moominsuki
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be exactly what you are; else you might rob yourself of the chance to be loved as exactly as you are.
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đ⨠A Voice from Gaza: Fighting for Hope â¤ď¸âđŠš
Hi, my name is Mosab , and Iâm from Gaza. Life here has been harder than I could ever imagine, but today Iâm sharing my story with hope in my heart, because your kindness has already given us so much strength.
This journey hasnât been easy. The war has taken 25 family members from usâ25 beautiful souls we loved deeply. Their laughter, their presence, their love⌠all of it is gone, leaving behind memories that are both precious and painful. Every day, I carry the weight of their loss, but I also carry their spirit, which gives me the strength to keep going.



Our Journey So Far
When I first reached out, I couldnât have imagined weâd make it this far. Your support has been a light in these difficult times, and we are so deeply grateful for every single contribution.
But the road ahead is still challenging. Every day, weâre reminded of how much weâve lost and how much we still need to rebuild.
Hereâs what life in Gaza looks like for my family right now:
đ Safety: The uncertainty of tomorrow weighs heavily on us.
đ˘ Loss: The absence of the 25 family members weâve lost is a pain we carry every moment.
đ Dreams on Hold: The future feels so far away when survival takes all our strength.
How You Can Help Us Cross the Finish Line Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:
$5 may seem small, but for us, itâs a little relief, a moment of comfort, and a reminder that kindness still exists. â¤ď¸
Canât donate? Reblog this post to help us reach someone who can. Every share matters more than you know.
â
ď¸ Vetted by @gazavetters ( #309 ) â
ď¸
Why Your Support Matters Your kindness isnât just about helping us meet our goalâitâs about reminding us that weâre not alone in this fight. Itâs about hope. Itâs about survival. And itâs about giving my family a chance to rebuild our lives, even in the face of unimaginable loss.
Thank you for helping us get this far. Your generosity and compassion have already brought us closer to a better tomorrow, and for that, Iâm endlessly grateful.
With all my love and gratitude,
Mosab and Family â¤ď¸
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uma. i just want you to know that the driest spell of them all lives in my mind absolutely rent-free and i am by no means evicting it anytime soon (ever). you are so, so good at your craft, what the hell!!!
bookmarking your bkg masterlist for me to binge soon <3 mwah!
zee you are the sweetest and this is high praise coming from you of all people wtf i will cry rn
#had to come out of hiatus for this one#i might have to get back at it⌠soon#âđ[ loveletter ] đă°Ëâ#âđ[ from lightseoul ]ă°Ëâ
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it always ends with i love you ft. wriothesley â in which you, a small floral shop owner, meet the duke of meropide by a chance encounterâand then you meet a bunch more tooâŚbut not so much by chance anymore
contains: 20.3k work count (please give it a chance i put my soul into it) ; female reader ; mature contentânot suitable for minors ; strangers to friends to lovers ; flower shop au + florist reader ; reader has a small backstory regarding her dead father ; use of canon flowers and and lore, meaning i did my best so please be gentle on me with my botany facts ; heavy spoilers for wriothesleyâs story quest and backstory, explores themes such as murder and hints at child exploitation and traffickingâall pertaining to his adopted home life ; slight ocâs because i gave a few of his adopted siblings names ; a fun neuvillette and clorinde appearance! ; a not so fun childe appearance + jealousy ; a short argument ; love confessions and getting together ; wriothesley is scared of love (anyone who had to kill their parents should be tbh) ; reader sits on his lap/lays on him ; thereâs sex in every scene lol i got carried awayâincludes vaginal fingering ; cunnilingus ; nipple play ; hand + blow jobs ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie
the first time you meet wriothesley is by accident.
he doesnât exactly come up to the surface regularlyâhe sees the sun frequently enough to remember what sunlight feels like if he tries to recall, but not enough that most people of fontaine would know heâs the duke of meropide just by looking at him.
he likes it that way. the duke is no small title, and heâd prefer the trip through the streets of the court without being stopped for idle chit-chat.
he doesnât intend on stopping on his way to the palais, but youâre a bit of a unique circumstance.
he hears the smashing sound of something breaking before the scream, quickly glancing over his shoulder at the noise. nothing could have prepared him for a flower shop to be the source of such chaosâwhat could be chaotic about selling petals on a stem?
except youâre clumsily chasing after a man as he stumbles past your door, knocking over the potted plants on display in the process as you follow him.
the look of distress on your face as the pot falls and shatters compels him to investigate the scene. (of course, thereâs a note of distress on your face before the pot falls, but the way it deepens when it does is almost criminal. your face is too lovely to have such creases in your forehead, even if he wonât admit as much out loud).
âstop! please,â you call, âyou havenât paid for those!â
thievery. wriothesley knows a thing or two about pocketing things that donât belong to him.
first, itâs because he spends a portion of his life on the streets, surviving more than living. those moments reduce him down to a simple pocket thief at times. (he had standards for his crimes: never too much and only enough to survive for a bit. always from someone who dresses expensively and looks like theyâre comfortable enough not to feel the damage to their wallets. and, of course, never from women).
second, itâs because people, on the streets or in the fortress, love to steal from those who are weak and vulnerable. people who are sleeping are of that classification of individuals, so wriothesley learns how to keep his things hidden and how to be a light sleeper. heâs never had too many things that are precious to him, of course, but he owns little enough that heâd notice his losses harshly should they come.
he hates thievery. partly because it reminds him of his past and the darkness that taints it, but mostly because it always involves someone innocent who doesnât deserve to lose. not even a little.
his feet carry him over to the scene before he can stop himselfânot that he would stop himself even if he did have control over his body, but itâs just that this particular circumstance seems to have him in some sort of trance. one that wonât allow him to look away from your face.
âplease,â you follow the man past your shopâs door, âthose are the last of my glaze liliesâi promised them in an order!â
the man running doesnât seem to care about your pleas, snickering as he turns to give you an amused look, as if your distress is entertaining. he doesnât make it far, though, before he bumps into a muscled chest.
âwhat theââ
wriothesley cuts him off, raising a brow. âi do believe the lovely lady here has asked for her flowers back. or did you miss that part?â
âand just who do you think you are, mister?â the man barks, glaring wriothesley up and down. (itâs a bit funny, considering heâs much shorter, so it takes a tad bit of effort on his part to give wriothesley the menacing once over itâs meant to be). âi donât remember asking you what she asked.â
âoh me?â wriothesley cracks his knuckles casually, shrugging as he says, âduke of meropide at your service. i must say, iâm not very popular around hereânot a lot of people know me, it seems.â
your jaw drops. the manâs face palesâwhich is a nice confirmation, at least, that he does have some sort of a brain.
âw-what? and just why would i believe that? you expect me to think the fortressâs duke is just prancing around the streets as if he hasnât got duties? as if!â
wriothesleyâs lips quirk up at the edges as he hums, fishing through the pocket of his shirt before he pulls out an envelope, sealed with the stamp of the iudex himself. thereâs writing on it in clear letters, bold and italicized, as if just to mock the man.
to: duke wriothesley
from: iudex neuvillette
âthat clear things up for you?â wriothesley asks, traces of a cheeky glint in his eyes as he raises a brow.
instantly, the man is clasping his hands, head bowing as a string of incoherent apologies flows past his shaky lips. âi-iâm sorry! iâve never done anything like this before, you can check! my records are clean! i-it was a moment of weakness, but it wonât happen again, sir. p-please donât take me to monsieur neuvillette. or court. orââ
âyour first thieving gig, and you picked flowers?â wriothesley snorts, âi almost donât want to bring you to court just save myself from the embarrassment.â
the man flushes, bashfully shrinking as he mumbles, âw-well i justâŚi just wanted to get flowers for my girlfriend for our anniversary and theseâŚth-theyâre her favorite you know? b-but theyâre hard to come by since liyue is so far andâŚand the lady wouldnât sell them to me soâŚyou knowâŚi uhâŚâ the man trails off, wilting as wriothesleyâs stares down, unimpressed. âi promised her iâd get them,â he adds, as if itâll help.
âwhat a tragic sob story you got there,â wriothesley deadpans. âyour girlfriend must love your honesty.â
âif i may interrupt,â you call from behind, making both men glance over to where you stand some distance away.
wriothesley forgot you were there, truthfully. but now that heâs taking in your appearance up closer, he canât help but appreciate it. your features complement each other wellâlike an assortment of carefully arranged flowers, hand-picked one by one by celestia themselves.
