not even sure where dazai got the money to buy them? you desperately hope he didn’t manage to steal them. he struggles his way over to you and gives you his big pleading puppy dog eyes that he knows works every time.

“i’m such a fool! my belladonna, i’ve failed you and i deserve to be shot where i stand. if you were to deny me i would completely understand,” no he wouldn’t. “but would you please be my valentine?”

you try to stay stern with him but you can feel yourself melting under his big brown eyed gaze. you’re conflicted and it shows on your face. “’samu…”

thank god for yosano walking in at that very moment. she is your savior for the second time this week. she looks at dazai incredulously and then just starts crackling. everyone looks at her confused. once she’s composed herself enough, she looks to you.

“please, tell me i get to be the one to break the news to him.” dazai’s brow furrows in confusion as he looks back at you for an answer.

you nod your head and smile relieved. “i haven’t told him yet….”

“told me what? what am i missing? why are you two being so cryptic?” dazai is whining now. he’s only slightly nervous that you have yet to give him a response, surely you won’t say no to him, right?

wrong.

“this sweet little angel agreed to be my valentine yesterday.” yosano announces proudly while wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

it’s comical, the way dazai’s jaw drops. he let’s out a dramatic gasp. “yosano i thought we were friends. you would steal my bella just like that?!”

“chicks before dicks, dazai. you slept on my pretty angel for too long.”

dazai tries so hard to be appalled but the shrill and scandalized “yosano” kunikida yelps out makes dazai lose his composure. the brunette takes opportunity in yosano and kunikida bickering to pull you aside. he gives you an earnest look, one so rare that you forget to breathe for a moment.

“are you really going to continue to be yosano’s valentine and not mine?”

curse his shining burnt caramel colored eyes. curse his pathetic shaggy haircut that made his waves frame his face so beautifully. and last of all curse those pouty and perfectly pink lips of his that you’ve denied yourself of for a week now. you want to curse him. you really do. but he is so pretty and you’re so weak to a pretty face.

your fold under his gaze and huff in defeat. he lights up like the radiant star he is. you missed his light, it had been dull the last 7 days. you pout as he brings you into his arms. “thank you for giving me another chance, my bella. i promise to make it up to you.”

“you better, ‘samu.”

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

chuuya:

chuuya always worked extra hours. it was normal for him to overwork himself. but lately he felt as though his workload had doubled. he could only delegate so much before he started to feel bad about not doing the work himself. even the paperwork started piling up. after a long 4 days of sleepless nights chuuya has finally managed to clear out every stack of papers that were littering his office.

as if she had a sixth sense for knowing when chuuya was done with his work, kouyou walked in at the most opportune time. “a little birdy told me that you’d finally finished your work. how about we go for drinks to celebrate. it’s still early enough. my little sister should still be in her night class, right? she wouldn’t mind if i stole you for an hour or two, would she?”

“a drink?” chuuya can’t deny that a nice glass of vintage sounds heavenly right now. he hasn’t seen you in 4 days and although he wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he has to respect that you’re currently occupied by the one night class you have a week. kouyou was right, you wouldn’t be out until 9pm. it was only a handful of minutes before 7pm.

chuuya nods. “yeah, i could go for a drink.”

he found himself in one of the private rooms of one of the many restaurants kouyou owns. as promised he is sipping at his second glass of wine, heat is starting to settle in his stomach and he knows that soon enough, if he doesn’t pace himself, he’ll be feeling that heat in his head. it always made his mind foggy.

the conversation had lulled but it was a comfortable silence as they both picked at the appetizers kouyou had ordered for the two of them. kouyou takes a bite of and enoki beef roll and sighs in satisfaction. mid chew her eyes widen and she hums as if something just occurred to her. she hovers her hand in front of her mouth starts to chew quicker. a finger is held up by her other hand to indicate that it’ll just be a moment.

kouyou swallows her food intently and looks at chuuya excitedly. “what do you have planned tomorrow for my little sister?”

kouyou gives chuuya an excited smile and expectant look. the problem is…chuuya has no idea what kouyou is talking about. why would he plan something for tomorrow? panic starts to settle at the pit of his stomach. why would he have something planned for tomorrow? did he forget your birthday? anniversary? what even was the date?

kouyous smile drops as she watches visible panic flit across chuuya’s expression. she sighs, feeling a little sorry for bringing it up. she thought maybe chuuya had been working so hard to get everything finished to enjoy the day with you tomorrow. no, he was just being his usual self and overworking himself to exhaustion. evidently he had no idea what tomorrow was.

“chuuya, calm down. it’s only valentine’s day. she’s forgiving. i’m sure she won’t hold it against you if you forget one valentine’s day. even so, you still have time. i’ll make reservations for dinner for you two at my nicest restaurant, the one at the hotel in the business district. i’ll book you a suite to stay the night as well. on me.”

chuuya visibly relaxes but the look on his face is still one of worry. kouyou gives him another expectant look and chuuyas shoulders slump over. he looks like a wounded puppy. she could practically hear the whimpers.

“i didn’t ask her to be my valentine…” chuuya feels ridiculous saying it but he figures if anyone was going to understand it would be kouyou.

kouyou picks up the bottle of wine and tops off chuuya’s now empty wine glass. she doesn’t think he’s noticed in his panic how much he’s had to drink but she’s hoping a little more will relax him. she doesn’t expect him to finish the whole glass, maybe just another sip or two.

kouyou has never been so wrong in her life.

᯽•᯽

you get let out early from your night class, something about needing to prepare for tomorrow? whatever that was supposed to mean. perhaps it was a special day for him?

as you’re walking up the stairs to your small apartment you look at the time: 8:23pm. you had expected to take the train home but one of your friends offered to give you a lift home. so you were home earlier than expected and you were so appreciative of it. it’s been a long week and you just want to relax.

you shot chuuya a text when you got out. you felt a little guilty for not being able to talk to him more the last 5 or so days. you’d been busy with starting up clinicals and of course having mock patient evaluations and notes due the same day. but you were finally settled and just so happened to have the next 2 days completely free.

you check your messages and see that the message is marked as read but chuuya never replied. you don’t have much time to worry about it though because the second you’re rounding the corner you see -- is that two? yes, it is. you see two familiar heads of ginger hair standing outside of your apartment door. your brows furrow as you get closer and notice your boyfriend is leaning on kouyou for support. his face is abnormally red; it's almost comical.

you clear your throat and kouyou looks up from struggling to keep her own balance. she gives you an apologetic smile. “sorry to dump him on you, sunshine, but he refused to go home after he got your text. i had no choice but to bring him here.”

chuuya seems to have enough consciousness to realize that kouyou is talking to someone. he finally looks up and squints at your for a moment before his eyes light up in recognition. he whispers your name under his breath and gets this adorably determined expression on his face. oh god, he and kouyou must have just came from having drinks. he’s surprisingly stable on his feet still, only stumbles over his feet twice before he’s standing in front of you, examining your face intently, as if he's looking for something that’s clearly not there.

“did kouyou feed you too much wine again, baby?” you let out a small giggle and chuuya swears he could cry over how much he missed you these last few days.

“...yeah. she did. drank too much wine. ‘was good though.” his sentences are short and words are slurred. you think if his speech wasn’t slightly broken, he would definitely be slurring more.

you peer over at kouyou and smile at her appreciatively. “thank you for getting him to me safely, kouyou. are you gonna be alright getting home?”

she waves her hand at you dismissively. “he insisted. i have my driver with me. you two lovebirds have a good night and enjoy your date tomorrow~”

just like that, kouyou leaves you confused. before you’re able to process her words and form a question she’s already made her way around the corner and out of sight. you look at chuuya for an answer instead. his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s examining your face once again. you begin to feel self conscious and pat at your face.

“what? what is it? also… what was kouyou talking about? what date? are you taking me somewhere tomorrow?” you know you might be asking too many questions for chuuya’s muddled brain right now but you’re far too confused to care.

chuuya huffs as if remembering something distasteful. his mouth turns down in a frown and he does something he rarely would sober. his hands find your waist and he pulls you into him with his ability. you make a small squeak of surprise as you practically crash into his chest. your palms placed o his chest to brace yourself. you notice chuuya is uncommonly stable for his state and chalk it up to his ability being activated. you’re correct of course, his body is illuminated by a red glow -- your’s is too.

before you have a chance to ask what in the hell was going on you’re distracted by chuuya’s hands slipping under your scrub top and circling your waist. your breath hitches at the intimate touch. his head drops to your shoulder and he breathes you in. the breath is immediately followed by a content sigh.

“‘m sorry. i forgot” it’s muffled but you still make it out.

you swallow thickly trying to ignore just how much his touch affects you. “you’re sorry about what? what did you forget?”

“didn’t ask you sooner…” you think maybe he’s lost his mind. it’s the only explanation you have for the nonsense he’s spewing.

you reach over to pry chuuya from your shoulder but it’s no use. you let out a defeated sigh. “ask me now.”

chuuya looks up at that. for the third time in the past ten minutes he’s examining your face. you’re no longer questioning it. you suppose it makes sense. it’s been almost a week since you last saw each other. you can’t deny that you missed him too.

“be my valentine?” you don’t think that you’re seen him this nervous since he asked you out.

your brows furrow for a moment until realization slaps you in the face. your mouth forms a circle as it hits you that today is the thirteenth of february. tomorrow is valentine’s day. guilt seeps into your very core. you had completely forgotten because of how busy with school you were.

you sigh and reach out to hold chuuya’s face. “only if you’re still willing to be mine too since i also forgot that tomorrow is valentine’s day.”

chuuya perks up, it’s akin to an excited puppy. you can’t help the way your heart melts at the sight of his soft expression. you giggle as chuuya brings you in and showers you in kisses. you can’t help but to think that all the hard work you put in and going days without seeing chuuya is all worth it when you finally reunite and get to see him again like this.

#dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #dazai x you #chuuya x you #bsd x you #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #dazai x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #fem!reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd #bungo stray dogs #skk x reader #skk #᯽. éli originals

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impala-dreamer · 3 months

Text

Who We're Pretending To Be

A Story from the YOU Universe

~Joe finds himself getting too close to one of his grad students and he fights the urge to fall completely.~

Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) x F!Reader

5,019 Words

Warnings: NSFW.

A/N: If you've not seen the Netflix show YOU, this may not be your thing. Still a great story, but it helps to know the show. Also, if you've not seen the show, I suggest you get right on that because it is AMAZING.

Set between Seasons 3 & 4. Slight spoilers for s4, but not really.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

The classroom seems cold today, like there’s something missing. It’s distracting. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off, but there’s a charge in the air like something’s about to happen; as if lightning could strike at any second.

I don’t mean proverbial lightning, as none of my students seem to have grasped any of the contextual undertones of the book we’re discussing, but actual, live lightning. If I opened the windows behind my desk just a crack, a bolt would sneak through and bury itself in the base of my skull. Maybe that’s what I need- a jolt of electricity, something to break me out of this fog that crept up around me and climbs forever higher threatening to suffocate me.

I think I’d take the lightning to the skull over suffocation, but we don’t always get what we want.

I’m perched on the edge of the desk when the door opens and Y/N comes rushing in.

Suddenly, all of my attention is on her.

She’s never late. Never rushing, always at least ten minutes early for every appointment, every class. She seems- off today, as well. Perhaps she can feel the imminent lightning strike as well. Wouldn’t that be funny? I find a kindred amongst these idiot grad students who can’t even seem to end this horrid debate.

“I am so sorry, Professor Moore.”

Y/N’s voice cracks a bit, which in itself isn’t very unusual. She’s one of the quieter students I’ve encountered, and the only American in my current circle of acquaintances. Her accent is faint, as if she’s attempting to hide it from her schoolmates. She’s been here a while, I can infer; sprinkling in local slang and adding letters to words where back home there would be none. She’s trying hard to fit in, but why? Why not be herself?

“I got held up by-”

I hold up my hand and smile softly. “It’s fine, Y/N. Please take a seat and try to catch up.”

For fuck’s sake, she’s only twenty minutes late, but it looks like every second has weighed her down like lead.

The others pick up their debate and I sit back a bit, cross my arms, pretend to listen. This teaching thing isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out to be. Occasionally, I toss out an idea and let them run with it. Sometimes, I pay attention, mostly I don’t. Mostly I’m thinking of You. Of how beautiful You looked at that art show, of how You gasped when you saw me like You couldn’t decide if You wanted to run to me or away.

From the corner of my eye, I see Y/N timidly raise her hand and You are temporarily pushed aside. She keeps her hand up but close to her chest, as if the very act of asking to speak is somehow terrifying.

How can someone so brave be so terrified to do something as common as speak in class? She’s clearly not a scared person by nature- she moved across an ocean to attend university when she could have gone for free back home to whatever state college she decided to attend. I’ve peeked at her transcripts- she’s smart. Not win a genius grant or a full ride smart, but smart. Why is she so nervous?

I smile and a bit of her nerves seem to quell. Her shoulders relax an inch and she smiles back.

“You know you don’t have to raise your hand, Y/N,” I tell her, laughing gently to put her at ease.

She dips her chin and then looks up with the most beautiful gaze I have ever seen. Her lashes flutter upwards in slow motion, the darkness of her pupils expand, pushing nearly every fleck of color away except the gemlike glow cast by the stained glass window over my head. She smiles and her lips shine like glass. Soft, pink, beautiful glass. I can’t look away and yet I absolutely have to. Thankfully, she speaks and I can act like I’m moving away to sit in my chair and not to get away from her.

“Sorry,” she says, sweet voice sweeping over the room. “I just didn’t want to jump in because I was late but-”

“But you have something to add,” I finish for her.

Her eyes float back to me and the atmosphere shifts. The foreboding of a lighting strike vanishes and the room seems to warm up. Quickly, I sit and scoot the chair close to the desk, set my elbows on the top, clasp my hands near my lips. I can’t stop staring at her.

She nods. “Yes. If that’s alright.”

There it is again, the tiniest speck of British on her tongue. How long has she been living here, and why? It can’t just be for school. She’s too interesting for that. She dresses to blend in; muted colors and clean jeans, her hair always swept back, face free of plastering makeup or too much color. There’s only ever that pink gloss and a gentle brush of mascara. It’s as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is, or perhaps, she doesn’t care.

Or was she one of those kids who never really got any attention until they blossomed but by then it was too late to fit into their personality?

She chews her lip nervously and shyly looks away from me.

No, she knows. She knows how beautiful she is, she just isn’t one to flaunt it; doesn’t need the attention. Or is that how she draws them in?

She’s already talking, but I can’t hear a thing she’s saying. I can hear her voice, that honey like glaze she adds to things when she’s speaking passionately, but the actual words, the meaning- I can’t follow a damned thing. I’m too busy trying to figure her out.

You flash through my mind for a moment; a sweet memory of a smile in the library when You didn’t think I was looking.

What is it about a smile that says so much without words? Does it show who we really are or who we’re pretending to be?

“I just think that love shouldn’t be so easily condemned.”

Y/N’s comment breaks through my thoughts of You and I clear my throat, straighten up in my chair, focus.

Across the room, Nadia rolls her eyes, clearly disagreeing with Y/N’s interpretation. “This isn’t love, it’s obsession. The two can’t and shouldn’t be intertwined.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

What does that lip gloss taste like? Berries, perhaps… No. Stop it. Focus.

“I disagree.” Y/N sits forward and tucks her hands below the table. “Love is obsession. Obsession is love. It’s not a tautology, no, but you can have one with the other. If you’re not even a little obsessed with the person you love, is it really love at all?”

My mind is zinging, my ears ringing. Does she truly believe that, or is it all for the sake of debating Nadia? They’ve been at war most of the semester, but this seems truthful, deep.

The bell rings before I can recenter and add anything. I give my head a little shake and stand up, the chair rolling back behind me.

“Class dismissed. Great job today. Lively, wonderful discourse.” I fake a smile at the rest and then settle on Y/N.

She’s taking her time, hanging back as she gathers her things. She stuffs a notebook into her bag and the pen she’s been using rolls away from her.

“Crap.” She lunges across the table for it, but it’s too close to the edge, too far from her reach.

I drop down at the last second and save it from a dusty fate of rolling across the floor. “Gotcha.”

She’s staring when I stand up. Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, but looks even deeper somehow. A smile lifts her cheeks and my pulse quickens.

No.

She holds out her hand and there’s a fleeting second when I want to trace my fingers across her palm, feel how soft and warm she is, but no. I toss her the pen and turn, trying to get her out of my head.

I have more important things to do than become a tired cliche. Some professor falling for a student. It’s an outrageous thought, and besides, I don’t need Y/N, I have You.

I hear the zipper close and a chair being pushed in. She’s leaving.

She lingers in the door and turns back to me with a sweet smile. “Have a good weekend, Professor.”

Her tone is so genuine, so kind that it nearly knocks me backwards. I can’t remember the last time anyone has truly wished me a good time. It’s such an overused pleasantry, so common and boring, but not when she says it. Not when she smiles at me like that, with her eyes still and focused on me.

The warmth spreading through me is real as well and I can’t seem to push it away. “Thank you,” I managed, barely able to stand let alone return the sentiment. “You too.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly but it feels like forever. Two more classes, two more groups of students droning on about what the author really meant, when none of them, not a single one seems to be able to read between the fucking lines. None of them can step back and see the whole picture, capture the meaning as a universe unto itself and not just a line in black and white on an otherwise blank page.

Y/N could read between the lines. Y/N would understand the sum of it all. She would get it.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

On my walk home, I think about You. Wondering what You’re up to, where You are tonight. The sun is setting, dragging the sky down into a deep pink and I wonder if You are seeing the same colors where You are. Someday, we’ll sit together on an island in the Pacific and see what that sunset looks like. Would You paint it for me, I wonder…

Y/N crosses my mind for a moment as I gaze at the light reflecting off a window as I pass. Would the sunset hit her shining lip gloss in the same way? Would the pink deepen with the sky? Would she smile if she caught me staring, back away if I leaned in to drag my thumb across her juicy, pink bottom lip?

No.

Darkness has settled and I haven’t moved to turn on a lamp. I’m stuck, glued to my sofa, my hands nailed to my thighs. I keep my eyes open for fear of seeing her face, but bouncing around the room looking for a distraction is only giving me a headache. I need to get out. I need something to do. I need-

A knock at the door.

Who would be knocking at my door at nearly ten o’clock at night?

Curiosity pulls me off of the couch and I switch on the lights as I head to the door. The peephole is clouded as fuck, but I can see her outline. My stomach tightens, my shoulders tense.

What is she doing here?

Her hand raises to knock again, but I unlatch the door before her knuckles hand. I find her dangling in the air, her startled face the most appealing thing I’ve seen in ages. Her eyes go wide, her jaw drops just enough to give me a peek at her tongue. Quickly, she rights herself and shies her gaze away. She chews her lip and I notice the pink gloss is gone, replaced by a deeper red.

Everything about her is different tonight. Her hair is down and fresh, her eyes are lined in black and the color blended above brings out the prisms in her eyes. Her clothes are strange as well: a short skirt, tall boots, a blouse that’s too tight to hide anything. There’s a gold string around her throat, something old, a gift perhaps from a dead relative, or a chance find at an antique shop. She would like diving through boxes of discarded wares looking for treasures, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe I’m just distracted by her appearance. Maybe I should stop trying to pick her apart and send her far, far away.

I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed. I’m good. I have to be good for You.

It’s been too long since either of us has said anything and the fact of it is hanging in the air between us like some kind of glowing, awkward sign.

Thankfully, she speaks.

“Um… Hi.”

It isn’t much, but it breaks the painful silence.

I smile, confused but curious. My ultimate downfall.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?”

I should say something about it being inappropriate, something about contacting me only during office hours, but she knows. That’s not why she’s here. I can see it in her eyes.

Her hands are tucked behind her back, I notice. She’s holding something, not just shoving her tits in my face, although, I can’t say that I mind. She sees that I’m looking and turns to the side a bit to hide it more.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming herself, steeling her nerves. Why is she so nervous? What secret is she hiding? What plan has been brewing all day in her head?

That’s it, isn’t it? She was late this morning, distracted and timid because she was planning to come here.

I should be flattered, but I’m too intrigued by her boldness as she slides past me into my flat.

“I know this is highly inappropriate,” she says, the confession like a song on her lips. “But… I… Well…”

Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way while she searches for the right words. It’s endearing and makes me want to sit for hours and listen to her talk, discover exactly who she is and why.

I’m still standing in the open doorway, I realize, so I move aside and let it close. My back presses into the door and I hold my tongue, letting her get to the point.

She’s struggling, dancing around it in her head.

I want to crack open her skull and watch the thoughts spark through the gray matter like shooting stars.

“If you’re worried you’ll get in trouble,” I say, trying to get things moving, “you won’t. I’m just wondering why you’re here and how it is that you know where I live.”

She laughs and digs her tooth into the corner of her lip. “I’m not… stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“Nothing that nefarious,” she goes on. “But I did do something bad.”

The nerves seem to fall away from her the more she speaks and her demeanor changes. Her voice deepens ever so slightly and her hip pops to the side as she looks me over. Is she… flirting with me?

“I doubt you’ve done anything newsworthy, Miss Y/L/N…”

She takes a step forward and her lips pucker gently.

She is flirting with me.

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “You see, I work part time in the admin office…”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know a lot about her. So many things to uncover, so many artifacts to dust off and examine.

“OK…” I push off from the door and take a step towards her. She counters, stepping backwards, guiding me to follow.

“And, well, I accidentally was looking at your files and-”

“Accidentally?”

She presses her tongue between her front teeth and smiles, eyes falling across my face. “Accidentally on purpose,” she clarifies. “I was… curious.”

“About me?”

Another step closer but she doesn’t move this time, letting me close the space between us by a few forbidden inches.

She sighs sweetly. “A little, yes.”

I dip my chin and look up, lifting my brows in question. She pulls in a quick breath, clearly enjoying the look I’ve given her.

“OK, maybe a little more than a little.”

One more step and I’m closer than I’ve ever really been to her, except just now when she invited herself in. I take a breath and she smells warm like vanilla, sweet like honey. The fantasy of berries on her lips falls away and I suddenly want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and do nothing but breathe in her scent, feel it invade my senses, infect my bloodstream.

Her chest heaves with a heavy breath and her eyes grow a little darker. She wants me.

“Maybe a lot curious,” she whispers, lifting her chin and blinking slowly.

Is she daring me to kiss her? Can she feel the lightning between us? Dare I?

No. She’s a student. She’s off limits. She’s not… You.

She must notice my hesitation and steps back a pace. She clears her throat. “Anyway. I saw that it was your birthday today.”

It’s not my birthday. Not my real birthday, anyway, just the one on the fake passport with the fake name and real photo.

I smile because I have to. “It is.”

Whatever she’s hiding behind her back shifts between her hands. “And, well, it’s presumptuous of me but I’ve never heard you talk much about friends or family and… you don’t wear a… ring. I just… Well, I know how hard it is to be a world away from what you know, and this city isn’t exactly kind in general, so…”

She’s rambling and I don’t ever want her to stop. Her voice ebbs and flows over me like a sultry tsunami and I can feel my fingers twitch, my blood rush through my system faster and faster.

“I just don’t think anyone should be alone or forgotten on their birthday so-” Finally, she reveals the mystery behind her back and holds out a green glass bottle. “I took a chance that you were a scotch man. At first I thought wine, but I know nothing about wine, and the guy at the shop said this one was good, so… Happy birthday, Professor.”

She hands me the bottle and without thinking, I take it. It’s not expensive by any means, but it’s the gesture that counts. She doesn’t let go right away, holding it with me, as if she can communicate her desires through the blown glass.

“Thank you.” I smile, let my finger brush against hers. “This is… very thoughtful.”

She lets go but doesn’t move otherwise. Her eyes are locked on me, her stare so pure.

I have to get her out of here.

Y/N shrugs and smiles, so confident now, so sure. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

Her meaning lingers and I nod, gesture to the sofa as I start to peel off the seal on the top of the bottle.

“Join me for a glass?”

She bites her lip again and I nearly lose it.

“Love to.”

The scotch isn’t terrible but it’s not great. More like something you’d grab if you were just looking to get drunk, not necessarily gift someone you’re trying to impress.

Is that what she’s doing here? Trying to get me drunk? Surely, she knows she’s impressed me long before today. The looks between us in class, the lectures directed almost entirely at her have not gone unnoticed, but this, this is different. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The sofa suddenly feels too small. We sit close, drinking and chatting about life in London. She tells me about her family back home and how she had to cross an ocean to escape a misspent youth and an abusive father figure. I lie my way through a few answers but mostly, I let her talk.

The more she drinks, the looser her tongue gets, the freer her gestures. More than once, her hand falls to my knee and even though I should, I don’t push her away. Even though I should stand up, take her glass, ask her to get the hell out of my house, I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at her lips as she speaks, drown myself in the tone of her voice, memorize the shape of her ears, her nose, slope of her shoulder. I’m lost in time with her and even though I know the clock is careening past midnight, I don’t care. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to move. I want to be frozen in this moment with her. I want to die in her arms but not before…

“Professor?” She laughs gently, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. She leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”

Honestly, I have no idea what she’s been saying, but I can’t let her know that. I shift a bit, turning towards her. There’s barely room left for the Holy Ghost, as they say, but I doubt he’d begrudge me a little closeness, especially on my- on Jonathan’s birthday.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, captivated by the way she’s glowing. “I’m always listening to you.”

She squirms a bit and smiles behind her glass, takes another sip, downing the rest. There’s a drop of amber gold on her lip and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to sweep it away with my tongue.

She pats the back of her hand against it and the moment is gone.

“Ya know, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. And I’m not just sayin’ that. You really are. I get you. I see you, Jonathan Moore. I see inside you.”

She slurs a bit, but not enough for it to be considered a crime if I touch her. That’s all I want to do, just a simple touch. Just to feel how soft she is beneath my fingers, how smooth the curve of her cheek.

Ripping myself away from the impulse, I take the glass from her hand and set hers next to mine on the coffee table. “I think you’ve had enough, Miss. Y/L/N.”

Her hand lands on my chest, right in the very center of me. Can she feel my heartbeat? Does she know how much I want her?

“You can call me by my name, ya know,” she says, dropping her chin and smiling. She’s so close that it would take but a tiny nudge to taste her. “Everyone just calls me Y/N/N.”

This is insane. She needs to leave. I need to slam the door behind her and never open it again.

“Y/N/N.”

Her name falls from my tongue like an incantation and her eyes go hazy. She leans closer, her breath fanning over my lips.

“Say it again,” she asks, nearly begging, “please…”

Fuck, this isn’t good. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I need to- Fuck, what does it all matter? She’s beautiful and interesting and smart and sitting next to me barely dressed and all she wants is me to whisper her name. What’s the harm?

“Y/N/N.”

The spell falls over her and I know it’s too late to back away. Her eyes fall closed and she leans in, pressing her crimson painted lips to mine. She exhales, pushes herself into the kiss, lets out a tiny moan.

She feels so good and it’s all I can think about. She pulls back and I lean in, needing more. My arms wrap around her, stealing her away. She melts against me, opens her lips to my tongue. The vanilla on her skin mixes with the scotch on her tongue and I’m blown away.

“Professor…”

If feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop tasting her, can’t stop breathing into her with every ounce of air in my body.

I let her go for a second, thinking she’s changed her mind, but no, she’s even more ready than I am.

She stands up, fits her knees in between mine and slowly unbuttons her blouse.

My eyes are huge, I know it. I must look like an idiot but I can’t help it. She’s here, beautiful and curvaceous, teasing me, undressing for me. It’s all for me. She’s here for me.

The blouse floats to the floor and she looks down at me, a hint of previous nerves returning. Her bra is pale pink and covered in lace. Something so pure and innocent covering up something I would kill for.

I would, I realize. I would kill for her.

She wiggles out of her skirt and her hips are distracting. I want to touch, to feel my bones crushing into hers, to sink myself deep inside just to see what it’s like, to know her, to feel all of her.

“You like?” she asks, innocence ringing in her soft voice.

What happened in her past that would make her ask such a thing? Who hurt her so badly, who crushed her self esteem to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell if I was enjoying her delicious display?

“Of course. You’re… absolutely stunning.”

I can’t say more or I’ll break. I reach for her and she slides into my lap, locking her thighs around mine. She presses down on me and my cock responds, all blood and logic rushing down to push back at her ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck and bends to kiss me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she curls them, tugs gently, testing, enjoying. Her kisses deepen and her hips roll. I’m about to lose my mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day of class,” she moans, scraping her nails across my scalp.

The sensation is intoxicating and my eyes roll back a bit as she tugs hard. Her right hand is locked in my hair and her left is dragging down my chest. I should stop her. I should stand up. I should…

“Fuck.”

Her hand sneaks into my slacks and she scoots back onto my knees for better access. I can’t even think straight as she rubs at my cock. Her hand is soft, warm, firm. I know I’m moaning, but I can’t help it. I might just die here beneath her.

Her tongue glides across my lips. “So hard to sit in class and not dream about fucking you…”

Something snaps inside of me and I let go. I grab at her tits, peel the delicate lace down and pinch her nipples hard until she’s crying out and arching against me.

“I can’t even read anymore,” she admits, nearly breathless as my lips seal around her left nipple. “Every page makes me think of you. I can hear every word in your voice. I- oh God-”

I bite down just enough to stop her train of thought and I look up to see a blank, beautiful stare.

“I want you,” she whispers, lips never quite closing after.

Fuck. This is what I was trying to avoid. This feeling, this hunger inside of me. This need to fall into someone else, this treacherous lust that forces me to act.

“Please…”

Her hand falls to the nape of my neck and it’s so delicate, so tender that I break.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand and twist, flipping her over onto her back. She gasps and reaches for me, kissing through the shock while I tug the slacks from my hips. She yanks at my shirt, fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons, licking at every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want you inside me so bad,” she sings, nearly praying as if I’m some ancient god on high that can make all her dreams come true.

I don’t know about all of them, but this prayer, I can answer.

I tear the lace from her hips and fall down over her, crushing her into the old sofa. Her breath stops for a blessed second and I swear I can hear her heart racing through the silence. She runs her hands across my shoulders and down, curling them around my hips while spreading her legs wider.

“Please… Please… Please…”

Her whine is pathetic but I can’t get enough. If I had it in me to drag this out, to tease her for hours, I would, but the scotch has clouded my head and the sight of her strung out and desperate makes it impossible to wait.

She inhales hard when I sink into her. I can feel myself falling but I press my hands beside her head and hold on as best I can.

She feels like heaven.

Or the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know.

Wet and warm and tight, I can feel her throbbing around me. Every thrust is like magic, making her shiver and squirm and tighten up even more. She clings to me, nails digging into my arms, mouth searching and thirsty for more.

“Jon-”

I almost go insane. It’s not even my name, but it feels so right on her lips that I wish it was.

I feel her orgasm; her body clenching down on me and pulling me in deeper. It’s so hard not to scream her name at the top of my lungs. Nearly impossible not to stay here forever.

I fall down, shove my face into the crook of her neck and thrust a few more times. I know it’s over too soon, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She rakes her hand through my hair, gently this time, and finds my lips, kissing me sweetly.

“Hi,” she laughs when our eyes finally focus and find each other through the afterglow.

God, she’s beautiful. So giving, so loving, so perfect in a million different ways that it’s actually breaking my heart.

I smile and peck her lips as I go soft inside of her.

“Hello, You.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05

#joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg x you #you tv series #you netflix #one shot

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futfemfantasies · 6 months

Text

Kisses ~ Sam Kerr x Matildas!reader

Ever since Sam leaned in and kissed you for the first time in your car on a rainy first date, she has used the simple gesture as a form of love. On the flight back to London you're missing Sam just that little bit extra so you think of all the different types of kisses Sam would give you.

Rushed forehead kisses

You and Sam both play your club soccer in England but for different teams. You for your beloved Arsenal with Steph, Caitlin and now Kyra and Sam for her Chelsea. This meant you both trained on different days and left early in the morning while the other was still asleep. Today was one of those days. You had the day off while Sam had a 8am training and gym session straight after.

The bed dips slightly as you feel a light touch on your face. You open your eyes to see Sam softly smiling down at you while you adjust to the light in the room.

"Good morning my love. I have to go, but I wanted to say bye"

You lean up and give Sam a quick hug before she quickly kisses you on the forehead and bolts out the door. You laugh to yourself as you heard Sam trip on her pair of shoes you asked her to move at least 3 times in the past day.

Knuckle kisses

Sam surprised you with a short 4 day holiday away in the English countryside since you both were injured and your teams are playing away this weekend. Your shared bag is in the car and you couldn't be more excited to have some alone time with Sam. Sam walks quickly to your side and opens the door like the gentlewomen she is and you give her a kiss as a thank you. You being the designated passenger princess in the relationship meant you get to control the music for the trip.

As the buildings passed and various music genres have been sung by both of you, Sam moves her hand from your thigh and grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. You blush at the gesture and squeeze Sam's hand 3 times as a silent way to tell her you love her.

"What's that for baby?"

You ask in confusion.