âhello miss,â he nods, raising a hand to half-wave at you, âdonât worry, iâll get this man out of your hair in a moment with your flowers too. just give me a secââ
âno,â you say softly, âno itâs okay. he can keep some of themâŚiâm sure i can make do with a shorter hand than usual.â
he blinks. you couldnât have possibly offered to let your thief keep his earnings at your expense, could you? he canât decide if you're just that naive, just that foolish, or truly just that kind.
maybe all three, if heâs being honest.
âuhâŚare you sure?â he tilts his head in disbelief, âyou want to let him keep the flowers?â
âpartially,â you confirm, âitâs alright. everyone deserves flowers on their anniversary. especially their favorite.â
wriothesley decides youâre just that kindâand in some ways, itâs worse than being a bit on the naive side. at least you can sharpen yourself to become untrusting and skeptical if naivety gets you in trouble. kindness is as easy to take advantage of as it is to take for granted, and itâs not just something people like you can turn off like a switch.
âoh, thank you!â the man exclaims as soon as the words come out of your mouth, not wasting a second to grin at you as he says, âyouâre really so kind! if youâd just tell the duke here that it was all a misunderstanding and that youâd like to drop all charges, then iâll be on my way with partial the flowersââ
âmake no mistake,â your hands find your hips as your face hardens with a certain strictness even heâs a bit startled by, âif you should come here and cause trouble again, i have the dukeâs word to press double the charges next time. i would tread carefully if i were youâdonât ever let me catch you stealing from me again.â
wriothesley stares at you and gapes. heâs sorely mistaken about youâkindness is not the absence of your spitefulness, and the man shrinks back as you stare down at him expectantly.
âo-of course,â he says quickly, âit wonât happen again.â
âgood,â you nod, âthatâll be five hundred mora, please.â
âb-butââ
âis there a problem?â you raise a menacing brow, making the man scramble to shake his head.Â
âwow,â wriothesley snorts as the man scampers off after fishing enough mora from his pockets, âi suppose i underestimated your ability to handle the situation, miss.â
âi think i owe a good portion of my success to you, your grace,â you bow your head slightly, unable to meet his eyes as you nervously chuckle, âi donât usually have robberies. the people in this area are familiar with me. theyâre quite kindâiâve never had someone as stubborn as him.â
âwell, rest assured, if he bothers you again, you can come to find me for my word at court.â
âiâll hold onto the offer,â you grin.
that chance meeting becomes history after a while. he comes and pays you a visit every time heâs at the surface, which isnât all too often, but often enough that you start to look forward to at least one routine visit per month. sometimes, he teases you about whether or not youâve had new thieves pay you a visit. other times, you make use of his strong hands and built muscles and cheekily order him around to move heavy bags of fertilizer around.Â
he likes tea, you learnâhe takes a very piqued interest in the jars of dried petals you keep on shelves, ones you tell him are good for making blends for tea, or to boil with water for natural remedies, or to make syrups for beverages like lemonade. itâs a slow, steady, blossoming friendship until, all at once, you feel incomplete without the routine visit from the fortressâs warden. youâre too reliant on the familiarity of explaining flowers, their origins, what stories they share, and what they meanâand likewise, you feel incomplete without his stories from the fortress, what the inmates are up to, and what changes heâs developing to make things better for the people under his wing.Â
you like to think he feels the same way; otherwise, he wouldnât come around as much as he does.Â
sometimes he walks you home, and sometimes you invite him for tea. you drink coffee, but you donât mind the trouble of brewing two beverages if it means some extra time with him in your cozy little home.
like today, where he sits comfortably at your dining table while you cut fresh bulle fruit as tea steeps in the hot water. he watches you with fond eyes, listening as you ramble intently about your recent endeavors at your flower shop.
ââand i think iâve finally managed to grow a cactus from sumeru long enough to bloom my own henna berries,â you grin, looking at him brightly, pride settling into the crinkles of your eyes, âit did take some trial and errorâfontaine rains far too often for cacti to survive, but this one i managed to grow indoors.â
âcouldnât you just get the berries delivered from sumeru? since you have plenty delivered from there already,â he asks in amusement. you huff, rolling your eyes as you walk over, setting the platter of fruit down before him.Â
âof course, youâd want to take such a simple routeâbut plants are far more rewarding when you grow them yourself, you know. plus, every fruit iâve managed to grow on my own here in fontaine has had a bit of a unique flavor as opposed to ones grown from their original nation. iâd like to see if thatâs the case with these berries, too.â
âwell, if thatâs the case,â he hums, taking a slow sip from the tea youâve brewed for himâitâs perfectly made to his liking, with two sugar cubes and piping hot just as youâve learned he prefers. he closes his eyes and lets out a content sigh as the warmth trickles down his throat. âlet me try one when theyâre ready.â
âof course,â you brighten excitedly, as though the prospect of someone to share such a moment with is one you look forward to. thereâs something that tickles in his chest, right beneath his ribcage, at the sight of your wide grin.
you chatter until the sun sets, warm, honeyed rays of orange and pink pouring through your windows and painting his skin vibrant hues. itâs about time for him to leaveâyou can tell even before he clears his throat and stands, grabbing the plate and mug and heading to the sink.
âi should go,â he says kindly, washing the dishes with so much familiarity that it almost feels domestic and natural to have him here. you shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it enters your head. âthank you for having me this evening.â
âoh, i think weâre past the formalities,â you huff a small laugh, âyouâre doing my dishes.â
âtechnically theyâre my dishes,â he chuckles, âsince i did dirty them.â
you hum, walking over to where he stands as he turns the faucet offâuntil a small twist of your ankle has you gasping as you stumble forward. you brace yourself for the impact of the hardwood floor, but instead, youâre met with a firm yet soft chest as strong arms wrap around your waist and catch you before you can fall.
âoh,â you breathe as you open your eyes, staring into him with just as widened pupils as him.Â
âare you okay?â he asks quietly, voice just barely audible as he whispers to youâheâs so close, so painfully close, you think the only reason you heard him was because of the proximity.Â
âyeah,â you nod. itâs hardly a nod, reallyâif you were to move your head too much, youâd risk brushing your nose against his. or maybe even your lips. âiâm fine. thank you.â
âyeah, no problem,â his eyes are still trained on yours, and neither of you can find it in yourselves to pull away. you canât, and he definitely doesnât, and nothing seems to give as you stare at each other. youâre pressed against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, and thereâs a strange beating in both of your chests that you think you can just barely make out.
they almost seem to beat in sync, rapid and untamed. so, so fast, you wonder if itâs even healthy.
you donât know who does it firstâor maybe it was the both of you. all you know is that one second, youâre staring at each other, and the next, your heads are tilted so that your lips meet tentatively. he hesitates at the first brush of your lips, but your hands cup his cheeks and pull him forward, making his eyes flutter shut as he shakily breathes into your mouth. itâs so slow, so dizzyingly slow, that you wonder if time has just stopped altogether to grant you a moment with no interruptions.Â
he fits perfectly against you, the soft flesh of his cheeks spilling over your palms, your thumb rubbing affectionately into the skin as he nips at your lips, kissing you like heâs waited his whole life to feel you. the curves of his mouth connect with the curves of yours like pieces of a puzzle, like he was carved to match you from the same stone.Â
youâre not sure how long you kiss like that, but slowly, it grows needier, more quick and hasty as your hands leave his cheeks to wander to his hair and gently tug at the strands as his hands wander to your waist and lower back, feeling every curve of you as he groans into your mouth.Â
he tries to pull away, but you chase after him, unwilling to let go.
âw-wait,â he mumbles, âmaybe we should stopââ
âyou really want to?â you ask breathlessly, and all it takes is one glance down at your glossy, swollen lips for him to close his eyes and shiver.
âno,â he admits hoarsely, âi donât. areâŚare you sure about this?â
âyes,â you whisper instantly.
he doesnât waste a moment, quickly pulling you into your bedroom as you both collapse on the mattress. you climb onto his lap, crotch pressing against the semi-hardened erection in his pants, the press of your heat against his bulge earning a low, drawn-out groan from him that shoots straight to your clit with a dull ache.Â
âsweetheart,â he says in between kisses, making you inhale sharply at the pet name, âyouâre killing me here.â
âokay,â you smile against his mouth, pecking it sweetly before you add, âthen let me do something about that.â
he doesnât expect you to drop down between his legs, face to face with the obvious tent in his pantsâwriothesley is a gentleman, a giver before he is a taker. his first instinct is to protest as he opens his mouth and starts to say, âhang onâyou donât have toââ
âi want to,â you pout, looking up at him, âplease? i want to.â
when was the last time someone looked up at him like that, staring up at him like pleasing him is the only way theyâll survive? he doesnât recall, doesnât think itâs ever happened, in fact. he groans, head falling back against your bed frame as he nods slowly.Â
âokay,â he concedes, lifting his hips up so you can pull his pants down his legs, leaving him in his boxers. thereâs a wet patch where his tip meets the cloth, the evidence of pre cum drooling from his swollen head that makes you hum in satisfaction as you leave a tender kiss on the spot through the fabric. he gasps, hips jolting as his thighs clench at the teasing touch.