"Nothing really. I just adore you so much and I wanted to show it"

Sam looks at you with her trademark smile and you melt then and there. That was the moment you knew that you were going to marry this girl.

Grateful kisses

It's one of those days again where you had the day off and Sam had training so you decided to do the grocery shopping before you and Sam were meeting up with Steph, Caitlin and Macca for dinner. As you turned the trolley down various aisles, you noticed some of the chocolates that Sam enjoys and decided to surprise her with them. Grabbing the sweet treat, you turn around to see a bouquet of her favourite flowers. You put them in the trolley and continue of with your shop.

When you arrive home, you put the treats and flowers on the kitchen bench with a note that reads just because xx . You put all the food away in its place and you remember the Mount Everest of laundry that's on your bed. As you started folding, you hear the front door open.

"Baby?"

Sam calls out as she rounds the corner to see the flowers and treats.

"Bedroom!"

You hear quick and heavy footsteps before two strong arms wrap around your waist and kisses flooding your cheek and the side of your neck.

"Thank you for the flowers and chocolates"

"I remember you said you liked them so I bought them for you"

Sam turns you around and holds your hips close to her. She moves a small piece of your fringe away and holds your cheek like it's made from glass. Sam's lips join yours and the kiss sends you both end up on top of the laundry.

"I'm so grateful for you and I don't tell you enough"

"You show me in different ways and that's all that matters. I'm grateful for you too Sammy"

Shoulder kisses

Sam had a late training and media duties day again for Chelsea so you decided to make her favourite dinner. After getting back from the store 30 minutes before Sam was due to arrive, you quickly got to work in the kitchen. Just as you put the wooden spoon down from stirring the pasta, you feel arms around you and small kisses on your shoulder. You lean back into Sam and she mumbles something into you shoulder.

"What was that honey?"

"I said, it smells like home in here"

Sam replies with a sad tone.

You turn around in her arms and caress Sam's cheek with a pout on your face.

"At least we're going back for Christmas break. Only 2 more weeks my love"

You say hoping to cheer up your now fiancé.

"I guess you're right. Having you here with me helps that home sickness go away"

"You name it and I'll do my best to help babe"

Sam smirks at your suggestion and you playfully hit her chest.

"Not like that you perve!"

#womens soccer #woso #woso soccer #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt #sam kerr x reader

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magicalbats · 7 months

Text

Flesh-Devouring Part 4

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 25,488

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

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

Header credit goes to the oh so lovely @jymwahuwu💕

⭐

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was love, wasn’t it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sound.

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

“I can help - -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not call me that.”

A terse pause.

“Are we back to that again?”

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

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

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

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

“You don’t mean that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His parents?

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

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

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

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

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

“Gods, I hate this …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it hits you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you tell him everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you still sentenced him to prison?”

“I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sit up a little straighter. “Me?”

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

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

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

A pause.

“Do you love him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want something to drink?”

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

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

“Were you waiting long?”

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

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

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

“Me too …”

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

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

He nods once, further bolstering your courage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said don’t tease me!”

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

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

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

“You needn’t thank me for that …”

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

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

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

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

“Until my dying breath.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She gave me lipstick, your grace.”

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

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

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

“Hm? Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, when he put it like that …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y - your grace …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was this how his cock would feel inside you?

“Aahhnn … oh, gods! That’s - -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Wriothesley - -“

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

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

“Ready for the next round, pretty girl?”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t tease me …”

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

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

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

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

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

“Only for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“S - sir?”

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

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

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

“… secure.”

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

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

“It’s on the desk.”

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

You had rather liked putting your mouth all over him.

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

“Not getting distracted, are we?”

“… n - no, sir.”

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

He wanted to put it on you himself?

Slowly, you nod. “Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you to take a good, long look at this, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmurs, wrapping his forefinger and thumb around the thickest part of him to cover the lipstick stain. “This is how much of me your cute pussy is going to take too. It’s going to stretch you out just the same way it just did to your mouth. Can you imagine it, how it’s going to feel?”

You nod your head before you’ve even fully processed the question, shuddering so hard it makes your eyes vibrate in their sockets.

“Good. Then I want you to keep thinking about it while I fuck your mouth instead.”

A startled little sound of confusion bursts out of you, but he presses on the back of your head before you can form a coherent thought and you noise a muffled groan when his cock fills your mouth again. Holding you in place rather than guiding your head up and down, he instead flexes his hips to drive that rigid length back and forth over your tongue. His thrusts remain careful and controlled, sedate enough to give you a chance to breathe, but that does absolutely nothing to detract from the sympathetic flutter you feel deep inside your cunt.

It’s almost horrifyingly easy to imagine it, in fact. The same sensation of all that smooth, velvety skin working in and out of your body, how seamless the glide would be, how warm he would feel lodged deep within your guts. You almost couldn’t believe how hot it actually makes you to think about it, like you were liable to combust and catch fire at any moment. If you’d had the ability to, you probably would have been begging him to take you right then and there.

“I wish you could see how utterly ravishable you look right now, little miss. That lipstick really does make you look absolutely irresistible … and it looks even better smeared all over my cock. I almost want to cum all over your lips and paint them white.”

At your groaning, half choked sound of question, he issues another low laugh.

“That’s right, I’m going to hold out for that sweet pussy. This is just the warm up … but oh, what a warm up it is. I think you’re enjoying it too, aren’t you?”

You screw your eyes shut and weakly push at his thigh with your bound hands, but he just readjusts his hold to better keep you in place. His palm was so big it almost seemed to dwarf your entire head, and you violently shudder at how small he made you feel. Everything from his hands down to his cock was just so large …

Would your cunt really be able to take the whole thing?

Gasping raggedly when Wriothesley finally pulls you off him some moments later, you rock back to cough and sputter. Undeniably grateful for the reprieve, you blearily look at the bobbing length between you only to mewl softly at the glistening thread of spittle still connecting him to your raw mouth. Your chin was coated in it too, but he just brings his hand down to swipe it away without another thought to the matter.

“Feeling good so far, little miss?”

At your breathless nod, he tenderly cups the side of your face for a moment before giving it a light pat. “Good girl. Let’s move on to the next part then, shall we?”

Still wheezing and trying to catch your breath, you watch him reach over into the bag and pull out — another red strip of fabric? You didn’t understand. Was he going to tie your ankles next, or - -

He shuffles right up to you then and you suddenly forget how to breathe with that spit coated cock straining out towards your chest, so close you could have easily taken it back into your mouth again. Before you can even think to do it though, he brings that second piece of cloth close to fix your attention on it instead.

“I’m going to cover your eyes with this, if you’ll allow me to. You won’t be able to see or use your hands much, but you’ll still be able to talk. I’m not going to gag you or anything like that, pretty girl, so you can still change your mind later. Does that sound agreeable?”

You hesitate just a moment, ever so slightly unnerved at the thought of having your sight taken away, but you trusted him. Implicitly. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl,” He murmurs, and that vaguely secretive smile is the last thing you see before he slips the strip over your eyes and reaches around to tie it off at the back of your head.

Your heart rate immediately picks up with a muted jolt, but you don’t feel any true panic. Just a bit of nerves. Some excitement mixed in with it. You were undeniably curious to find out what, exactly, he had planned for you, and the promise of his cock at the end certainly helped further sweeten the deal.

“There. Don’t you look pretty.” You feel him bend close and press a kiss to the top of your head. “Lipstick smeared and blindfolded … almost makes me wish I had a kamera on hand.”

Your chest hitches. “Your grace - -“

“Shh. I was only joking.” He soothes you, caressing broad knuckles down the side of your face.

You aren’t so sure you appreciate the humorous tone in his voice, but you promptly forget all about it when he gently guides you back to lay out on the bed. Holding your bound hands over your stomach, you somewhat awkwardly brace for him to climb on top of you, to claim you, thinking that was his intention in keeping you unawares. Rather than that though, you feel the mattress beside you dip down slightly with his weight. Then, out of the blue, calloused fingers squeeze around the meat of your breast to make you jolt.

“So jumpy,” Laughing under his breath, Wriothesley takes a moment to just knead the swell of your chest and give you a chance to relax into it before proceeding any further. “Do you recall what I told you the night before the fundraiser, little miss?”

You frown slightly, too caught up in the way his fingertips sink into your skin to have much higher thought process left at your disposal. “I’m not sure … it feels like so much has happened since then. I don’t think I do.”

“All the better then.”

Opening your mouth, you start to question it, but all that comes out is a surprised squeak when he directs his fingers to your nipple. The delicate bud had started to grow soft in the warm fog surrounding you, but now it springs back up while he pinches and tweaks it, stiltedly plucking the dense cluster of nerves back to straining attention. You think, idly, that you should probably close your mouth instead of letting it hang open in such a brazen and unladylike manner but you can’t quite seem to accomplish that right now. Especially not when he switches to the other breast, taking your second nipple between his blocky thumb and forefinger, and you promptly loose another faltering sound of pleasure.

Back and forth, just like that, he teases and plays with your tits until you’re squirming on top of the sheets and squeezing your thighs together in a blithe attempt to alleviate some of the building pressure there. He’s entirely relentless about it though, even when you weekly lift your hands as if to block or otherwise push him away he just reaches around to attack the other side. It felt a bit like being bullied … no, that was exactly what it felt like and you were ashamed to say it was driving you crazy! Never before had your teats felt so very stiff and sensitized, his rough fingertips providing the perfect amount of friction to leave your toes tightly curled.

It was almost too much, in a way … but it also doesn’t escape your notice that you were technically free to pull away from him at any point. With him sitting beside you, you could have rolled over in the opposite direction to escape the torture of his hand but you don’t. The thought never even seriously crosses your mind.

He’d been right to suspect you would like this.

“You’re awfully cute, you know that?” He murmurs after long moments that feel like eons to your punchdrunk mind. You twitch at the sound of his voice, whining softly — but it quickly cuts off with a sharp gasp when his other suddenly joins the fray, and both of your nipples are being pinched and pulled, and rubbed, and your back almost violently bows from how hard you writhe. “Mmm, I still think you could cum just from having your chest played with, if it went on long enough … would you like to try it, sweet girl? Want me to see if I can make you break apart like this?”

He accompanies this question with a twist of his wrists, tweaking both nipples just so, and you very nearly levitate right up off the bed. “Ooohh, no, no, no, please, sir, no more! I — I don’t think I can take it …”

“Hearing you say that just makes me want to keep going, you know.”

Another tweak, to make you jolt and let out a half strangled sob. “Please, Wriothesley … n - no more …”

To your great relief, he does indeed pull away and your tits achingly throb in the aftermath, so raw and stiff it pulls a faltering little mewl out of you. “Alright, since you asked so nicely I suppose we can move on … think you’re ready for this, sweet girl?”

Weakly twisting on the sheets, you blindly tip your face in the general direction his voice was coming from. It sounded like he was reaching into the bag again, or … perhaps removing his clothes? “I — I don’t even know what’s coming to say if I’m ready for it or not.”

A faint chuckle from him tickles your ears, and it makes you sensitively shudder on top of the bed. “See why I’m doing it this way now? Pretty little masochists like you deserve to be surprised, and you don’t get the chance to let your mind get the better of you.”

A sharp zap of static electricity races down your spine, pussy clenching uncomfortably tight as you fitfully squeeze your thighs together. “Is … is it going to hurt, sir?”

Softly cooing at you, Wriothesley carefully places his hand across your stomach and rubs comforting circles over you for a moment. “Ooh, isn’t that a precious question for you to ask me? And in such a soft little voice too … you’re really testing my self control over here, you know that?”

You bite down on your lip, not quite trusting yourself to speak anymore, and he gives you one final, affectionate pat before pulling away. The loss of his touch leaves you shuddering there on the bed but thankfully it doesn’t take long for him to come back. You’re a bit surprised when he nudges himself right up against your side and goosebumps promptly erupt over your skin at the sensation of his now bare thigh on your hip. He doesn’t completely straddle you though, slight uncertainty creeping in when he merely grabs your bound hands and then presses them up above your head to pin against the mattress. Letting out a tiny mewl of confusion, you weakly twist against his hold but it’s no use. You’re trapped.

“Shall I give you a moment to struggle and realize you’re helpless like this,” He drawls in a tone laced with leather suggestion. “Or are you going to take my word for it?”

You try to speak but nothing comes out. Swallowing your nerves hard enough it almost makes you gag, you have to force your tongue to formulate the words. “I believe you.” It’s little more than a mouse squeak but he hums in clear approval.

“Good girl. Now, for this I want you to keep still for me, alright? You’re allowed to squeal or cry, or anything else you want, but you need to stay in one place. Do you understand me?”

“Y - … yes, sir.”

Wriothesley shifts over top of you, whispering soft praise while he does it, and you just manage to make out a soft rattle of … metal? It sounded a bit like a dainty chain of some sort but, other than the ones on his usual outfit, you had no idea what it could be. Even trying to tip your head all the way back to peer under the blindfold doesn’t give you so much as a glimpse and you have to fight against the urge to click your tongue. A part of you almost wanted to tell him this wasn’t necessary anymore, that he had you so soaking wet and in need of friction on your leaking cunt that you would have done anything at all to get it but — before you can even think to say it, you feel him reach for your breast.

You instinctively stiffen up, expecting pain, but you’re not sure what it is exactly that you’re bracing for. Would it be soft at first like when he’d spanked you with his belt or immediate and blistering like his hand usually was?

The answer comes in the form of something — something hard and unrelenting, and cool to the touch — slowly coming down around your nipple. At first you’re only vaguely aware of it but it quickly ratchets up in intensity the more it closes down. Your mouth drops open as if to scream yet nothing comes out. You don’t even seem to remember how to breathe as you feel it gradually pinch the stiff teat tighter and tighter, and somehow even tighter until … at last, he pulls his hand back. But the crushing force around your nipple stays. It’s blindingly intense and your mind immediately blanks out with the onset of pain. Embarrassingly enough, you squeal.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmurs, barely heard over the deafening pound in your ears. You shake so hard it makes the stinging tip of your breast hurt even worse, prompting you to twist against him in earnest now, but he all too easily keeps your hands pinned above your head. “It’s a lot all at once, isn’t it? Just give yourself a moment to process. There you go. Deep breaths … you’re being such a good girl for me tonight, wearing my pretty little toys on your pretty tits. Now I really do wish I had a kamera.”

You suck in a sharp, seething breath. Toys? Suddenly that conversation in the fortress comes crashing back to you, and it makes you shudder at the memory of kneeling on the lounge in his office, naked from the waist down and getting your bottom spanked. The thought alone almost seems to send you over the edge, and you pitifully try to grind your obscenely drooling cunt down on the bed for even a modicum of relief. So this was one of those clamps he was telling you about, then. You think you might like to see it but … maybe you weren’t quite brave enough for that just yet.

“Still with me, little miss?”

“Oh — ooohhnn … Wriothesley, I - -“

“Do you think you need to tap out?”

Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Finally you settle on a stilted shake of your head.

“Alright. Don’t worry about trying to talk right now unless you need to tell me you want a break. I’m sure it’s probably pretty damn hard for you to even think right now, isn’t it?”

You nod this time, whimpering softly at the note of humor in his voice. Of course you were well aware of his borderline sadistic tendencies, the perfect compliment to your own, evidently masochistic ones, but somehow you hadn’t expected him to enjoy it this much.

No, maybe that wasn’t quite right.

It was more like you hadn’t realized just how deep your own depravity ran, and so you’d underestimated his too. You hadn’t been able to even conceive of anything beyond the belt let alone whatever this was, even when he explained it to you, and you almost felt a little foolish in retrospect. Of course there was more beyond just spanking you and bossing you around that he would like.

Pulled back into the moment by his rough worn palm smoothing over your ribcage, you force your lungs to expand on a painfully deep breath. He softly coos at you, encouraging you to keep taking slow inhales as his hand retreats from you again. You feel the clamp on your sore teat nudge slightly to accompany the quiet jangle of metal and you quickly put two and two together. There was a chain connecting the two pieces. But if he clamped both tits and then tugged on it then —

“Ooh!” It blurts out of you in a sudden rush and he pauses somewhere above you, hovering for a moment.

“If you can’t keep yourself still I’ll have to actually tie you down to the bed. Not that I don’t think you’d enjoy it, but I figured you would appreciate having more freedom of movement for this. Trust me when I say you don’t want me to catch you wrong, though. That’ll hurt way worse.”

Wheezing, you force yourself to stop squirming even though it takes every ounce of self control you have, especially when you feel him reach for the other breast. Somehow the dulling pain in the first made the anticipation of the second so, so much more worse, and you clench your teeth as the pincers slowly start to come down on delicate skin. Same as before, he goes slow with it to give you enough time to adjust and brace against it, but that also makes it so you’re forced to feel each bit of pressure as it’s gradually applied in stunning high definition. Toes flexing tight enough to hurt, you wait until he pulls away and leaves the clamp stuck to your breast before writhing in place as sedately as you can manage.

You felt truly wild with it but the constant, squeezing pinch on both nipples kept you somewhat grounded for fear of pulling on them and causing even more discomfort. The worst part of all, though, was the fact you’d never been wetter in all your life. Even taking into account at least some of the mess between your legs was lingering saliva from earlier, that still didn’t account for the sheer flood of arousal making your cunt feel sticky and almost obscenely juicy.

Distantly, you realize that you really were on the verge of begging him just to stuff you full without any concern for your previous worries about being able to take him. You knew you could. You just knew it, beyond a shadow of a doubt now.

“Aren't you the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen?” Wriothesley murmurs, pulling you just a bit more out of your reeling stupor when he smooths his big hand up your fluttering stomach. “I don’t even have to ask if you’re enjoying this. I can tell you are by the way you keep trying to grind that sweet pussy on the bed. It’s not working though, is it? Poor thing … you need some real attention between your legs now, don’t you?”

You nod your head slowly, hissing faintly when his fingertips brush the chain and jostle the clamps just enough to make fresh stabs of hurt go through your tits. He coos at you and lightly, tauntingly, gives the metal link a purposeful nudge to make the attached pincers pull, and you really start to think you’re going to lose it.

“P - please, sir, please … I’m — ooohhh, I’m begging!”

“And what are you begging for, little miss? Can you tell me?”

“I … I want …” Choking down a lungful of air, you tip your face down as if to look at yourself but of course it doesn’t work. You’d never felt quite so … powerless before, and it was overwhelmingly amazing. Potent in the worst possible way. “I want it — in my pussy, sir, please!”

“Oho, that’s mighty crass coming from you, pretty girl. I was starting to wonder if I’d ever break you down enough to make you talk like that.” He chuckles softly at your mewling whimper, dragging his hand back down the length of your body. You go stock still, though, when he dips between your legs and, sure enough, you’re so thoroughly coated in slick that his fingers just wetly slide over your folds. “Is this where you want it? Come on, use your words for me.”

“Y - yes, sir. I want it there. Please. I’m begging.”

“And you’re doing such a good job. But what do you want specifically? My fingers?”

You shudder violently when his digits curl back to tease at your entrance, just flirting with the suggestion but not actually breaching you. “Ohh … no, no, not that, sir, please.”

“Hm? Could it be you want my mouth on you again? Greedy girl. Do you want to sit on my face that badly?”

Quietly seething, you shake your head. “Please, sir, I … I want — I want your cock, sir. I - in my pussy, please. I need it.”

He breathes out a low, rumbling groan to that. “You need it? Well, then of course you’ll have it. Good girls who tell me what they want only have to ask once, you know.”

You feel him lean over you then, getting close, and a tremulous smile pulls at your mouth seconds before he kisses you, slow and deliberate. Your chest heaves in excitement as much as at the steady thrill of pain coursing through your system, and you eagerly try to follow him when he pulls back a moment later.

“I’m going to let go of your hands and I want you to carefully sit up, alright? Mind you don’t catch your pretty little chain on anything. Understood?”

“Yes, sir …”

Another brief kiss pressed to your mouth seals the deal, and then Wriothesley is sitting back to give you some small amount of space. You feel his presence right next to you though, and you find a great deal of comfort in that as you gingerly sit upright with the help of his steady hands. Gently he turns you towards him so he can half lift, half drag you into his lap. The motion jostles the clamps, making you mewl like something small and wounded, but he gets you settled against him quickly enough that the shuddering chain stills again. You have to remind yourself to keep breathing as he carefully nudges further back onto the bed until you seem to be situated somewhere in the middle. Then, you feel him lay out underneath you and you brace your hands against his firm stomach to help balance your weight.

You were a little surprised though, if you were being honest. Quite surprised, in fact.

“You won’t be on top, sir?”

“Not this time, sweetness. I figured it would make you feel better about taking me if you could control the depth and the speed you want to go at. Oh, don’t make that face. Even blindfolded I can tell you’re thinking about calling me a big oaf again.” Laughing quietly, a bit thickly, he reaches up to squeeze your hips in both hands and then reaches further back to grab your ass.

Swat! Swat! In quick succession, one cheek and then the other, to leave you swaying dizzily on his hips. You were almost too stunned to react.

“Oooh …”

“I believe you’re still due for a spanking anyway, and I can’t very well take care of your bottom if I’m on top, can I?” At your seething nod, he squeezes the swell of one cheek and gives it a solid jostle. “That’s what I thought. You love getting your ass spanked, don’t you lovely girl?”

“Yes, sir, I … I do. But,” You lick your lips, gathering your courage. “Is this a punishment, or … maintenance?”

“Hm, I was actually thinking this one would just be for pleasure. Why? Do you think you need one or the other?”

You consider that for a long stretch, a very difficult task when your nipples were burning sore and aching every time the clamps so much as shifted with you. It felt amazing, but it was also making it nigh impossible to think straight. “Maintenance, sir. I think.”

“Then that is what you will have.” Swat! To make you lurch and shiver on top of him. “Thank me for spanking your ass, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”

Whining low in your throat, you arch and impotently grind your soaked cunt down on his stomach. “Nnghn, thank you, sir! Thank you! Can — can I have your cock now?”

Growling so heavily it seems to bleed from him straight into you, Wriothesley’s fingers dig into your hips and scoot you down a little further until you feel the distinct brush of coarse pubic hair touch your inner thigh. Your throbbing cunt positively clenches as you gladly let him tip your pelvis forward until you're half laying on top of him, even when it makes the chain attached to your nipples pool across his skin. One hand drags up to clutch your waist, squeezing the love handles there, while the other reaches back to give you another hard swat across the ass cheek.

“Eek! T - thank you, sir!”

The next slap doesn’t come. Instead you feel the head of his cock nudge up against you from behind, guided by his hand, and you go ramrod stiff on top of him. Your mouth slowly drops open as if to scream but nothing comes out while he tauntingly draws himself over your folds, bumping your clit on occasion and mostly just teasing your drenched entrance. The muscle squeezes each time he gets close, trying to pull him in, but he seems content to take his time with it. Up and down, up and down — it was driving you mad, and you plaintively rear back in your desperation.

“P - pleeeaase, I want it!”

“Then take it, little miss. Help yourself.”

His cock abruptly stills, pressed right against your squeezing hole, but it doesn’t push up. It doesn’t move. Just sits there, waiting, and you pitifully groan when you realize what he’s doing. With a weak little mewl, you clench your hands where they’re braced on his stomach and carefully, hesitantly start to ease back. Your heart slams a deafening beat in your ears, but all you can seem to focus on is the slow pressure of your body taking him in. It’s stilted and gradual in this position with you at the helm, and yet you’re so incredibly wet that there’s not much resistance to show for it.

The glans is smooth and fleshy as it penetrates your cunt, sliding right into place within you. You’re immediately aware of how very warm he is, how smooth, and you suck in a thin breath to steady yourself before sinking further down. Inch by excruciating inch, he slips into the tight sleeve of your pussy and stretches you open around him in the process. It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling full, and you have to pause to steady your nerves when it’s only a third of the way in.

“God, you feel amazing,” Wriothesley practically gasps, his voice so thick and strained he sounds genuinely distressed in your cotton stuffed mind. The hand on your waist just squeezes tighter, clutching you like he was afraid you might disappear. “Go at your own pace, baby. Fuck yourself on me just like that and work your way up to it.”

The dangling chain on your tits clatters softly and drags over his abdomen when you gingerly angle your hips up and then press them back down. Even for as subdued as the downward thrust is, it still has you moaning at how good he feels penetrating you. So you do it again, ever so slowly rocking your heaving body against the cock behind you until you find a steady rhythm. You weren’t sure how much of him you were actually taking yet, but you knew you already felt stuffed. He was thick and heavy, and the delicious glide of skin just makes you even hungrier for more.

Mindless with your need, you pull him in a little deeper on the next slow motion plunge, and Wriothesley outright seethes underneath you.

“Ohh, that’s it, sweetheart, just like that. You look so good stretching out that pretty pussy on my cock … and your tits — bless the seven, I knew you’d love my toys. Your nipples were made for this, weren’t they?”

You start to nod your head, so focused on grinding your cunt over him that you aren’t really sure what you’re agreeing with. It doesn’t seem to really matter though. Wriothesley lets go of your hip so he can reach up and give the chain a taunting tug but the pressure on your poor teats was so great that it makes you shriek as if he’d struck you full force. The discomfort is so sharp and blinding your hips falter, and you sink even further down on his length when you give a subconscious jerk. Your cunt suddenly feels ten times more full, a feat you hadn’t thought possible, and for a moment you just freeze on top of him.

It was all you could do just to keep drawing air into your lungs. You felt like you were going to implode in the most literal sense.

But, evidently, you had enough of him sheathed inside you that he could remove his hand now, and he reaches up to swat your ass again. “Do you even realize how much you’re squeezing me right now? And you just keep getting tighter every time I spank you or pull on your tits … who would have ever thought such a sweet girl could be this much of a masochist?”

Chest heaving, you fitfully turn your head this way and that as if seeking him out through the blindfold. “Please, sir, oh gods above, please move!”

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want to, trust me — shit, it’s taking everything I have not to slam myself balls deep in you right this second. But I want you to do this by yourself first. Can you do that for me?”

You whine and shake, legs trembling from the effort of holding your cunt in place when you wanted nothing more than to bury him inside you straight down to the hilt. He was so big that it was still overwhelming though, especially when your mind was positively drowning in the absolute rush of sensation assaulting you all at once. The warm handprints on your ass, the clamps on your tits, the soft silk binding your wrists together and the one around your eyes, the sheer presence of him sitting inside your body.

Weakly, you sink down another inch and let out a frantic, keening sound of pleasure.

“Oooh, good girl. You’re almost there. Just another push and you’ll be sitting on my cock.”

It’s almost alarming to hear that there’s still more of him to take, but after having it shoved almost down your throat you had a pretty good grasp on his size. You could tell you were almost down to the widest part now just by the nearly obscene stretch of your cunt lips around him, and you take a moment just to grind yourself with the faltering motions of your hips. It didn’t hurt, nor was it uncomfortable, it was just — a lot to process all at once. A big hurdle.

But just like every other time he’s pushed you right to the limit, Wriothesley remains a steady, comforting presence underneath you. His soft praise continues to rain over you even while he pinches the meat of your ass hard enough to make your toes curl, or he nudges the chain to rattle your nipple clamps. It really is too much and, feeling delirious with it, you finally relax your legs and allow your weight to sink you down the rest of the way until you’re at last firmly seated on his cock.

You feel so horribly stretched out and full that you just sit there, twitching on top of him, while Wriothesley groans low in his throat. His hips shudder with the instinctive urge and masculine drive to thrust up, to lose himself in the tight wet warmth of your cunt, but he refrains. Even when it’s obviously taking every ounce of willpower he possesses, he still waits for you to get your bearings straight and suck in a haggard gasp.

“Wriothesley, please …”

“Shh. I’ve got you, pretty girl.” He sounds almost as flustered as you do now, and you groan very softly when he smooths those big palms over your ribs again. “You did so well. Are you ready for me to move?”

“Yes, sir.”

Drawing a slow breath to steady himself, he drags his hands down to hold your hips instead. You feel him shift under you, jostling you slightly, and you think he must be adjusting his feet where they’re braced on the bed. That’s the last semi coherent thought you have, because he rolls his hips up in the next moment and the pressure inside you doubles, triples, leaves you choking on the blinding sensation of his cock pressing so deep you can practically taste it on the back of your tongue. All you can do is cry out in blissful agony as he gradually falls into a rhythm, just grinding up into your pulpy cunt for a long moment until you start to feel well and truly faint.

Then, his own heaving groans increasing with it, Wriothesley starts to carefully thrust in and out of you, somewhat sedately at first but it quickly starts to pick up speed. The force of his flexing hips driving into you rocks you and, with it, so does the chain start to bounce and pull on your tits. Your already frantic sounds of pleasure soon take on a dire tinge, everything almost too much for you to process in that moment. You felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces. He was breaking you, splitting you straight down the middle, and - -

Swat!

The sting of his hand across your ass immediately grounds you, startles you out of your own head, and you lurch on top of him.

“Ooh! God! W - Wriothesley!”

He grunts somewhere seemingly far below you, driving his cock through your squeezing passage a little harder. A little faster. “How’s it feel, pretty girl? Nnghhn … you like how that cock feels deep in your pussy?”

“I love it!”

Noising a rumbling sound of satisfaction, he slaps your bouncing ass again, and stars erupt across your eyes. “I knew you would. I told you, didn’t I? I’m going to make sure you’re well taken care of no matter what … oohhnn, yeah, squeeze me tighter, little miss. That’s it. Are you about to cum for me?”

You jerk your head in a quick nod, unable to find your voice when it felt like the pressure inside you was starting to collapse in on itself. There was too much of it. Too much stimuli, too many different sensations. Pleasure and pain so horribly intermingled that you couldn’t even tell what was what anymore. Your nipples were screaming in agony, but it felt so good you could have sobbed. His cock was easily the most pleasure inducing of all, but the way it forces your clenching muscles open again and again, and again made it toe the line of discomfort. His hand - -

Swat!

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

You’re completely blindsided when you do just that.

Your pussy spasms on the drop of a coin, sending you into a wild fit of convulsions. You mindlessly shriek and dig your nails into his hard stomach, desperately trying to steady yourself before you can vibrate right off him. But the waves of crashing ecstasy just keep coming, over and over, rocking you straight to the marrow of your bones. Wriothesley hisses at the sensation of your body wildly trying to milk him but he keeps fucking you through it, persistent even now. All you can do is hold on for dear life, and quake so hard the bed rattles from the force.

“Oh, fuck,” He pants when you finally start to come down from it some moments later, and the uncontrollable tremors working through your shuddering frame begin to ease up into sensitive twitching. His thrusts gradually slow as well to leave you wheezing on top of him, your cunt weakly palpitating around him where he remains wedged inside you.

It was … by and far, the most amazing experience of your life, and you practically collapse into his arms when he reaches up to tug you close. You would have been perfectly content to snuggle up against his chest right then and there, but the clamps tug at your breasts to make you whine.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Come here, let’s get these off you.” As gentle as can be, Wriothesley gathers you close with one hand curled around your back while the other reaches for one of your tits. “Fair warning, this is going to hurt. I want you to breathe through it, okay?”

At your bubbling nod, you feel him take the clamp in his fingers and — your mouth promptly drops open to scream when the metal pincers start to retract. All that comes out is a hurt, tiny little mewl of pain though, and he issues a faltering sigh when your pussy clenches around him tight. You can feel the skin sticking to the merciless contraption as he steadily pulls it loose, and you really do sob when all that’s left in the wake of it is a fiercely buzzing ache.

He’s quick to soothe you though, carefully taking the abused bud between his fingers to lightly work out some of the hurt. It’s bad enough to make you seethe, but you can’t quite ignore the way your cunt positively throbs around him. You had no idea what it said about you as a person but you did indeed like it.

Quite a lot, in fact.

“Oh, little miss. Look at you. Your poor nipple really hurts, doesn’t it?” Laughing softly at your stilted nod, he leans up to press a quick kiss to your mouth. “I’d tell you I’m sorry for it but I can tell just how much you like it by the way you keep squeezing me …”

“The other one.” You whimper, dreading it almost as much as you would be glad to have it off.

It seemed like the reverse of having them put on, and now that you were anticipating the agony of the second it made it so incredibly tortuous. But he obliges you, reaching to the other side and … you can’t quite stop yourself from squealing this time, helplessly twisting against him.

“There.” He huffs, tossing the clamps aside to hit the bed somewhere before bringing his hands up to fiddle with the knot behind your head. “I’m going to take this off as well but make sure you give your eyes a moment to adjust, alright?”

You almost think it’s a little silly, for him to be taking care of you like this when he was still sitting hot and heavy, and rock hard inside you but you can’t quite find it in yourself to be upset about it right now. The red silk slips away, and you squeeze your eyes shut against the glare of the light. Wriothesley takes the moment to kiss over your face, paying special attention to your eyelashes where they flutter against your cheeks, and you nearly find yourself drifting off from how very comfortable it is. Nice, and intimate.

But you eventually crack your eyes open and peer up at him, struck by how darkly handsome and enticing he looks in that moment. All ruffled and coated in a fine sheen of sweat, the hunger you still see reflected in his eyes attesting to how badly he wanted to rut up into your pussy but … he doesn’t. Not yet. He just fixes you with that vaguely secretive smile and brushes some of the hair back from your face.