âcan i?â you purr, hand rubbing soothingly over his tense thigh as he swallows and nods, looking anywhere but at you as he breathes harshly.Â
ây-yes,â he grunts, âplease.â
youâre freeing his cock as soon as he utters the plead, letting him spring free and meet the cool air. he hisses, gritting his teeth as his chest rises and falls erratically, labored breaths that he tries to use to calm himself as he stands painfully hard between his legs.Â
âpretty,â you murmur, entranced at the sheer size of himâheâs flushed an almost painful red at his thick tip, leaking enough pre cum that youâd think he might have already had his release with the way it runs down the side of his hardened length.Â
your hand wraps gently around the tip, thumb smearing the pre cum along the tip before coating the rest of his cock, using it as lubrication for the steady stroke of your hand along the girth. he throws his head back, groaning as his hips buck into your touch before he stops himself, frantically trying to keep himself still and let you take your time.Â
âf-fuck,â he rasps, âthatâŚthat feels nice.â
âyeah?â you breathe, smiling as you press a kiss to his thigh as he chokes on a grunt while your hand slowly pumps him. âam i doing it right?â
âyouâre doing just fine,â he assures, biting his lip as he finally canât keep himself from bucking impatiently into your fist any longer, âfeel free to do more, though.â
you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lip before gliding your tongue through his slit and watching as he melts against your bed frame at the gesture, body loosening up like heâs limbless as you slowly take him into your mouth, swallowing around his cock and bobbing your head, pumping the rest with your hand that you canât fit down your throat.Â
âshit,â he curses, hand cupping the back of your head as he guides you up and down his length, moaning your name when you swirl your tongue around the tip, âyouâŚyouâre so good at this, yeah? take me so well in that pretty mouth of yours.â
you hum around him, making him cry out at the vibrations around his cock, one hand running through his hair as he tries to keep himself grounded, the other still cradling the back of your head. heâs a gentleman, though, living up to one just as much as he always lets on to be when he doesnât force you to take more of him by pushing your head down or burying himself deeper into your throat by fucking his hips into your mouth. he lets you do things at your own pace, and you think itâs enough when you feel the telling signs of his release as his panting grows harsher and his cock twitches in your mouth.
âw-wait, wait,â he says frantically, âiâll cumâiâll cum. not yet, not until i have you.â
you reluctantly pull away, a trail of spit connecting from your lips to his tip that makes him close his eyes and groan, clenching his jaw as his near-orgasm dies down to nothing again. his cock is achingly hard, hot and swollen and throbbing after denying himself for the sake of feeling you.
âcâmere,â he motions for you to climb onto his lap. you do, sitting on his thigh as he slowly trails a thumb under your shirt, rubbing the skin with a feather-light, heated touch that has you shivering against him. âyou sure you want this?â
âi want it,â you whisper, leaning to press a kiss to his lips that he reciprocates with a low hum of approval, âwith you.â
âsuch a sweet way with words,â he murmurs, slowly pulling your blouse over your head and unclasping your bra, tossing them to the side as he marvels at the view of your tits. âsuch a sweet view, too. beautiful.âÂ
you flush at the praise, looking away. but his hands grab at your breasts, large as they cup them and massage lightly, thumbs running over the pert nipples as you shudder and breathe out a light gasp.Â
âwriothesley, need moreââ
âgive me a moment,â he shushes you, âand then iâll give you what you want.â
he admires you like that for a bit, sat on his thigh as your eyes flutter shut and his thumbs tease your nipples, wetness pooling in your core that he can feel on his thighâyouâd be embarrassed, you really would, but itâs not as though his cock is any less leaky at the head.Â
finally, he inhales sharply, sitting up slightly to unbutton his shirt, revealing the scars down his chest before he helps you out of your pants. you stare at the harsh, jagged lines that pain his skin, raised, discolored skin, the only evidence of some brutal, vicious past that he survived.Â
your thumb traces down the lines, making him shiver at the fragileness behind the touch.
âwhereâd you get this?â you murmur, staring at him curiously.Â
âhmm? oh the scar on my body? it's from a gash i got while battling a gigantic undersea monster that tried to take over the fortress of meropideâŚâ he stares at you cheekily as you blink, looking at him unimpressed. âhah, just kidding.â
âdo you ever take anything seriously?â you shake your head and huff, but thereâs endearment on your face as you fight back a smile.
âon the contrary, milady,â he murmurs, grabbing your hips and pulling you back slightly, exposing your drenched cunt before he slowly sinks two fingers into your folds and curls them against the back of your walls, âi take this quite seriously.â
you gasp at the feeling, his digits rubbing against your walls and angling to hit a sensitive, achingly sweet spot at the back of your cunt. itâs precise, the way he pumps his fingers into you, slowly sinking in a third digit while you mewl and throw your head back. the heel of his palm catches against your clit, the sweet friction building your orgasm up slowly, slowly, until suddenly, youâre near the edge all at once.Â
âcâmon, donât hold back now,â he drawls, voice low and sweet and so attractive, you feel like the sound of him alone is enough to send you tumbling over the edge, âwhy donât you be a sweet little thing and let go for me, hm?â
you doâinstantly, you do, crying out his name is choked garbles as he works you through your orgasm with his fingers, still thrusting into you with a precise pace. finally, when youâre done clenching around him, he pulls his digits out, the slickness of your pussy coating them as he hums in satisfaction.Â
âthink youâre ready?â he asks softly, cradling the back of your head with his good hand as he pulls you closer, âor do you need one more from me?â
âiâm ready,â you huff impatiently, âi need you, need to feel you already.â
âokay, okay,â he laughs, amused but not anymore patient himself as his cock pulses between his legs, âiâm not trying to wait any longer, either. do you have aâŚuhâŚy-you knowâŚâ
you snort at the way he trails off awkwardly, flushing at the thought of asking for a condom as if heâs not completely nude under you. âno,â you giggle, pinching his cheek as he huffs, âbut we donât need one. itâs fine.â
âokay,â he nods slowly. his hands grab at your hips, firm yet so gentle with the way they lift you up and guide you to angle over his swollen cock, slowly helping you sink down on him as he chokes on a grunt when his head pushes past your folds.Â
you gasp as soon as he intrudes into your tight hole, splitting you open on his thick girth as you take him inch by inch until youâre sat on his lap completely, buried completely with his length as his jaw clenches at the tight squeeze of you around him.Â
âwriâwriothesley,â you sob brokenly, unable to say anything else besides cracked repeats of his name. heâs so big, buried so deep, and leaving you so full, youâre not sure if you have it in you to fuck onto him from this position.Â
he takes things into his own hands, thoughâroughly grabbing your hips and pulling you back before helping you sink back down on him again, rolling his own hips upward to bury deeper into you. your head spins, and all you can think to do is weakly plant your hands onto his shoulders before you roll your hips, grinding down on his length and sloppily fucking yourself onto him.
he bullies past your folds, curves deliciously into the most intimate parts of you, fat tip slamming against the soft, sensitive spot that makes you see white. pleasure burns up your spine, building a coil in your belly that grows tighter, tighter, tighterâso close yet so far from snapping and letting you plummet into your second release.Â
âthatâs it,â he grunts, âfuckâyouâre so tight, so good. iâveâŚiâve never felt anything so good. itâs like you were made for me, werenât you? take me so well, fit around me so well.â
his hand moves to your clit, thumb pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing merciless circles against it as you mewl, head burying into his neck as your nails claw at his shoulder. everything is so goodâso hot and filthy and leaves you impatiently desperate for some form of release. the friction of his cock dragging along every ridge leaves your mind hazed, and the harsh press of his tip against your sweet spot leaves your vision blurry.Â
youâre not sure how you even have the strength to rock yourself onto his stiff length, but somehow you manage, and he seems keen on helping you, too, with rough, bruising hands that grip your waist with a punishingly tight grasp.