“You look quite pleased,” He murmurs, clearly proud of himself and the mess he’s made of you.

“Aren’t you going to finish?” You whisper as you pointedly rock back against his cock, making him suck in a deep, savory breath.

“I planned on it, you little minx. I just wanted to check in on you first.” Bringing his hand down, he cups the side of your face and just studies you for a long moment. “Would you like to have your hands untied as well?”

“Yes, sir.”

You smile to yourself as he works on getting the knot loose with practiced motions. He’d clearly done this before, many times if you had to take a guess, and suddenly your curiosity couldn’t wait any longer. “Where did you learn about all this stuff?��

“Hm? I told you I got sent to prison.”

“Yes, but,” You frown at that. “What does it have to do with this?”

Wriothesley sends you a meaningful look as the tie comes loose, and he gently rubs over your wrists to smooth out any of the ache there. “Well, I was a teenager, for starters. All kinds of hormones and physical changes going on, and with the crowd that ends up in Meropide I’m sure you can imagine how easily I fell into certain … circles.”

“Oh.” You blink at that, not sure if you should be horrified by that news or not, but he just laughs at the dawning look on your face.

“It’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about. I didn’t participate much at first. Mostly just watched and observed, and learned. It was all very interesting to me at the time, as I’m sure you can imagine, and it wasn’t until much later when I actually found someone to play with. Someone who liked to be in charge as much as she enjoyed getting pushed around, so I got the best of both worlds.”

You sit up a little straighter, wide eyed gaze fixed on his face. “You let someone … do to you what you do to me?”

Wrapping his arms around you now, Wriothesley gathers you close to his chest, looking at you from just a scant few inches away as he settles back against the bed and gets comfortable. “Yes, but I quickly found that I much preferred being in the dominant role. Unlike you, pretty girl, I don’t get very much out of receiving pain … but I certainly enjoy inflicting it.”

Squirming when he pinches at your side, you give his thick arm a quick smack. “Stop that. This is a serious conversation!” An almost ironic thing to say when he was still pulsing inside you but, to your relief, he immediately sobers. “Is … is she still at the prison?”

“No, her sentence ended long before I even became the duke of the fortress and she returned to the surface. And before you ask, I never tried to look for her. There wasn’t ever any reason to. She was just someone to kill time with. The thought of spending any meaningful time with her beyond venting our frustrations and pent up energy on each other didn't so much as cross my mind. Nothing like you. I’d scour every corner of this world without rest just to get you back if we were ever separated like that.”

You can’t help but warm for him, and you happily accept the kiss he leans up to plant on your mouth. It’s a brief exchange though, just enough to have you signing in contentment against him, and then he’s pulling back. The shift in his expression doesn’t go unnoticed, and you’re not at all surprised when he drags those big calloused palms lower to squeeze your ass.

“I think I still owe you a few more spankings … think you’re ready for the rest?”

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, sinking into the comforting warmth of his body as he slowly angles his hips back to drag his cock through your guts. The zap of friction has your toes curling again, but you knew you were well past the point of satiation and would not be finding a third release tonight.

You’re not particularly bothered by that after everything he’d already given you though, so you just lay there across him, leisurely kissing him while he fucks up into you at a tortuously stilted pace. In and out, in and out, just rocking you gently until you think you might doze off and —

Swat!

“Oh!” You give a little jolt, delighting in the spreading warmth across your ass. The dull, aching throbs of your sore nipples and the vague thrum deep in your cunt. You were undoubtedly going to be sore tomorrow, but you didn’t really care. “Mm, thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome, little miss.” He says softly, tipping his head back against the sheets to groan. “You really do have the sweetest pussy … you’re still gripping me so well even after two orgasms.”

Swat! This time accompanied by a tight, squeezing pinch and a rough jostle.

“Nnghn … thank you, sir.”

It’s easy to get lost in it, that intimate, swimming daze floating around you while he fucks you and slaps your bottom red. He never quite picks up the same speed or intensity as he did earlier, and you soon realize that this was entirely for him now. Wriothesley was just enjoying the feel of you wrapped around him, clenching his cock, the soft, wet little clicks he pulls from between your legs as they echo off the walls. It was beyond intoxicating, and you quickly succumb to the hard sting of his hand, just as you always did.

Swat!

“Thank you, sir … oooh … Wriothesley - -“ You cut off with a sharp gasp when the next swing lands, jiggling the meat of your behind from the impact.

“What is it, pretty girl? Don’t tell me you’re ready for round three?” He laughs, low and very close to being breathless.

“No, it’s not that …” A hot, faltering groan slips out of you the next time his cock pushes inside you, and you weakly push up to brace your arms against his broad barrel chest so you can look at him. “I … I just wanted to say … I love you, too.”

A flash of genuine surprise crosses his face, but it’s almost immediately overshadowed by the deep pleasure that settles into place just a second later. “Oh, fuck, baby, why did you say that right now?”

Sensitively gasping, he wraps stiff arms around your body and practically flattens you against him. The rhythm of his thrusts turns messy, no longer smooth and certain, but a bit jerky and uneven now, as if his need to cum had ratcheted far beyond the point of him being able to temper it. He presses his mouth against the top of your head, his breathing turning ragged and quick while he just holds you like that, so thoroughly pinned against the front of him you couldn’t have pulled away even if you’d tried.

You let out a mewling whine when you feel him shudder underneath you, his frame so tense and halting that it almost reignites your own arousal. You’re sure you know what’s coming, but it still surprises you slightly how much he huffs and puffs into your hair at the onset of his release.

“Oooh, gods above … I’m going to cum, sweetheart. I’m going to cum deep inside that tight pussy, okay? Will you let me?”

“Of course, Wriothesley.” You whimper softly, clutching at his tense shoulders. “You don’t have to ask. Cum in me as much as you want.”

He outright seethes at that, hips bucking uncontrollably now. His cock pulses inside you and then twitches, pressing in against your upper wall hard enough to pull a moan out of you, and then it gives a muted little jerk. You can’t help but gasp at the hot, spreading sensation that immediately follows, your pussy fluttering around him as much as the pooling warmth that seems to bleed deep into you. He lets out a final, heaving grunt of deep, masculine pleasure, and then he stills, holding himself through the shuddering tail end of his release while he pumps everything he’s got into your waiting clutch. You sway on top of him, a bit blindsided by how … good it actually felt to have his seed coating your guts in a thick, goopy mess.

You weren’t so sure about the clean up just yet but this you could certainly get used to.

At length, Wriothesley finally goes slack under you with a rumbling sigh and his arms loosen enough for you to push yourself up to look at him again. He looks like he’s still recovering, blue eyes distant and almost dreamy, and yet he still manages to give you one of those lazy, secretive little smiles.

“I think you’re probably going to regret that.”

“Regret what?”

“Giving me permission to cum inside you as much as I want.” Sighing, he carefully gathers you up again and rolls you over onto your side. You give a soft squeak when his softening cock slips free at the motion, but he’s snuggling up close to you before you can complain about needing to get a rag. In fact, you promptly forget all about it as he half curls his much bigger body around yours and gets comfortable, settling his face inches from yours on the sheets. “Putting my poor sense of humor aside … thank you, sweet girl. You’re much too kind to me and so much more than I could have ever hoped myself worthy of.”

You can’t help but laugh as you bring your hand up to brush some of the hair back off his sweat dampened forehead. He looked surprisingly handsome like that, you were a bit surprised to find. Almost dashing. “Don’t say that … especially when I was just thinking the same thing of you. I know it’s been a rocky road but … but I really am glad I was able to meet you in this life, Wriothesley.”

“I am too.” He murmurs, leaning in to press his mouth to yours in a slow, savory kiss. You practically melt into him at the stilted press and pull of his mouth, carding your hand back through his hair, and you can’t help but softly whine when he retreats a moment later. “By the way, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you.”

Your brows knit in confusion. “What kind of surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” He chuckles, brushing another kiss over your lips. “We can go pick it up together tomorrow, if you’d like. I made the arrangements right after the fundraiser, but with everything going on I just didn’t get the chance to tell you.”

There was no denying that you were a bit suspicious of it, but you find yourself smiling anyway. “Alright … do I at least get a hint?”

“Not even a little one.”

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

One week later …

“Oh my goodness, isn’t he just the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” Furina squeals and titters, cooing over the dozing bundle in your arms with so much enthusiasm that a few of the cafe staff members actually stop to glance over. You didn’t really mind it though. You’d had much the same reaction the first time you laid eyes on him, and sometimes you still did. It was exceedingly hard not to, if you were being honest.

Even now when you turn your attention down to look at the furry little face blearily staring back at you, almost too tired to keep his eyes open, you feel a strangely intense flood of emotions rush through your chest. You aren’t quite sure what it is, exactly, but you know it’s something not unlike love. Tumultuous but calming at the same time. Peaceful, and yet frighteningly daunting.

You think, idly, this might be how parents feel about their children. A love unconditional and so, so overwhelming it almost brings you to tears at least once a day. If you hadn’t been navigating this unexpected journey with Wriothesley right at your side you were certain you would have been a right and proper mess.

“He’s a very good boy.” You tell her in full confidence. Even barring the occasional accident or behavioral correction, he’d been nothing but a sweet angel since you’d brought him home. “I was a bit worried he’d like Wriothesley more than me since he’s so … you know. Big and in charge of everything, but he actually sticks to me like glue. I can’t even use the bathroom without him sitting outside the door crying.”

Furina looks like she just might start crying too. “That is so stinking cute! Oh, I really am jealous! What sort of dog is he?”

You turn a little sheepish at that. “A mastiff.”

Her eyes go so big and wide you’re a bit worried they’re going to pop right out of her head and roll across the table.

“But that’s so — large! Aren’t you worried about him … I don’t know, pushing you around when he’s older?”

Shaking your head, you reach down to fiddle with an oversized black paw. The puppy just lets you do it without even a huff of protest, his arm perfectly boneless and pliable under your fingers. “Wriothesley said these guys are big, giant babies but very protective. He told me if he ever wasn’t around and someone tried to mess with me, this little guy here would rip them apart … and I’m not so sure he was joking about that.”

Furina shoots a cautious look at the lounging dog, but quickly recovers her usual bluster. “Well, I am very happy for the two of you and I will be sending you a gift basket in the coming days to celebrate this adorable addition to your family!”

You falter at that, turning a wide eyed look on her. “Is that really necessary, Lady Furina? I don’t want to put you out or anything …”

“Of course it is! Things like this deserve to be celebrated, don’t you think?” Reaching over, she softly tickles the pup’s exposed belly and he gives his leg a lazy kick in response, much to her giggling delight. “Ohh, I really can’t help but feel a bit envious though. I wonder how mad Neuvillette would be if I suddenly brought home a puppy …”

Spotting your chance, you eagerly jump on it. “Speaking of, Lady Furina, I meant to ask you about that.”

She jerks her attention up at you, cheeks coloring a charming shade of pink. “Wh — ask me about what, dear peach? S - surely you don’t suspect me of anything?”

If you didn’t already, you certainly would have now.

Grinning, you secretively bend your head close to hers. The puppy Wriothesley got for you grumbles faintly between the two of you, unaccustomed to not being the center of attention now, but you and the Hydro Archon are too busy whispering amongst yourselves to give in to his huffy demands right that moment. Soon, you and Furina are laughing together, squealing softly over something one or the other has said. It was nice, and it was comfortable. Warm in the mid afternoon sun sitting out on the cafe patio with her.

And in the light, the ring Wriothesley put on your finger glitters blindingly for all to see.

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

The End

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #self insert bullshit

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idwt-money · 5 months

Text

Sleepless Nights

MDNI 18+

1.5k words, Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

CW: unprotected sex, oral sex (fem rec), slight spit play(??), tiny bit of aggression

“Fuck, Noah..” whispers were almost silent in the room. Words that wouldn’t be remembered in the morning.

It was ungodly hours in the morning and it was the first night Noah was back from tour. He would usually be dead asleep, snoring and mumbling in his sleep by now but you made this tour…especially excruciating.

You would send him pictures of yourself in new lingerie while he was away, forcing him to jerk off in a tiny tour bus bathroom. Having to be dead silent due to the, quite literal, paper-thin walls of said tour bus.

You hadn’t been able to help but giggle to yourself when this happened. He would send you texts back almost immediately. Something along the lines of “I’m going to fuck you until your head is spinning.”

You had never held him to his words as he was usually a shy boy. Although this behavior was unusual, you didn't think much of it. You figured he had gained confidence over the phone.

Once he had actually gotten home, he almost immediately pinned you against the wall of your shared home and took you like a rabid animal.

It took you by surprise, really. Usually you were the one to initiate, but this was nothing you were complaining about.

And here you are now, ass up and Noah having no mercy on your poor body.

“What baby? Didn’t think I meant what I said in those texts did you?” His words were sparse between grunts and huffs from all the pleasure his touched starved cock was receiving in the moment.

He knew you couldn’t respond, not only because your sentence would just be a string of moans and pathetic whimpers, but also due to the fact he had a fist full of your hair, pushing your face into the duvet.

God, you wished and hoped that he would turn you over so you could see how devilishly sinful he looked.

That thought lasted maybe 30 seconds when Noah slapped your ass, with much force, bringing you close to your first orgasm of the night.

You didn’t have to say anything, Noah knew your body better than you did. Your legs began to shake, your pussy tightened around him and your muffled cries and pleas were becoming louder by the second.

“Give it to me. I want it now.”

With Noah’s permission you let your orgasm rip through you like lightning bolts. It made your vision go blurry before you shut your eyes.

It dozed through you before coming to an end. You had never gone for so long without an orgasm caused by your lover.

You both were highschool sweethearts and up until the tour, you hadn’t gone even an entire 2 weeks without seeing each other, let alone fuck.

With no words shared, Noah moved you onto your back and thank god he did. He looked just as you imagined. His hair was messy and falling in his face due to the utterly unforgiving thrusts he had been fucking into you.

“There’s my pretty girl. So so good for giving yourself to me.” His voice was ridden with a tone somewhere between lust and love. He had slowed his thrusts, just long enough to give you a kiss to your lips. It was messy and unfathomably pussy throbbing. Your tongues were swirling around each other as if they were dancing to an unheard beat. Saliva was starting to pool down your chin but when he pulled away, you couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away. Noah grabbed your legs, pulled you closer and went at an unrelenting pace. You knew he was close but not this close. 3 or 4 thrusts later he was letting curse words leave his lips and he spilled his load onto your stomach.

His chest heaved and gasped for air as he milked his cock for the remains of his orgasm. The words he was growling out seemed to have come somewhere deep within his diaphragm. Almost like he was on stage screaming for thousands of people. Neither of you cared about how loud you were being or if any of the neighbors had heard you. In this very moment, it was just you two.

You had made eye contact before watching him sink to his knees, off of the bed and dive into your pussy like it was a divine meal meant for the gods. The wet noises coming from Noah’s mouth immediately sent your two hands into his hair. No matter how nasty you two fucked, he always treated your pussy like his last meal on earth, being sure to treasure every lick, slurp and gulp.

“Oh fuck, Noah” When he wrapped your lips around your already sensitive clit, it caused your body to jolt. Your thighs clenched around his head and your fingers to pull at his hair.

Grunts escaped his mouth, his now being muffled due to the position you had him trapped in. In which only caused you more pleasure. The vibrations of his now low moans made your mind foggy. You started to take it into your own hands and grind against his tongue.

Noah seemingly didn’t like the idea of you taking charge and left a hefty slap to your thigh.

“We’re doing this at the pace I want. I waited far too fuckin’ long to taste you. I am in charge. Understand?” His voice was low and husky, causing a rush of wetness straight to your pussy. You nodded, thinking it would give him satisfaction of an answer. It didn’t.

“Use your fucking words y/n” He had a look of the slightest irritation written on it.

“Yes sir.” Your words were quiet but it did the job as he went back down, taking long, thoughtful strokes to your clit. Your mouth fell open and your eyes collapsed closed, taking in nothing the warm, wet feeling of his devilish tongue.

Noah could genuinely go on forever between your legs, he, a couple times, had gone until you were crying and his jaw was sore. It was almost like he enjoyed watching you squirm and shake due to his tongue rather than actually fucking you.

Your moans had now gone high pitched, and the once slow, languid licks of his tongue were now fast and on the borderline of being dangerous.

“Baby- oh fuck! Please keep going. I’m so so so close!” You once again rested your hands in his hair as a poor excuse to try and ground yourself.

Noah didn’t say a word, instead giving you silent praise by swirling his tongue around your clit.

Another orgasm crashed into you and it was almost debilitating.

Your eyes had rolled to the back of your head, Noah brought you in closer with a grasp on your hips and you were spent.

He pulled away, licking his lips and slightly cleaning the mess your cunt had made dripping down his chin.

“You taste like heaven itself. Holy shit.” He said in disbelief.

He climbed atop of you and shared a chaste kiss with you, venturing his way down your neck. He left small bites and small hickies here and there, in some sort of proof you were his and no one else could ever have you in the way he does.

Despite what Noah had planned in his own world, you went against it and forced him to lay down, now hovering over his cock.as you sunk down onto him, his nails sunk into your hips.

You softly grinded down onto him, throwing your head back and biting your lip as an attempt to stop yourself from smiling too big.

Once you got comfortable on top of him, you situated your legs and started to bounce up and down on his cock. Noah was now being more vocal with curses, groans, huffs, grunts. Whatever his body could do to help the overpowering sensation of pleasure.

This time, you weren’t worried about achieving your own orgasm but wanted to pull one more out of Noah before you both were too tired.

“Come on handsome. I know you got it in you, give it to me.”

Noah had an undeniable thing for praise and encouragement in these situations, contrary to popular belief.

“Mhm, just like that, just like that. Shit!” His voice was worn out now, giving it more of a soft moan rather than his previous growls.

Within seconds he was unfolding in front of your eyes, his breathing became shallow and his eyes were pinched closed, focusing on getting him to topple over the edge of pure bliss. As his mouth fell open, he released everything into you. As he came, his grip on your hips dug deeper and you wouldn’t have been surprised if you had bruises the next day.

As soon as he was done with his orgasm, you toppled over onto his chest, even though you were dirtied with his previous orgasm. He softly rubbed your back as he whispered soft words of adoration to you.

Soon enough helped you clean off what mess he made in your rendezvous earlier. Once you were in bed, you made a small conversation consisting of how much you missed him while he was away from you.

#bad omens cult #bad omens #noah sebastian #noahsebastian #badomens #bad omens band #badomenscult #nick folio #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo

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poisonlove · 9 months

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i hate you!¹

I still hate you… but less.

4:35 PM

It was only 4:35 PM when the principal's verdict had hit us like a bolt from the blue. After the heated argument with the unbearable Jenna Ortega, we were forced to stay at school for an extra two hours. But the worst part? It wasn't just for one day; it was for an entire week.

"I want to die," I sighed. My elbow rested on the desk, my head propped up by my hand as I watched the clock tick away the time.

Our Science teacher shot us a stern look. "Absolute silence, please. I'll be back at the end of detention," he warned, making it clear that any infractions would lead to further penalties. "If you attempt to escape, the detention will be extended by a week, and if you argue, another hour... understood?"

"Mmm-hmm," I muttered with boredom, rolling my eyes in annoyance.

"Miss Ortega, did you understand?" the teacher turned his attention to the source of my frustration.

Jenna was sitting three desks away, her back against the wall, and from my vantage point, I could only see her profile. Ortega had her legs up on the table and earphones in her ears. It was as if she had erected an invisible wall between us, a clear sign of our tension.

"Ortega!" the teacher scolded with annoyance.

Jenna removed her earphones. "Yes, I understood," she replied through gritted teeth, clearly fed up.

"And remove your feet from the table," the teacher added with exasperation.

Jenna complied, and the teacher gave us one final glance before leaving the room.

I decided to pass the time by pulling out my notebook from my backpack, along with a pencil, and started drawing whatever came to mind. The punishment felt endless, and I needed something to distract myself.

As I drew, I scrutinized Jenna's profile more closely. She was clearly ignoring me, with earphones in her ears and a body posture that sent a clear message: she didn't want to talk at all.

My attention focused on her face, noting her upturned nose, heart-shaped lips, and slightly hollowed cheeks. But what struck me the most were her eyes. They were a deep brown, with long lashes framing them perfectly. They were physically flawless, and they captured the attention of anyone who gazed upon them.

My pencil began moving on the paper almost instinctively, creating lines and shadows that took shape. The graphite flowed on the page, delineating every detail of her brown eyes. Each individual eyelash seemed to come to life, capturing the imaginary light reflecting in her real eyes. It was as if I was trying to capture not only the physical appearance of her eyes but also the essence of what they might hide behind that distant expression.

I stuck out my tongue with a slight smile as I continued to draw, this time focusing on Jenna's eyebrows. She raised an eyebrow with confusion and shot me a glare, clearly feeling my gaze on her.

I increased the pressure on the pencil, creating heavy and precise lines as I outlined the curves of Jenna's eyebrows.

"What a pain," Jenna muttered and then stretched, yawning slightly.

In that motion, she lifted her hoodie slightly, revealing her perfectly flat stomach. I felt a bit embarrassed and quickly averted my gaze, my cheeks flushed, continuing to draw while only looking at my notebook. I had gotten the sketch I wanted, and now I wanted to fully concentrate on my work, trying to ignore the distractions around me. The tension between us was still palpable, but at least my drawing was taking shape as I desired.

This bitch has some nice facial features, despite being so insufferable I thought with a wry smile.

Her beauty was undeniable, even though her attitude was anything but amiable. It was a contradictory thought, but at least it helped me focus on my work and set aside the tensions.

"I must say I was wrong; you don't draw that badly," a voice murmured beside me.

"What do you want, Ortega?" I asked with a sigh, not in the mood for an argument.

Jenna had placed her hands on my desk, her head close to mine as she closely examined the contents of my notebook. Her breath was very close to my ear, her hair gracefully falling over her shoulders.

"Nothing from you, just the least I can do is see how you draw, considering that my eyes are on that notebook," she confessed in a bored tone.

The desire to draw faded.

Jenna, with a quick movement, sat in the desk next to mine. "Not drawing anymore?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"No, I feel a terrible presence by my side... very annoying, I must say," I muttered with faux irony.

Jenna burst into laughter.

"I don't understand why you've become so unbearable, you know?" I asked sincerely. "I remember that we were very close friends as children," I mumbled distractedly, smiling at the memory.

Flashback:

I was a little child using colored pencils, trying my best to color a car printed on a piece of paper.

"Wow, you're really amazing!" a voice came from my right, and I smiled when I saw a girl looking at my drawing.

That girl was completely covered in marker stains and seemed quite clumsy. "Can you teach me?" she asked with bright eyes. "Of course," I muttered absentmindedly, and the girl sat down next to me.

"I'm Jenna," the girl said with a big smile. "Y/N," I returned the smile. "I'm sure you and I will become great friends," she confessed, clumsily coloring the sheet.

"The best!" she added quickly, sticking out her tongue and running it over her lower lip.

"We're friends because I'm helping you draw?" I asked, intrigued and a bit confused.

She tilted her head to the side, looking at me curiously. "Isn't that what friends do?" she innocently asked.

End of the flashback.

The reminiscence of those happy moments with Jenna filled me with warmth, but at the same time, it made me feel the sadness of time passed and friendships lost. It was a missing puzzle piece that I had forgotten, and now I held it in my hands, hoping it could help resolve the current situation between us.

Jenna's fingers snapped in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Everything okay, weirdo?" she asked with a small smile.

"Yeah, pain in the neck," I muttered absentmindedly.

"Ugh... what can I say? Those were good times," she smiled, eliciting a faint smile from me.

"Do you remember the times we used to play Romeo and Juliet?" Jenna asked with a smile on her lips.

I chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? You dressed me up as a prince and said we had to get married," I confessed, making Jenna blush.

"And that time I broke my arm falling from the tree?" she asked, amused.

"I'm sorry about that, it's my fault the ball ended up there," I admitted, remembering the moment when Jenna had tried to catch the ball thrown too high, ending up falling and breaking her arm.

"We were friends... for how long? 7 years?" I asked uncertainly.

"7 years and 4 months," Jenna murmured, surprising me.

"Can you explain why you've become like this?" I asked curiously.

Her smile faded. She crossed her arms around herself, almost embarrassed. "Do you really not remember?" she asked in a whisper.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"No," I honestly replied.

"And if I tell you... 'monkey arms'?" she asked, making a grimace.

I widened my eyes in realization.

I couldn't believe it... Jenna had become so unbearable because of a comment I made when we were 12 years old. We were in the gym, ready for our physical education class.

"Hey, Jen," I called my best friend.

Jenna turned toward my direction, looking at me with a smile on her face and bright eyes.

"Tell me," she asked, adjusting her short-sleeved shirt.

"Have you heard the new song 'Dance Monkey'?" I asked, barely holding back my laughter.

"Yes?" she asked unsurely.

"With those arms, it's definitely your song," I exclaimed, making the girls in the locker room burst into laughter.

I was clearly joking. But Jenna looked at me with flushed cheeks and teary eyes, grabbed her hoodie, and rushed out of the locker room. That moment of light teasing had a much deeper impact than I could have ever imagined.

"Oh, crap," I looked at Jenna with wide eyes, incredulous.

"You made my life impossible because of a comment from when we were kids?" I asked, unable to believe it.

Jenna shrugged without thinking, looking at me with narrowed eyes. "Because of you, I'm still afraid to wear short sleeves," she confessed.

I analyzed her outfit again: an oversized hoodie that completely covered her arms.

"Damn... Jen, I was just joking! I didn't mean to cause all this drama," I muttered absentmindedly, taking her hand to uncover her arm.

"What are you doing?" she asked in panic.

"Showing that you look amazing regardless," I muttered absentmindedly, trying to address her insecurities.

Jenna blushed, and she seemed almost on the verge of a panic attack. "See?" I asked with a nervous smile.

I ran my fingers along her arm, feeling like a complete idiot for making this girl feel bad for years. I had never thought that such a joke could ruin a friendship.

Jenna broke free from my grasp and got up from the desk, seeing that the science teacher had returned to the classroom, ending our punishment.

"See you tomorrow, loser," Jenna muttered, a small smile on her lips.

In the end, now I knew why Jenna detested me so much. In the end, the responsible, clueless idiot was just me.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #miércoles addams #wednesday x you #bully #hate this #enemy to lovers

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starblightbindery · 3 months

Text

FanFic Pipe Book Press

In 2022, I prototyped an affordable nipping press using black steel pipe fittings. The challenge: To make something under $100, compact, portable, and easy to make without electric tools.

I'm sharing the supply list here (under the cut) with updated thoughts and notes.

Please note that when I've linked to Amazon in this post, I'm using an affiliate link.

Basic Materials

QTY 1 - Press Screw 2 - ½ pipe Mini Flanges 2 - ½ pipe 90° elbow fittings 2 - ½ pipe 4in nipples 2 - ½ pipe 6in nipples 2 - 1x½ pipe hex bushing reducer 1 - 1x1 pipe cross tee 1 - Large hardwood board at least 16"x6" 1 - Smaller hardwood board ~ 9-10" across and at least 6" wide 8 - #8x¾ flat head wood screws

Press Screw The press screw is the crank/long screw in the middle of the nipping press. As of this writing, the most affordable press screws are the one by Pony Jorgenson or the one by ShopFox. For just a little bit more, McMaster Carr sells a beautiful stainless steel hole mount screw clamp from Taiwan.

½ pipe parts These form the bones of this book press. Pipe fittings are designed to be resistant to water pressure and are easy to assemble. You can find some at your local hardware store (cheaper) or order on Amazon. You have the option to use basic black carbon steel pipe or go fancier by using stainless steel. This will likely run you between $40-$65.

Wood & Screws You'll want a hardwood (like Oak, Birch, Walnut, etc.) not a softwood (pine or basswood) for this project to prevent warping. A strong plywood such as baltic birch may work as well. Most hardware stores will cut wood to size for you. The screws are for attaching the pipe to the wood--but, depending on how you want to engineer the press, you could also use bolts.

Additional Supplies

Sandpaper in various grades

Sealant for the pipes (especially if you use pipe that sheds carbon, so you don't stain your books. I used clear coat, you can look into shellac and other finishes that work for you.)

Wood Finish (I used tung oil, you have so many options)

Screwdriver, Hand Drill, or Electric drill

Mallet (if you want to pound the lead screw into the cross pipe

Epoxy to glue the lead screw into the cross, or to affix the base of the screw to the wood.

Optional Upgrades

Use a hole saw to drill through the wood and a forstner bit the size of the flange to run the flange through the wood from the bottom. That way, pressure isn't put on the wood screws and the press will last longer.

Use Rub N' Buff to decorate the press

Use longer nipples, such as 8" or 10" nipples, instead of the 6" to get more daylight.

This press is sized for fanfic binders, but if you want a bigger one you can size up the pipes.

If you can afford thicker wood, especially for the base, you may want to opt for 8/4 wood instead of 4/4 wood.

Happy crafting! Let me know how things go, and if you end up making one, I'd love to see a picture.

#fanbinding #bookbinding #ficbinding #bookbinding equipment #nipping press #book press #pipe furniture

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20dollarlolita · 9 months

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(It's been entirely too long since we've started a tutorial with a very blurry picture, which is a 20dollarlolita tradition. Am I about to fall over and only staying upright because of a death grip on this trim? Stay tuned to find out)

Let's make a skirt.

There's a lot of lolita fashion that doesn't fit most people. It's me. I'm most people. I'm going to wear it anyway, so I'm going to resize that to fit me.

The hardest part of resizing a lolita skirt (or skirt part of a dress) is that you almost never can get the fabric that the skirt was made out of. Lolita prints are usually pretty limited run. While some dresses will let you redistribute the fabric to have a slightly less full skirt, that's usually a major reconstruction that ends up drifting a bit away from the lolita shape.

A ruffled bustle bustle, however, is pretty common. Bustles like this are pretty common in lolita fashion and add an additional detail. In addition, you can make the waist of the skirt several inches bigger without a problem, and without compromising skirt fullness. If you ever want to undo the alteration, seaming the skirt back up is not very difficult. It's not a fully seamlessly reversible alteration, but there's far worse things you could do to the garment (ask me about my AP dress with mesh pits).

The problem is that bustles like this take quite a bit of energy and fabric, especially if you want to have details like lace trim. It's one of the more time-consuming alterations to do.

Or you can make one bustle/ruffle underskirt, one time, and wear it with all your skirt and dress modifications. You can splurge and get some nice trim and get some nice fabric, because you only need to buy it once. You can also wear it as a standalone skirt. (Just remember to never, ever steam it before taking pictures. You wouldn't want to look competent)

I put off making one of these for a very long time, because I'd made the process much more complicated in my head than it turned out needing to be. Once I was building this and realized I needed to simplify the fuck down, this became a really easy project.

Materials: I decided to make the ruffles on my skirt out of eyelet lawn, which is a cotton fabric that has an all-over embroidery. I got this for about $10 a yard on ebay. I don't have a very accurate judgement of how much I used on the skirt. I bought 4 yards and used probably 3.5, but I also wasted a bunch of fabric on an extra tier that I had to chop off. I wanted a fabric with more detail than broadcloth, but that wasn't exclusively going to work with OTT styling.

I got 30 yards of 1/2" Venise lace off cheeptrims.com for $9. I really recommend putting lace on your ruffles if you can. It really adds to the detail level, and you only need to buy it once. You already have to hem all of this so you might as well hem it with lace.

You will also want some fabric for the slip layer (for want of a better term) to attach the ruffles to. My ruffles were a little bit sheer, so I wanted an opaque base fabric for modesty. Depending on the look you're going for, you can also use this layer to add some subtle detailing or changes to the finished look. If you're only wearing it with over-the-top looks, using a base fabric with shine or glitter can stop your ultrabustle from looking too plain. If you're wanting your ruffles to lay flatter, getting a soft fabric with a lot of drape will make the ruffles droopier. I just used some weird cotton plainweave that I got at Green Store for 75% off due to a bolt-long defect.

I used 1" elastic in the waistband here, because this skirt can get a little bit heavy, and then you often have another skirt on top of it adding to the weight.

The other thing that I used that made this much easier was a ruffling attachment for my serger. You don't need to use a serger, but a ruffling or gathering attachment that allows you to ruffle a flat strip of fabric and sew it onto another piece of (not to-be-ruffled) fabric will speed things up considerably. I know a lot of people buy a ruffler or a gathering foot when they start sewing lolita, and then are disappointed when they don't use it very much. There's a very limited number of lolita applications for these attachments, and I'm happy to tell you that this is one of them. If you don't have one, you don't need to go buy one. You can just do the two-step process of gathering the fabric and then sewing it on. But if you wanted an excuse to go buy one, well, you have one.

The Plan:

So I'd previously made a lot of math and calculations for how each tier was going to gather into the previous one, and then realized during the build phase that actually was way too complicated.

What we need is a rectangle with ruffles on it gathered into a waistband. Yes, a rectangle. I know, I was stunned too, but the final result worked the best.