âc-canât hold on much longer,â you cry, voice a strangled sob thatâs muffled into his skin, âiâm s-so close. please.â
âme too,â he pants, voice just as strained as yours as he moans through a cracked voice when you clench down on his particularly tightly, âme too, sweetheart. iâm right there with you, alright? let goâc-câmon.â
once more, you cum around himâthis time on his cock instead of his fingers, and if the first time felt good, the second time is devastating. your vision practically goes white as your walls spasm around him, slick and dripping with your release and mixing with his own as he follows you not long after. his cock jolts, pumping hot, sticky ropes of his seed deep into you, and both of your bodies are slumped against one another as you barely roll your hips, sloppy pace with no rhythm as you focus on getting yourselves through the ecstasies of your orgasms.Â
his thumb is still pressing against your clit, and your hands have left his shoulders to bury into his sweaty hair, tugging fiercely at the dark strands and making him groan at the mix of pain and pleasure.Â
finally, you both ride out the final few waves, him slumping against your bed as you fall against his sturdy chest, face still buried into his neck. sweat clings to your skin, but you donât mind the feeling of his damp skin against yours, not when the warmth of your body makes the afterglow feel so sweet. your fingers thread through his hair, soothing over his scalp with the rake of your nails where youâd just tugged so harshly, and his palms glide up and down your hips, rubbing gentleness back into the parts where he dug bruises along the skin.Â
âwait, is that watering can supposed to be a dog?â he asks out of the blue, making you lift your head and look over your shoulder.
âyes,â you quirk a brow, watching as he lets out a small snort as he looks at the watering can by your plants in wonder.
âitâs pretty ugly.â
ârude!â you gasp, pulling away slightly as he shakes under you in laughter, âi think itâs adorable!â
âdo you now?â he bites his lips, attempting to suppress the smile that threatens to take over, âyou haveâŚinteresting taste.â
âoh, youâre dead to me,â you spit dramatically, collapsing back against his chest as you bury your head into his neck again. âdead to me, i say.â
âmy apologies,â he snickers. his hand rubs slowly into your hip, quietly humming for a moment before he asks, âwhat made you so passionate about plants?â
âi canât just really like them?â you challenge.
âsure,â he shrugs, eyeing the watering can again as he smiles, âbut you donât give the impression that you just happen to just really like leaves, and thatâs it.â
âthereâs more to plants than leaves,â you scoff, rolling your eyes. and then, much gentler this time, âmy father was a scholar from sumeru. an herbologist.â your voice is a quiet murmur, a low hum as you speak into his neck while his hands are still rubbing into your hips, âi used to be fascinated by his journals and all the plants heâd seen. he died when i was young, so sometimesâŚsometimes i try to grow them here in fontaine myself. just to feel close to him.â
âdo you?â he asks quietly, staring at the various plants that decorate your small home. itâs cozy, he thinks, so lively and warm that it almost doesnât feel like youâre the only inhabitant. âdo you feel close to him when you do?â
âif it works,â you admit, âitâs not always easy to recreate the same conditions theyâre meant to grow in.â
âi think you do an impressive job,â he praises, earning a slow smile from you that he can feel curve into his skin, âiâve yet to come across a flower shop in fontaine with as much variety as yours.â
âyou flatter me, your grace,â you chuckle, pulling away as you stare at him, the tousled hair from where his hand ran through, the swollen bottom lip where his teeth sank in, the flushed skin where heat settled. you take all of it in slowly, admiring him as he looks up at you through lidded eyes.
âdo i? i meant it seriously, not in flattery,â he raises a brow and smirks, âif i wanted to try flattery on you, i think iâd have some other choice words.â
âdonât be so insatiable,â you gently swat at his chest, earning a chuckle from him. âwill you be able to stop by tomorrow?â
âiâm afraid not,â he sighs, âi have a meeting with some people from the palais tomorrow at the fortress. itâll run a bit late.â
âoh,â you try to hide the disappointment in your voice, but he seems to sense it instantly. âthatâs okay. i just had a blend i thought you might like to tryâfor tea, that is. itâs umâŚi dried the petals myself, and itâs new. i thought iâd let you be the first to try it to let me know what you think.â
you try not to giggle at the way he perks up at the mention of tea.
âah, iâm afraid i wonât have time tomorrow. butâŚâ he coughs, trailing off as he looks away, contemplating his words.
âbutâŚ?â you press.
âbutâŚwell, i have a few guards returning tomorrow from the surface from a few tasks i gave them. i could have them stop by the shop to escort you down to the fortress if that works for youâŚitâs okay if you canât, though! i can always come by sometime this week when my duties arenât asââ
âthat sounds nice,â you cut him off, grinning widely, something close to excitement blooming across your features, brighter than any set of petals in your shop, he thinks. âyou can give me an official tour of the fortress, perhaps. iâve only ever heard about it through stories.â
âas you wish, my lady,â he winks.
he leaves not too long afterâyou try not to focus on his lingering scent in your sheets once you settle back in after bidding him goodbye. itâs oddly peaceful, being surrounded by him even when heâs not there, and sleep lulls over you quicker than usual.Â
the scent is faded by the time you wake up, so you take one last deep breath to inhale it before you set off to get ready for the day, counting down the hours before you get to see him again.
ââââââââââ
as promised, a group of fortress guards stop by your shop, politely waiting for you to close up before you join them on their return.Â
the fortress is darker than you expectedâbut not at all as small as your mind anticipated. in fact, itâs huge. you follow the guards, making idle chatter as they take you up an elevator, up, and up, and upâuntil finally, you finally arrive on the floor of his office.Â
youâre so busy taking in all you can of the fortress that by the time they escort you to his office door, you remember why youâre here in the first place. to bring wriothesley dried petals of sweet flowers that you grew yourselfâflowers often make for a wonderful tea blend, and learning his passionate liking for the drink makes you feel compelled to share with him every one of the various floral teas youâve learned about in your time as a florist.Â
you knock on the door of his officeâexcept, oddly enough, thereâs more than one voice you can make out from the room. you didnât think his meeting would still be in session by the time you arrived, making you anxiously regret the knock as soon as your knuckles leave the surface of the door. Â
but he answers before you can think too much of it. âcome in,â his voice calls.Â
âyour grace,â you hum, stepping in, âif this is a bad time, then i canâŚâ
you trail off. both fontaineâs chief justice and champion duelist stand in his office, gathered around his desk as he sits and sifts through files. of course, wriothesley is a duke, which is no small title by any means, but youâre caught more than a little off guard as you step in and share the room with two of fontaineâs more important figures in the justice system.
âno,â he says casually, âcome in, youâre right on time. i was just telling miss clorinde about the delicious tea blend you would bring for her to try. she couldnât wait a moment longer.â
âif you want to try it so badly, just say so,â she rolls her eyes.
âfine,â he huffs, lips curling into a slight pout, âiâd like to try the tea you promised me. clorinde will pass, though.â
âi think iâll try it, as well,â she chimes in, suppressing a smile as wriothesley crosses his arms.
âbut you just saidââ
you giggle, walking over as you hand him the bag with dried petals, grinning at the amusing dynamic, and murmur, âi believe it would be the polite thing to do if you made an extra cup for the madam while making yours.â
âpicking her side, are we? such an act of betrayal wonât be forgotten,â he huffs. still, almost as excited as a child opening a present, he opens the bag to add the petals to the tea maker he keeps at his desk. you watch with fondness at the action. âyou still owe me a present, by the way. and tea wonât doâiâve just received a batch.â
âthen i suppose i can gift you a new tie,â clorinde hums, eyeing the loosened tie around his neck and making him furrow his brows as he subconsciously straightens it, âsomething that fits your neck better so you look a bit more put together.â
itâs almost like she sees through the both of you, eyeing between you and him with a hint of a knowing glint in her eyes. wriothesley scowls, giving her a petulant glare.
âthereâs nothing wrong with my tie. i look just fine.â
âi do believe itâs a stylistic choice,â neuvillette pipes up from the side, âit doesnât seem to be an issue with the tie itself.â
you snort at the way the joke flies over his head. âyouâre right, monsieur,â you join in the banter, âi do believe his grace has a ratherâŚunique choice of style.â
âi wonder if he ever plans to properly wear the coat he always seems to keep hanging over his shoulders,â clorinde adds, the earlier grin she attempted to fight back now fully curled into her lips. you laugh, much to wriothesleyâs dismay.
âperhaps he just values being prepared,â you hum, âone can never tell when the fortress will suddenly be too cold. someone as busy as the duke surely canât afford the wasted time to go and fetch a coat.â
âah,â she nods, âi suppose youâre right. he is too busy learning legal codes as of late.â
âi take it that my gift has been useful, then?â neuvillette brightens, turning to a miserable wriothesley as he rubs his temples wearily.