I wanted the tops of the ruffles to be hidden in seams. If you just sew ruffled strips onto a single piece of fabric, it's very difficult to hide all the raw edges and to make sure you're not spreading loose threads all over the place. We're going to make ruffled strips, and sew them to each other. This covers up the raw edges very nicely.

This also will allow you to slightly gather the second and top tiers to each other, if you want to make this skirt in an a-line instead of a bell/cupcake shape.

The Math:

If you know what skirts you're planning on wearing your ultrabustle with, it can help to measure them and get a good guideline.

Generally, you want your ultrabustle to be a number somewhere within these guidelines.

~~Close to the same length of the skirt you're wearing it with or ~~4"ish longer than the skirt you're wearing it with. (This depends on if you want the bottom ruffle to stick out. If you're Tallita and all the skirts and dresses you're resizing are also too short, you might want this to double as a ruffled underskirt) and ~~An acceptable length to wear as a skirt all on its own.

My first run at this ultrabustle was WAY too long, and after chopping off the entire top tier, it ended up being either 1" shorter or 1" longer than the skirts I'm planning on wearing it with, which is a great number for me.

As for the total fullness of the skirt, you have to remember that the ruffles will add visual volume to the skirt. This means that you don't actually need the hemline of your skirt to be super full. All that matters is that your petticoat can comfortably squeeze in there. For this, I measured the hemline of the smallest dress that I had that still fit my petticoat, and used that. It turned out to be about 80" around.

So, what sizes do we cut this at? It's math time.

Here's a worksheet if you want. You're going to need to know how long you want the finished skirt, how wide you want the hem of the slip (not the ruffle) of the skirt, how many ruffle layers you want, and your waist measurement.

The slip needs to be shorter than the ruffles, so it doesn't show. So total slip length is your skirt length minus 2.5". Divide that by the number of ruffle layers that you have, and you'll have how long to cut each of those. This is slip tier short side.

Each ruffle layer needs to be longer than each slip layer, so that the slip doesn't show. You want each ruffle to overlap the previous one. So, take your slip tier short side and add 2-3" (or more, if you want). This is your ruffle short side.

Your finished slip diameter is your slip tier long side. That one's easy.

If you're a math and planning person, you can determine your ruffle long side measurement. You'll want to take a piece of your fabric, cut to the ruffle short side measurement and also about 45+ inches wide, and a piece of your slip fabric. Run them both through your gathering attachment so that your ruffle fabric is sewn onto your slip fabric. If you like how that looks, you can then measure the finished length of the ruffled fabric and use that to calculate how much fabric you'll need for the ruffles. There's four places where people mess this up. First of all, if you're using your gathering attachment to sew and gather at the same time (which is the point of that attachment), you want to do all your test runs gathering it onto a fabric. The amount of fabric that goes into a machine ruffle changes depending on if it's onto fabric or just gathering. Second, you want to use your finished fabric, at your finished ruffle length. Different fabrics will ruffle different amounts, and different ruffle widths will look different even at the same gathering amount. Third mistake people make is to not gather a long enough strip. The longer a strip you gather, the more accurately you can measure how much fabric is actually going into your ruffle. And the fourth is to take that measure as an accurate one, and not plan for needing extra fabric. The upside of the gathering attachment is that it will save you so much time. The downside is that you can't be as accurate with knowing how much fabric you'll use. Remember, you can always turn the leftovers into a matching accessory. Even if you're going to go yolo like I did and not do the math about how many ruffles you need, you will still want to run a check that you like how your ruffling attachment looks. You don't need to measure super accurately, but try to get a feel for how much fabric is going into each ruffle. For example, if your ruffler takes a strip and makes it 1/3 it's flat size, then you'll need more fabric than if your ruffler makes it 1/2 it's flat size. If you're really on a budget, you can just cut your ruffles at 2.5x your slip long dimension and precisely gather by hand. My time's worth something to me and so it wasn't worth it to do that just to save a yard of $10 fabric.

The last part is just to check that your ruffle long dimension (or it's rough approximation) is still at least 2.75x your waist measure (3.25 is better). If you don't have that, your skirt likely won't look full enough for a lolita silhouette. If that's the case, just add to your skirt dimension until it is.

Actually making it:

Before you forget, cut out a piece for your waistband. You can decide if this looks better in your ruffle fabric or your slip fabric (I used slip). This piece should be 3ish" longer than the distance around the fullest part of your booty. You need this to be longer than your booty distance so that you can get it on your body. If you're using 1" elastic, you want this piece to be a minimum of 3" wide.

I've found that the easiest way to do this is to start out by making the whole skirt as a single, very long strip. So, I take my slip tiers and cut them all out, and sew them into a long strip.

On my specific fabric, I decided that I wanted the pattern on the eyelet to go lengthwise. So, instead of cutting the fabric across the grain (short side, selvedge to selvedge) like I normally would, I cut down the 4 yard length of the fabric. This meant a lot less seaming. Since I didn't really know how much fabric I was going to use (you know that test I described to check how much fabric you're going to use? Yeah, guess who didn't do that), I just cut them one 4-yard strip at a time. I'd ruffle one all the way, stop, and cut the next one. This did actually save me quite a bit of fabric versus cutting them all at once. I had to go back and sew the sides of the ruffle together once the skirt was done. It was a small price to pay for the convenience I experienced.

I knew what size I wanted the finished ruffle length to be, but I cut my ruffles about 2.5" longer than that. I wanted a little bit of wiggle room once the skirt was done, so that I could do the length adjustment once the whole skirt was assembled.

And then, it's just a matter of letting the ruffler do its work. My serger ruffler works by you putting the item to-be-ruffled on the bottom, and the item to attach the ruffle to on the top, and then just hitting go. Some other rufflers work by putting the to-be-ruffled at the top, so you can see it as you go. Like all sewing machine attachments, if you're not sure, just go on youtube and search "HOW SINGER GATHERING FOOT DO THING NOT LOOK LIKE SHIT?" and someone's probably made a video of it.

So, once you've run all your ruffle through your machine, you should have a nice single strip of slip fabric with a ruffle on top of it. Now, some gathering attachments don't actually sew super strong seams, because you have to adjust tension or stitch length pretty severely to get it to ruffle like you want. The other advantage of putting the ruffles in a seam instead of just topstitching them onto a piece of fabric is that it doesn't matter how strong your ruffle attachment is, as long as it's strong enough to hold until you can put the ruffle in the seam. The seam provides the strength.

Once you have your single long ruffle, cut off a section that's the diameter of your bottom tier.

Now you just need to sew them together (and finish your inside edges). I like to start at the bottom tier and go up.

For each tier, you're sewing the bottom of the slip layer to the top (ruffle and slip) of the tier below. Just pull the ruffle of the higher tier out of the way, put right sides together, and sew.

If you aren't using a serger, you can zigzag over your edges and then trim them down, use an overcasting stitch from your sewing machine, or topstitch some seam binding over the seams. The extra line of stitching on the slip layers in front won't be visible. One of the other nice things about building this in the way we have is that, when you finish the edges of your inside seams, you're putting three layers together and finishing it as one. This is actually a lot less then 1/3 of the work of finishing them separately, because you'd have to finish the ruffle as a flat piece, which would take way more time. Have I convinced you on the greatness of this technique yet?

Continue cutting pieces off your ruffle layer and stacking them until you have as many layers as you decided you were going to have.

Once you have your layers all stacked up on each other, it's time to sew the skirt back seam. I find that it looks best to hold the ruffles out of the way, sew the slip together, and then go back and sew all the ruffle pieces. Basically now is a good time to just check for any ugly spots and to touch them up.

There's like 50 ways to attach a waistband to a skirt. For this one I used this method (what a blast from the 20dollarlolita past we have there. Also please note that the cost of ruffler feet seems to have gone up from $15 to $60-$100 in the past 10 years and despite working in a sewing machine store, I'm not totally sure why).

Once you've got the whole skirt assembled, it's time for the finishing.

The first thing that I did was put it on and try to judge how short I wanted my top ruffle. I'd cut all my ruffles extra long in the short dimension, so that I could shorten them when they were on the skirt. I picked a length that worked, marked it out, and chopped at that point. I then did this for the other two layers. I found that I wanted my bottom ruffle to be a little bit longer than my top ones, and cutting it long allowed me to make that choice.

I then started just zigagging on my lace. If you don't have a serger, you can use the lace as a hem finish, which also saves you an additional step. The lace really added a lot to this, and since I only need to make this once to wear with a lot of different garments, it was an economical use of nice lace.

I started putting the lace on the top layer first. This is because, if I ran out of lace, having a different (wider) lace on the bottom layer wouldn't look strange. As previously mentioned, I did zero measuring of how long my ruffles are, and had no idea if 27 yards would be enough lace. Don't be like me. Do some tests. Or be like me and choose the life of treachery. Anyway, stick lace on this thing, please. You worked hard and your skirts deserve it.

The only other thing that I did was to cut the slip layer down by about 3" on the very bottom. I did this because I made a mistake, but I like how it looks.

You can take this system of ataching ruffles in rectangles or even a trapezoid and stick it in the back of a skirt (or skirt on a dress). I did that here because I knew that I wanted a pink bustle, not a white one.

I'll do a tutorial for the actual skirt resizing sometime after I actually resize a skirt with this. Here, all I did was slice the back, hem those edges, and then button on some waist ties from another dress. This let me easily add several inches to the back of this skirt, without needing to re-distribute pleats, and without sacrificing the fullness of the shape.

This will all sit a little bit better once I've pressed the skirt, as well. Steaming the top layer of this while the garment is on me/a dress form/a hanger will decrease the poof in the top layer a little bit, and honestly, we could benefit from that in this case.

Anyway, if you have this, you have a very fast way to enlarge existing garments.

So, while this has thankfully very much decreased in the past years, there's still some people with weird opinions on MoDiFyInG bUrAnDo, so let's have a talk. Lolita clothing is not community owned. If someone who was never going to sell a dress to you modifies it, that doesn't take it away from you. This is a mentality that we tend to have in lolita more than other fashion just because of our high resell scene, but it wasn't ever going to be your dress and so you don't need to have an opinion about what happens to a thing you were never going to personally own. Things have value more than money, and value is often changed rather than destroyed. AP's Halloween Treats OP has no value to me when sold for $500 on Lacemarket. I don't spend that much money on lolita, ever. But a questionably-altered AP's Halloween Treats OP that I can un-alter has value to me if the price is good. But a questionably-altered AP's Halloween Treats OP has very little value to someone who likes the price, but can't undo the alterations. When someone resizes a dress or skirt, true, sometimes the people who are the size it was originally made can't wear it anymore. You've decreased the value to them, but you've made it more valuable to people who are the size that you've made the garment become. This skirt had no value to me when it's waist measure is 7.5" too small, but now I can wear it, so it has functional value to me. A lot of people who say that modifying the dress ruins it are either ignoring that also the stress of putting a dress not sized large enough for your body can damage it and not look as great while doing so, or else they have a much worse take. People who say that modifying clothes ruins the garment, but also say that wearing a garment that's too small ruins the garment, what they're actually saying is that wearing that garment is a privilege that should not be extended to larger sized people, and if they say that then they can just, you know, go fuck themselves. We don't need that in the community. Everyone deserves to wear lolita, and some people have to work harder to achieve it, and that's not fair, but everyone deserves it.

So yeah, kiddos! Build a skirt! Go cut up some clothes! Wear the skirts you've always wanted to wear! You can do anything!

And to answer the question we opened this with, yes, I was absolutely falling over.

#handmade lolita #20dollarlolita #lolita fashion #resizing clothes #making clothes bigger #tutorial #skirt tutorial #lolita skirt tutorial #sewing tutorial #bustle underskirt #utilibustle #ultrabustle #the one bustle to rule them all #one bustle to find them

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morgana-larkin · 1 month

Note

First off I LOVEEEE YOUR WRITING

Second off I have an angst request! I don’t know the specifics but it can be based off of one step forward and two steps back by Olivia Rodrigo!! And like Mel is not appreciative of the reader until the reader leaves her to focus on her mental!!

Thank you for loving my writing! ❤️ So I’ll be honest and I got a writer’s block while writing this. I got inspiration randomly but it came and went. I did listen to the song a bit on repeat along with her songs ‘good 4 u’ and ‘get him back’ , hope it’s not terrible. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’m almost done the next chapter of ‘Worth It’. I am busy over the weekend so I won’t get a lot of writing done but I’ll try and get at least the next chapter out.

Doubt

Warnings: bit of toxic Mel at the beginning, angst, fluff, dancing

Words: 5k

You called Melissa on the phone, knowing she should be home by now from work. She picks up the phone on the second ring.

“Hey y/n.”

“Hi Melissa, how was work?”

“It was fine.” Is all she said, she never bothers to ask it back but you always tell her anyway.

“Alright, I had a pretty ok day.”

“Did you call to rub it in my face that you had a better day?” She says and you don’t know where that came from but you don’t point it out.

“No, just called to talk to you. Want me to come over to help cheer you up?”

“Sure.” Melissa says and you hang up after telling her that you’re on your way.

You arrive and knock on the door. Melissa answers it and lets you in right away. She pushes you up against the door and makes out with you for a few minutes. After she strips you both of your clothing when you reach her bed. She pounds all her frustration into you with the dildo you. You come 3 times before she comes herself.

“Feel better?” You ask her and she nods.

“Ya, thanks.” She tells you.

“Of course.” You tell her.

After a couple hours, you go home. You sometimes feel a bit like Melissa treats you like a casual sex partner. You love her and you’ve told her a few times but she’s never said it back before. You two have been going out for about 4 months now, and you were happy at first but now it’s starting to weigh you down. This time you don’t tell her you love her before you get in the car, you just get in your car and drive away.

You send her a good morning text like you do every morning but you don’t receive anything back. It’s always a gamble if you receive a text back or not.

You go to see her that afternoon after you’re both done work but this time she doesn’t let you in.

“What are you doing here?” She asks you.

“I wanted to see you so I came over to see you.” You tell her.

“I didn’t tell you that you could.” She tells you and your face drops.

“Oh, sorry to bother you.” You tell her and you turn around and leave. She shuts the door before you get to your car. You send her a good morning text every morning this week but she doesn’t reply. You send her one on Saturday morning and you tell yourself if she doesn’t reply then you’ll leave her. She isn’t acting like a loving partner, she hasn’t even said it back, maybe it’s because she doesn’t love you. Maybe she does see you as more of a casual sex partner.

She doesn’t reply to your text so you go to see her that night. You pull up to her driveway and knock on the door. She answers and she’s wondering why you’re there.

“Y/n why are you here again?” She says to you.

“I’ll be quick.” You tell her and she looks confused. “Melissa, I don’t know what kind of thing this is between us but it’s not what I thought it would be.” You start and she still looks at you confused. “I thought it would be a loving relationship but it seems that you just see me as a casual sex partner. And that’s not what I want with you. So I’m ending it with you.” You tell her and she looks at you shocked. Before she says anything, you bolt out of there.

Melissa stands there shocked for a couple minutes. She then carefully closes her front door and leans against it and takes a deep breath.

*rewind to the phone call. Melissa’s side*

She sees you calling and takes a deep breath, she’s had a shit day and doesn’t want to get angry at you. She still picks up though.

“Hey y/n.” She says, trying to remain casual.

“Hi Melissa, how was work?” You tell her a bit cheerfully.

“It was fine.” She doesn’t ask you about yours. She wants to distance herself from you. She’s developing big feelings for you and she doesn’t know what to do with it. You’re so young and beautiful, she doesn’t know why you’re still with her.

“Alright, I had a pretty ok day.” You tell her and a bit of anger escapes her.

“Did you call to rub it in my face that you had a better day than me?” She asks you and then mentally facepalms.

“No, just called to talk to you.” You tell her and she thinks you’re too good for her. “Want me to come over to help cheer you up?” You offer her and she knows she should say no.

“Sure.” She lets slip out and she facepalms, she’s supposed to be distancing herself, not letting you come over. You happily tell her you’re on your way and then hang up.

When you come over she pushes you against the door. She missed you and to throw her shit day into the mix, she has your clothes off quickly. It isn’t much longer until she’s pounding the dildo into you, letting her anger, frustration and love into it. You go home after a little bit and she watches you walk away and she looks down. She slowly closes the door and leans against it. She hears you turn your car on and pull away. She lets out a deep breath and a tear slips down her cheek.

She gets a good morning text from you the next morning and she groans. She gets one from you every morning and it’s so sweet and she curses at herself every morning. Why did the universe have to send her someone so young that she definitely doesn’t deserve. She doesn’t reply to you, and it hurts her every time. She knows she should break up with you instead of treating you like this, but she doesn’t have the heart to let you go.

You came over to see her the following day and she sends you away, she’s still mad at herself for letting you over yesterday. She doesn’t want to mess with your head but she can’t help it sometimes. She’s only human and she misses you and in those vulnerable times, it slips through.

She gets a text from you the rest of the week, even on Saturday.

She knows on Saturday that she should be planning dates with you like you guys used to do but she doesn’t. She spends the day by herself and thinking about you throughout most of the day. That night she hears a knock on her door and she goes to answer it. She didn’t expect to see you there when she answers it. Inside, she’s excited to see you again. On the outside, she’s neutral about it.

“Y/n why are you here again?” She tells you and it breaks her a bit to say that.

“I’ll be quick.” You tell her and she’s confused but lets you continue. “Melissa, I don’t know what kind of thing this is between us but it’s not what I thought it would be.” You continue and she has a feeling she knows where this is going and lets you continue. “I thought it would be a loving relationship but it seems that you just see me as a casual sex partner. And that’s not what I want with you. So I’m ending it with you.” You tell her and even if she was expecting this, it still hurts her and she’s shocked.

A million things run through her mind, what should she say? Should she try and make it up to you and get you back? Should she let you go? Before she makes up her mind, you bolt out of there and drive away. She stands there looking at where you were just standing and she’s defeated. She then carefully closes her front door and leans against it and takes a deep breath. She slides down the door to the ground. She turns to her side against it and leans her head against the door “I love you too y/n.” She says to the air and cries.

The next day she’s curled on the couch and stares at her phone, debating if she should text or call you or to let you live your life without her. After all, isn’t this what she wanted? For you to leave her so you can live your life? It is what she wanted, she reminds herself, it still hurts though.

You got home after ending it with Melissa and cry when you get home. You had to do it, she was messing with your head and you have to protect your mental health. The next day you spend all day thinking about her. The first 2 months was great, then you told her you love her and that’s when things started to change. When she started to change.

You did nothing on Sunday, then you went to work on Monday. You walked in the building and went to your desk. A couple hours later you hear a knock on your door and you look up. You see Janine there with a smile.

“What’s up Janine?” You ask her.

“Well I wanted to run something by you before I go to the meeting and bring it up with everyone else.” She tells you and you let her sit and go through it with you.

You and Janine became quick friends at the district. You went with Janine to go to Abbott quite a few times and that’s how you met Melissa. No one knew about your relationship with her. Melissa preferred to keep it a secret and you went along with it cause most relationships with people are a secret at first until it becomes official. But then Melissa wanted to keep it secret and you knew she preferred to keep her personal life private.

Janine runs by what she wanted to bring up to everyone else. You gave her a couple tips about it and told her that it’s great.

On Monday the next week, Janine knocks on your door again.

“Hey Janine.”

“Hey y/n, so they want us to go to Abbott and keep an eye on the librarian program for a few days.” She tells you and you pale. Abbott. Where Melissa is.

“Starting when?” You ask her.

“Um like right now.” She tells you and you sigh.

“Ok let me finish this up, and we can go. It shouldn’t take me more than 15 minutes.” You tell her and she nods and goes.

The two of you arrive at Abbott 45 minutes later. You walk in through the front door and a few memories come back. They used to be happy memories but now they just bring you down.

You check in at the front desk and you make it to the library for the meeting during lunch to introduce the librarian. You walk in with Janine and all eyes go on the both of you. Janine takes centre stage and you see everyone look at her. You take notes about what’s talked about and you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you the entire time. You look up and don’t see anyone staring at you but that feeling doesn’t go away the whole time. You see Melissa there next to Barb but she seems neutral like always.

“Y/n and I will oversee the librarian program for the entire week. If you have any questions, complaints or concerns about it then come to one of us.” Janine says then all the teachers are dismissed.

*Melissa*

Melissa was sitting in the library next to Barb, waiting for the meeting to start. She sees Janine walk in and then she sees you and she freezes. She didn’t expect to see you so soon but the district usually sent you with Janine to oversee changes at Abbott.

She tries to look away to focus on what Janine was saying the entire time but all she can focus on is you. She sees you go to look up and she focuses her attention on Janine before you can see her staring at you. She keeps doing that until Janine finishes.

“Y/n and I will oversee the librarian program for the entire week. If you have any questions, complaints or concerns about it then come to one of us.” Janine finishes and her breath hitches, you’ll be here for the entire week?

Melissa got pulled out of her inner crisis by her best friend calling her name. “Melissa, Melissa?” Barb said and Melissa looked at her.

“What?”

“Well y/n is here, don’t you want to go say hi your friend?” Barb said and Melissa shook her head.

“No, she’s busy overseeing the librarian program.”

“Well I’m sure she can take 10 seconds to say hello to you.”

“Just drop it Barb.” Melissa told her as she grabbed her purse and walked out. Barb could tell something has been off with Melissa for a week, she’s been in a sour mood. Barb is still happy to see you so she decided to go say hi to you by herself.

“Hi y/n.” Barb told you and you looked up from your notes.

“Hi Barb, how have you been?” You asked her.

“Oh I’m good. Can’t say the same for Melissa though.” She said and you raised an eyebrow in question. “She’s been in a sour mood for a week.” She told you. “She would have said hi to you if she wasn’t in a mood.” She told you.

“Oh well that’s alright, I wonder what happened.” You told her.

“I’m not sure. She won’t tell me.” Barb said and then she got an idea. She saw how Melissa looks at you and she might tell you. “Maybe you could ask her if you get a minute.” Barb said and you looked at her confused.

“If she doesn’t want to tell you then I highly doubt she’ll tell me.” You state. “I mean she tells you everything.”

“She tells me mostly everything. There’s still some things she keeps to herself. But how have you been dear?”

“Been better, I was seeing someone but I ended it recently.” You told her.

“Oh I’m sorry sweetheart. Since you’ll be here all week then maybe you can sit with Melissa and I at lunch again.” She tells you and you bite your lip.

“I don’t know how busy I’ll be but I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” You tell her and she nods her head and leaves the library.

Oh y/n.” Janine says and comes up to you. “Would you mind handing these reviews out to the the teachers on the first floor and I’ll do the second floor.” She says and hands you a stack of papers. “And feel free to talk to any teachers, we don’t have much else to do the rest of the day.” She adds and leaves the library. As soon as she leaves it hits you, Melissa is a teacher on the first floor. You leave the library and get started, you decide to just get it over with, with Melissa.

You walk to her classroom and knock on the door. “Come in.” You hear her say, you take a deep breath, open the door and walk in. Melissa looks up at who entered and did a double take.

“I came to drop this off, I’m tasked to hand it out to all the first floor teachers.” You tell her and hand a piece of paper to her. “Just fill it out and hand it back to me or Janine at the end of the week.” You say and turn to leave.

“Wait.” She says and you turn back around. “How-how have you been?” She asks and you’re taken back.

“You should have asked that when we were together.” You tell her and she looks down.

“There’s a lot of things I should have done.” She mutters but you hear her.

“There’s something I don’t understand though.” You tell her and she looks up at you. “It was fine in the beginning, but then the last 2 months, something changed. What happened?” You asked her.

“Nothing really happened, just stopped working.” She says to you and you push.

“I know when you’re lying.” You tell her. “What happened?” You asked again and she went back to the papers on her desk. “Was I not pretty enough?” You ask and she snaps her head at you.

“That’s not it at all.” She tells you.

“Was I not enough for you?” You ask her.

“That's not it either.”

“Then please tell me. I’ve gone through all of the possible reasons in my head and I can’t figure it out.” You plead and she looks absolutely defeated.

“I can’t tell you.” She says and you sigh.

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t.” She says and you go to say something but she cuts you off. “Thank you for the paper, I’ll fill it out by the end of the week.” She tells you and you sigh.

“Fine then. Don’t know why I expected an answer. Never got any when we were together.” You tell her and she snaps her head at you again. You go to walk out but then turn around with another question. “Can you at least answer me this. Did you even love me?” You ask her and her eyes widen.

“Why do you want to know?” She asks.

“Because I want to know. You never said it back but I want to know if you did.” You tell her and she regrets the next words out of her mouth.

“You have your answer. There’s a reason I never said it back.” She tells you and sees the hurt on your face. She really wants to comfort you but knows she can’t.

“You should have just broken up with me, instead of just dragging me along and using me.” You tell her and turn around and walk out. You close the door and take a deep breath and continue your work. Unknown to you, Barb heard most of that conversation as she was walking along and hid in the classroom next door and Melissa’s door was open. You continue handing out the papers to the teachers and Barb goes to see Melissa.

“You and y/n went out?” Barb asks Melissa as soon as she enters her classroom without even knocking.

“What?” Melissa asks with a sniffle.

“You and y/n dated. But it ended a week ago, didn’t it?” Barb asks and Melissa nods. “What happened?”

Melissa goes on to tell her everything that happened, holding nothing back.

“Oh Melissa, you should have not let those doubts and thoughts take over. She made you happy.” Barb says and Melissa sighs.

“She did ya. I didn’t have the heart to break up with her so I pushed her to break up with me.” Melissa says. “I miss her so much.” Melissa says and begins to cry and Barb comforts her friend.

The next day you walk in and you went to go ask Gregory a question but before you knock, you overhear a conversation between Melissa and Barb in Melissa’s classroom, the door slightly open.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you walk over to hear their conversation better.

“Melissa, you should tell her the real reason the relationship ended.” Barb says to her.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because then you two would actually talk, and besides, y/n deserves to know the truth.” Barb says and your eyes widen.

“How would I tell her what really happened? Cause I don’t know the whole part myself.” Melissa says with a sigh.

“Melissa, you know the whole reason, stop blaming yourself for being human. You had a lot of doubts about being in the relationship because of the age difference, that’s alright to have. But you should have talked to her about that instead of pushing her to break up with you.” Barb tries to talk sense into her friend.

“She deserves to have a life. One that she won’t get by being with me.”

“And who gets to decide that? Cause I think y/n should decide that for herself.”

“I’m not going to talk to her Barb! I love her too much to let her get stuck in a relationship with someone like me!” Melissa says and you gasp silently so they won’t hear you and then tip toe over to Gregory’s classroom. You count to 10 seconds so they wouldn’t think that you heard everything and knock. Gregory opens the door a couple seconds later.

“Oh hey y/n, what’s up?” He asks you.

“I had a couple questions for you actually, do you mind if I take a couple minutes of your time?” You ask.

“Oh not at all, do you want to come in? I was just writing something on the board before they get here.” He says and you hear Barb exit Melissa’s classroom.

“Oh sure, that’s not a problem.” You tell him and enter the classroom.

*rewind to a couple minutes ago*

“I’m not going to talk to her Barb! I love her too much to let her get stuck in a relationship with someone like me!” Melissa tells and Barb sighs.

Barb speaks the next part quietly. “Melissa, there’s nothing wrong about being in a relationship with you. I’ve been your best friend for many years and you’re an amazing person who constantly puts yourself down for no reason.” Barb tells her and before Melissa can say anything else, you both hear a knock down the hall Gregory speaking.

“Oh hey y/n.” He says.

“Do you think she heard us?” Melissa asks, eyes wide.

“No, I don’t think so. She might have just been coming down the hall and I spoke too quietly for her to hear.” Barb says. “Think about what I said.” Barb says and Melissa nods. Barb then leaves the classroom and Melissa hears your voice.

“Oh sure, that’s not a problem.” Melissa sighs, she really misses you.

You spend the day analysing Melissa’s behaviour when you’re around, and what you overheard might be true. Melissa does seem to keep glancing at you as much as possible, and you see it in the corner of your eye so she doesn’t think she’s getting caught. It’s not as much as she’s looking at you but how she’s looking at you. She has sadness and guilt on her face and it looks like she wants to talk to you but keeps stopping herself.

You decide to go see her at home after school today. You pull up her driveway and go and knock on the door. She opens it about 5 seconds later and she’s stunned to see you there.

“Y/n?” She says in disbelief.

“Can I come in?”

“W-why?”

“Because we need to talk.” You tell her sternly and she steps aside to let you in. You walk in and go sit on her couch. Melissa closes the door slowly, takes a breath, turns towards you and walks over.

“What did you want to talk about?” She asks and you look at her.

“I heard everything you and Barb said this morning in your classroom.” You tell her and she gasps.

“You what?” She asks in shock.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was really going on inside your head?” You ask her and she sighs, then comes to sit on the couch.

“Because y/n, you’re so young and you might not understand it to the full extent.” Melissa says.

“You don’t think I haven’t had similar thoughts, only in reverse?” You say and she looks confused. “I’ve had doubts too, about the age gap, I thought that maybe I was too young for you. I thought you would think I’m too immature or something.” You tell her.

“You being immature never crossed my mind.” She tells you and you look into her eyes and see how genuine she’s being.

“Barb‘s right, it’s up to me to decide what I want in my life. I may be young but I’m old enough to know what I want.” You tell her and she tilts her head at you.

“And what do you want?”

“You, you idiota!” You tell her and she looks taken aback.

“Did you just call me an idiot in Italian?” She asks.

“Yes I did.” You say proudly and she smiles.

“I definitely deserve that.” She says to you. “I don’t know how I’d ever make you forgive me and make it up to you.” She tells you and you go and connect your phone to the speaker in her living room. Melissa is watching you the whole time. You walk back up to her and hold out a hand for her to talk and she looks at you confused.

“You said you don’t know how to make it up to me, start by dancing with me.” You tell her and she holds your hand. You yank at it and she gets up and follows you to the open area. The song starts off slow and you’re humming along to it while you and Melissa slow dances and you can tell she doesn’t know it. Once the chorus goes you sing and spin her in surprise. “Don’t blame me, love made me crazy! If it doesn’t, you ain’t doing it right! Lord save me, my drug is my baby, I’ll be using for the rest of my life!” You sing and Melissa is amused with this song. The next one starts and this one she knows and she starts singing it.

“Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown.” She starts and she twirls you around. “You do something to me that I can't explain.”

Then you sing. “Hold me closer and I feel no pain.” You both sing it.

“Making love to each other ah ah. Islands in the stream, this is what we are!” She twirls you back into her and your back is pushed into her front and you look at each other.

“Sail away with me.” She sings to you and you both continue to dance to it.

The next song is more upbeat and Melissa knows she’s heard it before but can’t place it. You start dancing to the beat with her and she just goes along with it.

“And I’m singing a song, hoping he’ll be back when he hears it.” You sing and let go of her hands. “My heart goes sha-la-la-la” you sing and clap 3 times to the beat and you do it again while also singing and she laughs. She then goes to your Spotify and plays a song that hopefully explains how she feels. She presses on it and it starts playing and she sings it. You instantly recognize the song but you pay attention to her singing it.

“Remember those walls I built? Well baby, they’re tumbling down, and they didn’t even put up a fight, they didn’t even make a sound. I found a way to let you in but I never really had a doubt. Standing in the light of your halo, I got my angel now.” She sings and lifts you up and spins you. “It’s like I’ve been awakened , every rule I had you breakin’, it’s the risk that I’m takin’. “ she continues and puts you down and cups your cheek. “I ain’t never gonna shut you out.” She says and then spins you around. “I’m surrounded by your embrace. Baby, I can see your halo, you know you’re my saving grace. You’re everything I need and more.” And she locks your hands together and puts one on your hip and you put yours on her shoulder and then she spins you both around. “It’s written all over your face, baby I can feel your halo, pray it won’t fade away. I can feel your halo halo, I can see your halo halo, I can feel your halo halo, I can see your halo halo.” She sings and you can tell there’s more to it than just her singing the words.

You pull her to you and you connect your lips with hers, she kisses you back without hesitation. When you pull back, she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and then she cups your cheek. “I’m really sorry for everything y/n. I should have talked to you but I was too scared to and then I believed the doubts that my mind came up with. You’re too good for me.” She says and kisses your forehead. “It broke my heart to act like how I did to you. But I thought it was the best for you.” She told you and you press a finger to her lips before she continues.

“I’ll forgive you, but on one condition.” You tell her and she looks at you with a lot of hope.

“Name it, anything.” She says.

“If you want to get back together with me, then I don’t want to hide the relationship.” You tell her and she smiles and hugs you.

“Of course! I want to be with you again and we can tell everyone!” She says through tears and hugs you tight, a bit too tight.

“Melissa, I do need to breathe.” You say and she immediately lets you go.

“Sorry.” She says and you kiss her.

You both pull back and you start humming a song before singing the next line. “I don’t do boys, just do girls, just do girl with kissable ass.” You sing and she bursts out laughing.

“You’re such a dork.” She tells you.

“Ya but you love me.” You tell her and she hums.

“I do, I do love you.” She says with her hands wrapped around your waist.

“I love you too.” You tell her and she smiles.

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