âmost helpful,â he sighs, not bothering to explain to the iudex that heâs once more missed the point of the joke.Â
âoh, weâre only joking,â you laugh, taking the tea cup sitting at his desk and pouring him a glass of the now freshly brewed tea, âitâs all in good fun, your grace.â
âwriothesley is just fine,â he mumbles, âas you can see, this isnât a veryâŚformal meeting.âÂ
he watches as you carefully make his cup, one sugar cube as opposed to his usual twoâbefore he can point it out, however, you beat him to it. âi know youâre particular about your tea. i can see it on your face youâre about to insist i give you two, but this is a very sweet blend as it is. one will suffice.â
âcareful when it comes to his tea,â clorinde warns, âheâll be in a foul mood all day if it doesnât live up to his standards.â
ânot true,â he grumbles. as if to prove a point, he takes a sip, slowly blinking before he looks at you with an awed grin, âitâs lovely. youâre right, it is just perfectly sweet with one cube.â
âperhaps youâre the only person he wonât make a fuss with then,â clorinde teases, âheâs got quite the list of grievances if i make him a cup of tea.â
âthatâs because you donât know how to make proper tea,â wriothesley rolls his eyes, âthereâs a set of steps youâre meant to follow, you know.â
âwater is a most simple beverage,â the iudex cuts in, âone that has many complexities in flavor, as well. perhaps you should consider it as a fitting option if tea gives you too much trouble.â
âi would hate to think of the wrath the poor inmates would have to face if he were to miss a single tea time,â you grin, fighting back a chuckle as wriothesley takes a tired sip from his cup, resigning himself to his fate as the target of your banter, âwater simply wonât do.â
âwell, i believe we should be off,â clorinde looks at neuvillette, âperhaps we should leave them to themselves.â
âah, yes,â the chief justice nods politely, âthere are many more files for me to read through at the office.â
âdo you ever take the day off?â wriothesley raises a brow, âwouldnât hurt.â
âeven his dreams are of legal cases, iâm sure. he wouldnât last a day on vacation,â clorinde hums.
âi donât typically dream when i sleep,â neuvillette frowns, still so serious that you choke on a snort as you try to hold back you giggles. wriothesley looks at you with an amused grin, biting his lip to hide a chuckle himself.
âiâll be seeing you,â he waves as the two leave, âand hopefully with my present ready next time,â he calls to clorinde with a pointed look. she rolls her eyes, fondly waving as she heads out the door.
âi didnât know you were friends with such important people,â you murmur as they leave, making him raise a brow as he takes another sip.
âfriends isnât the best title for itâconsider us work acquaintances.â
âwith banter like that, i hardly believe it,â you chuckle, earning you a half-hearted glare from him over the rim of his tea cup.
âdid you have your fun at my expense?â he asks drylyâbut thereâs no real bite to the words, âit seems you got along quite well with clorinde.â
âmonsieur neuvillette is lovely too,â you giggle, âeven if heâs not exactlyâŚthe earliest to catch onto jokes.â
he laughs at that, setting down his empty cup as he stands, eyeing the door to his office quickly before stepping closer to you, eyes staring down at your lips as you chew on the bottom and wait for him to make his move.Â
âthank you for the tea,â he murmurs lowly, lips just barely a millimeter away from yours, âit was quite sweet. i enjoyed it.â
âthere are plenty of other floral blends i have for you to try,â you hum.Â
he grins, hands finding your waist before he whispers, âsurely i couldnât take all that from you without offering something in return, could i? i wouldnât want it to seem like i'm taking bribes.â
âoh?â you breathe, grabbing a hold of his tie and tugging him closer until your lips meet his in a slow, heated kiss. it awakens a sick, insatiable heat in your core almost instantly. âwhat did you have in mind, your grace?â
he groans at the way your voice teasingly lilts at the title, hungrily chasing after your lips again. itâs more tongue than it is anything, messy and almost too scandalous to take place in his office where anyone could knock and come in at a momentâs notice. he seems to know it, too, because slowly, he guides you backward, slow steps that donât interrupt the lock of your lips until your back meets a door.
âwhy donât i show you,â he breathesâand then the doorknob is twisted open, and youâre gently pushed in with an arm curled around your waist to guide you. thereâs a bedroom connected to his office, you realize.Â
not entirely a shockâyouâre sure the duke of the fortress has his own quarters to sleep in away from the other inmates, but it doesnât surprise you less enough that you donât pull away to take a glance around.Â
itâs empty, mainly. not too many things besides a few scattered files and another tea maker with a few cups surrounding it at a desk in the corner. the sheets are dark grey, plain, and neatly made, with two pillows and nothing else. it has no more than what he needs, no more than whatâs necessary. no hints of anything thatâs his, anything that makes the room belong to him outside of being a mere sleeping quarters.Â
ânot one for decor?â you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck as your fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt.
âi only come here at night to sleep,â he shrugs, ânever felt the need.â
âeveryone needs a space thatâs theirs, donât you think? even a few flowers would brighten the place up.â
âoffering me more business?â he chuckles, making you roll your eyes, âand theyâd die. there isnât much sun down here.â
âi can think of a few options that would thrive,â you murmur.
âso it is business,â he quips. sigh exasperatedly, and he grins cheekily at you before youâre gently pushed to fall onto his bed, his body moving to hover over you as your legs wrap around his waist. his cock is semi-hard through his pants, and you wiggle your hips to press against it, the friction making him groan as you feel him stiffen even more from your actions.Â
âi think iâd like my payment now,â you hum, making him raise a brow.
âeager?â he asks, making your hand travel to squeeze at his bulge.
âand you arenât?â you challenge.
âfuck,â he grunts, shuddering at the feeling, âlooks like you got me.â
it happens faster than you can processâthe shedding of clothes, the way his fingers slowly sink into you, pumping in and out expertly as your head spins from the way he brushes against your sensitive spots. heâs quick, the way he stretches you apart with his digits, adding a second and third finger with little to no time to waste. you hardly have time to accommodate the third when you feel a familiar ache building up steadily.Â
âc-close,â you say shakily, voice brokenly whispering against his mouth as he drinks up your moans, âiâm going toââ
âi know,â he hums, âshh. just let goâyouâre doing so well.âÂ
the praise shatters youâyou break at the way he sounds so in awe of you, of the way you suck his fingers into your slick cunt, so tight and wet with every clench. your back arches, and your hips roll into his hand, whimpering as his palm rolls over your sensitive clit. âgod,â you gasp, âwriothesley, please.â
âplease what?â he drawls, âyou already got what you needed.â
âplease let me feel you.â
âsuch a demanding price for some tea,â he sighs, âalright. i guess i can afford it.â
the nudge of his cock against your folds is enough to make you mewl, a sweet, whiny little cry that he groans atâevery sound you make leaves an ache shooting up his stiff cock in the form of a twitch, like your every cry calls out to him. he responds with a rough thrust of his hips, burying himself into the depths of you, so deep and so close you can practically feel his pulse alongside yours.Â
âso full,â you gasp, panting as you try to adjust to the sheer girth of him. he waits a moment, jaw clenched and teeth grit as he waits for you to nod your head and signal him to move.
âand youâre so tight,â he grunts, moaning softly against your ear as he nibbles on your earlobe, âi wouldnât mind it if you charged interest either, just so you know. iâll pay it over as many times as you want.â
âoh be quiet, would you?â you roll your eyes at his words at first, but then they roll back at the feeling of his thick, swollen tip pressing against the deep, sweet spot in the back of your walls. he lets out a breathy laugh, kissing the corner of your mouth so he doesnât muffle the precious little moan you let out.Â
âsure thing,â he hums, âi like listening to you more, anyway.â
âoh,â you gasp, âohâwriothesley!â his finger teases over your clit, making your walls quiver around him as you feel your second orgasm creep up on you. âw-waitâiâm close.â
âwhy would i wait?â he asks in amusement, âthatâs the idea.â
ât-together,â you whimper, pouting up at him through swollen lips and watery eyes, âplease. please.â
he curses, closing his eyes and inhaling shakily at the way you look so fucked out, so drunkenly hazed on pleasure from the drag of his cock along your every ridge. you ask so sweetlyâand who is he to deny such an innocent request?
âfuckâokay, sweetheart. fine by me,â he pants, rolling his hips harshly as he works himself to his own orgasm. his thumb teases your clit cruelly, fast and merciless one second, and a slow, bare featherâs touch the next. it keeps you right on the edge, a drooling mess of broken pleas as he finally approaches his own high. âclose?â
âso close,â you gasp, twitching as he buries himself deep into you again.
âme too,â his voice cracks, âc-cum with meâplease.â
hearing him plead sends you over the edge againâyour first orgasm pales in comparison to your second. you didnât even think that was possible, but the thick of his cock bullying into you is infinitely better than his nimble digits. the blunt head hits all the right spots, curves in all the right angles, and fucks you through your high expertly without even trying.Â
you both cry out each other's names like prayers, muffled strings of curses, and breathy gasps that you swallow up between slow, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. finally, when the last few twitches of his cock finish painting his release into you, he slumps on the bed beside your body, body shaking in slight tremors as he catches his breath.Â
âyou okay?â he asks through a labored voice, âdidnât hurt you?â
âiâm okay,â you breathe, smiling softly. he closes his eyes, relaxing into the mattress, pulling the covers to tuck the both of you in before he stares up at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head while he seems to be deep in thought. âwhatâre you thinking about?â you murmur.
âjust how good you got along with clorinde,â he hums quietly, almost in wonder. âsheâs not exactly the easiest to banter with so quickly.â
âwell, i guess itâs not too hard if itâs at your expense,â you tease.
âah, yes,â he sighs, pretending to woefully shake his head, âiâve been reduced to the butt of the joke one too many times today, it seems.â
he grins to himself at the sound of your quiet laughter, so soft and sweet, so perfectly filling up the quietness in the room, bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears like a symphony. you stare up at the ceiling yourself, eyeing the pipes, the dark amber metal that makes up his home. itâs quiet like that for a bitânot awkward or uneasy, almost like youâve known him for ages. almost like this is natural.
âcan i ask you something?â you murmur after some time, shifting under the covers to face him.Â
he raises a brow, looking at you curiously. âyouâre scaring me with that look. going to confess some wicked crime you want me to help you hide?â
âitâs not like that,â you huff, rolling your eyes. carefully, as if treading unknown territories (you are, in all fairness), your fingers find his bicep, running along the skin soothingly. itâs an affectionate touchâyou and wriothesley only touch each other for physical pleasure, nothing more. this is new, something youâre freshly navigating with a weak compass that points back and forth between your heart and your head, unsure whether to follow logic or emotion.Â
âwell, go ahead and ask,â he insists, âyouâve got me curious, anyway.â
âwhatâŚwhat did you serve for? when you were an inmate,â you say quietly. he tenses under your touch, muscles becoming rigid as you instantly regret the question. your fingers pull away at the same time as you start speaking, âitâs okay if you donât want to answer! i just got curious andââ
his hand catches your retreating wrist, gently pulling it closer, closer, until your hand rests on his chest. this is definitely uncharted territoryâbut his hand firmly lays over yours as he presses your palm over his bare chest.Â
âitâs fine,â he mumbles, âitâs not exactly something people in my inner circle donât know.â
âoh,â you whisper, âiâve been promoted to inner circle, huh?â
âyouâve seen me naked,â he snorts, eyeing you with a hint of amused disbelief, âyouâve sucked me off, in fact. i think thereâs a special other circle inside the circle just for you.â
âokay, no need to get allâŚâ
âall what?â he teases, waiting for you to finish.
âall uncouth about our activities!â you huff, face feeling hot as he grins.
he laughs, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you against his side so your cheek presses against a muscled pec as his warm hand traces circles into your hip. you gasp slightly at the sudden gesture but relax all too quickly, your own hand moving to rub into his chest slowly, feeling the rough scars and tracing them with your fingertips.
âi was adopted when i was young from an orphanage. when i was a bit older,â he swallows, voice quiet, seriousâso oddly vulnerable, you think youâre talking to a new version of him altogether, âi found a diary in my motherâs drawer. i didnâtâŚi didnât mean to snoop. i was just looking for some paper for my sister to color with.â
âyou had a sister?â you ask softly, looking up to see his jaw tighten slightly.Â
âi had quite a few siblings,â he admits, voice strained. âolder and younger. my parents would adopt a few children at a time and raise them until they were old enough to be adopted into families of greater means. and then theyâd adopt more younger children. i thought they were perfect parents,â his eyes stare off distantly, unfocused as they look up at the ceiling, hand mindlessly wandering along your hip as you listen.
âuntilâŚ?â
âuntil i read that diary,â his voice hardens, still strained as he clenches his jaw and swallows thickly again, âthey were records. of my older siblings, the ones i thought were adopted off. all of their names were followed by prices, and the ones who didnât have prices had been crossed off. i didnât understand until i saw my own name and my brother antoineâs. we had blank spaces next to ours.â
âhow come?â you furrow your brows, looking at him in jarred curiosity.Â
âbecause we werenât sold yet,â he smiles ruefully, âi realized we were being sold off like livestock. and i started to piece together why i had never heard from any of my siblings even when theyâd promised to write. iâŚi never knew what became of them.â
âoh, wriothesley,â you say gently, so delicate, he closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. you press a soft kiss to his chest under you, hand moving up to cup his cheek, âwhat awful people.â
âiâŚi should have kept it to myself,â he whispers shakily, âi didnâtâŚi couldnât figure out what to do, so i told antoineâi thoughtâŚi figured maybeâŚâ he trails off, eyes closed once more as he breathes heavily, trying to collect the composure he fights so fiercely to keep.
âitâs okay,â you kiss his jaw, âwe can forget about it. iâm sorry forââ
âno,â he shakes his head. âi want you to know.â
it should make you feel specialâmaybe even a little happy that he trusts you enough to want to share. but nothing about this makes you feel anything but painâyou can feel his pain, every inch of it. from the way his hand clasps around your waist in a shaky grip to ground himself to the way his jaw is tight under your lips as they press a soothing kiss to the angle of it. every part of him is in pain, and you can feel it. deep in your own bones, like a lingering ache. one that runs years deep, living in the deepest, most intimate parts of your body.
you donât mind it, though. you donât mind sharing his pain, not if itâs him.
âokay,â you nod slowly, âokay.â
he inhales sharply, taking a deep breath before he continues. âi told him because i knew we were next. i thought maybe we could have figured out a plan together. but he asked my mother about the diary, what the prices meant, and why weâd never heard from the others once theyâd left. he was gone the next morningâmy mother told us he was adopted, but i knew. i knew he was merely disposed of. and it was my fault.â
âit was not your fault,â you turn your head swiftly, looking up at him in disbelief as he scoffs and shakes his head.
âif i hadnât told him, if i handled it on my ownââ
âthen what? he would have been fine? you donât know that, what if he was sold off for something awful? or found out on his own without you? you were a child, and you didnât know that heâd choose to do that.â
âbut i still could have kept quiet,â he chuckles dryly, voice cracking as he adds, âi could have gotten us both out of there. on my own.â
âyou shouldnât have to have done it on your own,â you cup his cheek, bringing him to face you as your forehead presses against his, âyou didnât want to be on your own, did you?â
âno,â he admits, lips trembling, âi didnât.â
âand thatâs okay,â you murmur, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone, âyou didnât deserve to be alone.â
âmaybe it was for the better, though,â he sniffles.
âa lot of things are. we canât hope to predict everything for what would turn out better.â
âhe died,â wriothesley chokes, âmy brother. he died that nightâiâŚi knew he did. so i ran the next day, when my parents were busy, i snuck off and ran. i didnât come back until a few years later and iâŚâ his breath catches in his throat, glancing at you for a moment. thereâs something fleeting in his eyes. doubt, maybeâperhaps even fear.
youâre not entirely sure, but you press a kiss to his lips, soft and tender, so unlike your usual heated ones. something thatâs shared not for the sake of pleasure but for the sake of knowing youâre thereâthat he has you. youâre both here, together, just the two of you. he can feel your warmth, and you can feel his.Â
it eases the tension somewhat, making his rigid muscles relax as he pulls you closer.Â
you pull away first, murmuring a soft, âi donât care what you did. whatever it is.â
âyou say that now,â he chuckles weakly, âbut you donât even know what i did.â
âi donât care,â you say seriously, âi donât. whatever you did, it was because you didnât have a choice.â
âi killed them,â he says against your mouth, such harsh, dark words that donât belong against your soft, pure lipsâhe thinks he might have just tainted them. almost like you know his thoughts, you prove you donât care when you peck his mouth lightly. âi killed them and set the other children free.â
âyou were just a kid,â you breathe, âa baby.â
âa teenager,â he huffs a laugh hoarsely, âmaybe not that young.â
âa baby to me,â you say firmly, âno one that young should be pushed to such extreme methods.â
âyouâre oddly calm about sharing a bed with a murderer. was the sex that good?â
you roll over, laying on top of him, pulling a soft oof from his lipsâyou know itâs exaggerated. heâs strong and broad under you, capable of taking your weight and then some as his hands find your waist to keep you in place, eyes boring into yours. so bare and so easy for you to look into, to read, to see so plainly for all he is.Â
he doesnât even blinkâas if heâs offering himself to you, trusting you to see as much as you want, see as much of him as he can show you.Â
âis that all you see yourself as? a murderer?â you ask seriously.
âof course not,â he denies, breathing softly into your hands as they cradle his face, âbut itâs the part of me that matters most. that defines me the most. whether i want it to or not.â
ânot to me,â you shake your head, âand not to you either, i can tell.â
âi know why i did it,â he tells you, staring at you so intensely, you feel like maybe heâs seeing you more than youâre seeing him, âi did it for my siblings. because i knew it was the only way to get them out. no one else would do a thing. but when you strip my title as duke from me, whether you put me in the underworld or put me in the overworld, i am a murderer. that wonât change.â
âand?â you raise a brow, âdo you regret it? what you did?â
ânever,â he says instantly. he means it. âbut iâm aware of what i am to others. what they see me as. iâm not naive enough to believe my past will go away.â
âand it shouldnât,â you shake your head, âi donât think it should. i donât think murder is what matters most about youâi think a child raised like livestock, betrayed, and taken advantage of, matters most. a boy who willingly gave up his freedom so his siblings would have theirs is what matters most. a man who served his time and chose to stay so he could make things better for everyone who followed is what matters. death was a kind fate for your parents, wriothesleyâi for one, believe there were more fitting fates for them. far crueler ones than a peaceful demise.â
he chuckles at that last part, staring at you in wonder, in slight amusement, in so much awe that you almost feel shy.
ânow iâm really questioning if the sex was that goodâyouâre really rationalizing my crimes, arenât you?â
âoh, youâre such an asshole, do you know that?â you huff, âi think thatâs what defines you best. a complete, utter, shameless asshoâoh.â
he kisses youâabruptly so. his lips are pressed hard and firm against you, kissing with so much conviction, so much need, youâd think that you were disintegrating in his arms, that this was his last opportunity to kiss you and commit how you feel to memory.Â
âyou sure itâs not my stamina?â he wiggles his brows, âhow about myââ
âiâll see to it that this is the last time we ever engage in such activities if thatâs all you can focus onââ
âokay, okay,â he laughs, pouting as he pulls you down to lay on him, your head tucking under his chin as he kisses the crown of your head, âenough sex jokes. i promise.â
âso crass,â you scold, âhave some decorum, will you?â
âmy apologies, milady,â he sighs regretfully, voice exaggerated and theatrical as he adds, âi wonât allow myself to forget my manners again. from here on out, iâll make sure to discuss moreâŚgentlemanly topics for your liking.â
âyouâre a real handful,â you sigh, âpoor sigewinne. such a sweet little angel to put up with the likes of you.â
âyou met her?â he smiles fondly at the mention of her.
âbriefly, yes,â you nod, âthe poor thing must be tired of your antics.â
âiâm on my best behavior around her!â he insists, âyou can ask her.â
âi donât think sheâll vouch for you, you know.â
âyeah, youâre probably right,â he withers in defeat.
you giggle, kissing his collarbone softly before nuzzling against him as he relaxes. itâs comfortably silent, just your body against his, warmth seeping between the space that hardly separates your bodies, spreading across your skin. you share your heat, and he shares his. it lulls you, slowly but surely, and you can feel it lull him, too as his breath slowly evens out under you.Â
sleep is just a breath away from clutching you when you mumble, âwriothesley?â
âhmm?â comes his sleepy hum.
âthank you,â you whisper, yawning, âfor trusting me. enough to tell me.â
âgo to sleep,â he grunts tiredly, âyou can be sappy and sentimental in the morning.â
âokay,â you grin tiredly, pressing closer into him, âiâll hold you to it.â
sleep comes quickly after thatâso easy, so natural in his arms, you wonder how youâve rested all these years without him.Â
ââââââââââ
your routine to meet with wriothesley ebbs and flows between the surface and the fortress. sometimes, he stops by just like before, and sometimes, he sends for guards to fetch you when heâs too busy to make an appearance himself. your meetings more or less end the sameâcatching your breath together, bare bodies huddled together in a tired mess as you share quiet, whispered words into each otherâs skin. itâs a routine that both of you are too used to by now, that even a short gap of not seeing each other makes the both of you impatient for the next time youâll get to see each other.Â
on days you canât afford to see each other, your days at the shop drag by slower when all you can do is think about him. sometimes, the guards will be relieved to come to escort you, woefully expressing the awful mood the duke has been in, shuddering as they recall how unpleasant he is to be around when heâs unhappy. they seem to insist your visits are what help end his supposed awful temperamentâyour instinct is always to flush and insist they must be mistaken.
but itâs an intimate sort of developmentâthe way the two of you slowly learn to depend on each other for comfort. you on long days at the shop, him after tiresome affairs with the fortress. every delicate touch and every saccharine word you exchange slowly peels away the harsh layers of the week, leaving you raw and bare to each other.Â
itâs nice. something youâve grown a bit dependent on, in fact. a part of you would like to be scared, but wriothesley doesnât let you fear anythingâitâs just the kind of guy he is. everything about him feels too safe for you to consider being scared.Â
you miss him terribly, too. you havenât gotten a chance to see him in over a weekâitâs the first week of spring, the blooming season for a number of flowers. you have shipments from across the continentâcecilias from mondstadt, silk jades from liyue, sakura blossoms from inazuma, and padisarahs from sumeru. there are plenty moreâtoo many for you to list off the top of your head, but those are the ones youâre sure will sell out the quickest.Â
thereâs a certain man who stops by every day, a mop of ginger on his head and an interesting aura about him as he asks you if youâve received kalpalata lotuses yetâtheyâre for my sister, he tells you, i bring them home for her every time i visit sumeru. but i wonât have a chance for quite a while.
you learn heâs a harbinger, the eleventh in rank, and hardly one to step foot in his homeland for too long at a time. but heâs due back, he tells you, for a project that wonât allow him to leave for quite some time. mingling with a fatui operative is hardly on your list of possibilities for the week, but you realize even a harbinger can appreciate the beauty of flowers. so you promise him your batch's biggest blooms as soon as they are delivered.Â
and heâs patient, coming every day in hopes that theyâve been delivered, helping you organize the deliveries you do get, going as far as to join you to loch urania amidst a terrible storm to assist in picking lakelight lilies when youâre low. you appreciate the small companionship youâve formed with himâchilde, as heâs called, he tells you. a code name for his place as a harbinger that you relish in being given the knowledge of. Â
the day finally comes when the lotuses are delivered, and for all his help and kindness, you try to repay him with a free bouquet.Â
he declines persistently. âno, no miss,â he chuckles, waving his hands in dismissal as you offer the beautifully bundled flowers, âi couldnât possibly accept them free of charge.â
âoh, donât be silly,â you huff, âyouâve done plenty for me. an extra set of hands in the shop is as rare as glaze lilies blooming in midwinter!â
âi was happy to help,â he chirps, âi had a good time occupying myself as i waited to depart fontaine.â
âand archons know when the next time youâll return is,â you sigh, âwhich is why you should accept these as a parting gift.â
âa parting gift, huh?â your eyes widen at the familiar voiceâwriothesley. itâs been almost two weeks since youâve heard it, and you beam as you look over at his approaching figure.
âwriothesley!â you hum, âwhat are you doing here?â
âthought iâd come to pay a visit,â he says gruffly, eyeing childe, who grins tightly at the warden. âi wasnât banking on seeing an ex-inmate, though. what a shocking surprise.â
âthe fortressâs duke in broad daylight,â childe coos, âwhat a fascinating sight.â
itâs tenseâyou can feel the atmosphere shift all too quickly as the two men stare each other down.Â
âi didnât know childe was a prisoner at the fortress,â you murmur, making the warden scoff as he glares at the harbinger.
âwell,â childe shrugs, eyes sharp as they gaze at wriothesley, âi like to consider myself wrongly sentenced. justice isnât always fair in the courts of fontaine, it seems.â
âah, is that why you escaped from your sentence early?â
âi believe my escape proved to be quite helpful in saving the people of this nation in the end, didnât it?â he asks, voice low, almost predatory, as wriothesley grits his jaw, glancing back at you before crossing his arms.Â
âis the fatui boy giving you trouble?â he asks, making you shake your head frantically as the harbinger lets out a dry chuckle from the side.Â
âoh, no!â you insist, âno, childe has been quite helpful, i promise. heâs given quite a hand, in fact!â
âis that so?â wriothesley perches a brow, tongue poking his cheek as he glares to the side at the smug ginger.Â
âoh, absolutely,â childe nods, âyou see, iâve been offering the lovely lady my assistance as i waited on my delivery. we even visited loch urania together to pick lakelight lilies for a bouquet she needed to deliver.â
âhe treated me to lunch,â you beam innocently. you might have missed the way wriothesleyâs jaw tightens, but childe certainly doesnât, making his grin spread even wider. âheâs nice, wriothesley, i promise. i hope you both can sort out whatever differences you had during his previous sentence.â
âperhaps next time, you could join us for lunch,â childe drawls, âitâll be on me.â
âa kind offer,â the duke chuckles dryly, a rueful grin on his tight lips as he adds, âbut iâll have to decline.â
âplease, i really insist you take these lotuses,â you hold the bouquet out to the harbinger, and much to wriothesleyâs dismay, thereâs an evident amount of extra care put into the floral packaging. your careful handwriting in soft, looped letters spelling out his name across the paper, with a heart beside it as though you took time to thoughtfully scribble each letter just for him. âgive your sister my best regards.â
âyou know his sister?â wriothesley grits.
âoh no,â you chuckle, âbut he tells me of her. the flowers are for her!â
âlike i said,â childe hums, taking out a heavy pouch of mora and placing it on your counterâboth yours and wriothesleyâs eyes widen at the sheer amount of mora youâre sure is inside. itâs undoubtedly far more than a small, simple bouquet would cost, but he waves it off like itâs nothing as he says, âi insist on giving you the payment you deserve. youâve certainly made my last few days here at fontaine interesting. itâs made up for the less thanâŚwelcoming treatment from the beginning of my trip.â
wriothesleyâs eye all but twitches.Â
âthatâs far too much to accept for a small bunch of kalpalata lotuses, you canâtââ
âconsider it a payment in advance for the next time i return to fontaine,â he winks, âiâll be sure to visit for more of your lovely flowers. iâm sure my mother will appreciate a bouquet too.â
with that, he waves at you, walking off with a grin as you sigh and shake your head fondly, waving him off as you call, âyouâre quite the handful, you know. do visit again next time youâre here!â
âoh, i wouldnât miss the opportunity for anything.â
wriothesley scoffs at the final exchange of words, watching the retreating figure of the harbinger with hardened, distant eyes while you exhale softly and grab the pouch of mora.Â
âare all harbingers this loaded with mora, do you think?â
âwho knows,â he mutters, looking away as he swallows before adding, âi came to visit on my way back to the fortress. i had business with neuvillette.â
âoh,â you hum, smiling as you ask, âis he doing well?â
âfine,â is all wriothesley says.
âthatâs good,â you nod, âwe havenât been able to see each other in quite a bit, huh? iâd have visited, but the deliveries all week have kept me busy.â
âgood thing you had the harbinger to lend a hand, huh?â he remarks, raising a brow.
âwell, yeah, i suppose so,â you frown slightly, watching as he takes a slow, deep breath before fixing his tie. âis everything okay?â
âyeah,â he says instantly. âmay i walk you home?â
âof course,â you smileâit doesnât reach your eyes, and he wishes he could find it in himself to do something to reassure the lingering worry in your irises, but he doesnât. instead, he quietly waits for you to close the shop, so uncharacteristically silent that you can practically feel the tension in the air tangibly.
the walk to your home is just as silent. wriothesley doesnât say anything, and you donât have the confidence to break the silence yourself. youâve never seen him like this, so bothered and visibly so. youâre not entirely sure what brought it on, eitherâbut you are sure it has something to do with childe.Â
you finally reach your home after a long walk, quietly standing in front of the door as you turn to him and inspect his face. hard-lined lips, distant eyes, and crossed arms. he doesnât look like the usual wriothesley you knowâthe one who grins and gives you a slight bow as he says, weâve arrived at your lovely home, milady.Â
âthank you for walking me,â you murmur, looking at him carefully as he nods.
âsure,â he responds flatly, âmy pleasure.â
âyou didnât have to trouble yourself if you were tired from your meeting,â you add.
ânot tired,â he shakes his head. âit was no trouble to me.â
âare you sure?â you raise a brow, sighing as you cross your own arms, âyou donât seem too happy to be here.â
âwhat do you mean?â he shrugs lamely, avoiding your question, your gaze. you know that one look into your eyes is all it takes to make him spill, and normally, you donât take advantage of that, but you think tonight you will.Â
because youâre tired of dancing around half-truths and coded words you have to decipher. you want one straight, laid-bare conversation with him. so you reach over and tilt his jaw, making him inhale sharply at your touch as you force him to face you and look at you.Â
âwhat is up with you? and donât even think about saying nothing.â
ânothing is up with me,â he mumbles stubbornly.
âwriothesley,â you warn, looking at him unimpressed, âi was not born yesterday.â
âmy apologies,â he says sarcastically, a rueful smile curling on those chapped lips of his, âi suppose iâm just a bit shocked iâm not the only customer you offer your affections to. i suppose that was silly of meâit must be good for business.â
âexcuse me?â you recoil, staring at him in disbelief. a little hurt, tooâhe regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, flinching slightly at the implications. âhow dare you insinuate iâm a common whore?âÂ
âthatâs not what i was trying to say at all,â he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, âit came out wrong.â
âthen what were you trying to say?â you demand, looking at him expectantly, hands on your hips and a raise of your brows that almost mockingly tells him, iâd love to see you work your way out of this one.Â
âyou never told me you and the fatui boy were so close.âÂ
if thereâs one thing wriothesley is good at, itâs shifting things to focus on other people. so he can observe. watch closely. take note of all the little things so he can figure out what he wants to know without asking at all. all without having anything told to him right out. itâs how he worksâand you wonât entertain it.Â
âthe fatui boy has a name,â you point out.
âhis name is not actually childe,â he snortsâthereâs no real amusement in the action, just as sarcastic and sardonic as everything prior. âis that what you believe?â
âif youâre not going to say the problem with your words like an adult, iâm going to go inside,â you spit, âweâre both wasting time here if weâre just going to talk in circles.â
âyes, because iâm the one whoâs not admitting things,â he chuckles dryly.Â
you glare at himâbecause enough is enough, and youâre sick of taking one step forward just to stumble ten steps back. with one swift move, your hand grips his wrist firmly and yanks, pulling him to stumble into your home as the door slams behind him. youâre tired of having bystanders walk past you and listen to your pointless discussion, and youâre tired of getting nowhere the longer you stand outside. it feels like the more you talk, the less you know. every word he says confuses you more and more.
and thatâs the thing about himâhe never tells you things, not since that night he first opened up. you thought you broke some newfound trust, a new ground to walk on with him that leads somewhere further than just two people who seek each other out for pleasure. you feel something for himâand you thought he did too, but itâs always something vague or another with him and youâre tired of it. tired of wondering where you stand, what he wants, how he feels. you want to know, and tonight, even if it kills you, youâll find out.
âwhat is it you want me to admit wriothesley? huh?â you scowl, âtell me so i can tell you what you need to know so youâll finally answer my question. iâm tired of the back-and-forth game with you.â
âyou donât need to admit anything to me,â he shrugs, âitâs not my business.â
âyou donât even believe that yourself,â you scoff, âeven i can tell that much. is this about childe? you donât like me mingling with the fatui? heâs just friendly, thatâs all. and good business.â
âright,â he nods slowly, disbelievingly. you almost see redâhow dare he hint that youâre a liar.Â
âwhat do you think iâm doing then?â you challenge, âletâs hear it. fraternizing with the fatui? is that the accusation youâll pull out?â
âwell, if heâs helping you pick flowers and buying you lunch, then you certainly canât be strangers,â he smiles tightly, âperhaps next time he can join us in our canoodling too if youâd like.â
âso thatâs what it is?â you shake your head exasperatedly, âyouâre moody because youâre jealous?â
âiâm not jealous,â he narrows his eyes, âi have no reason to be.â
âiâd believe you sooner if youâd said the underwater beast really was the cause of your scars,â you scoff, pursing your lips. âwhy is it so hard for you to just speak your mind?â
âthen letâs start with you,â he retorts, hands throwing up in the air as he takes a step closer and glares daggers at you, âwhy are you dancing around what your relationship with the harbinger is?â
âthere is nothing between me and the harbinger! nothing at all, and i donât appreciate you assuming things about me. iâve only been intimate with you!â
âyou donât need to hide it,â he smiles bitterly. finally, as if the conversation has chipped away at his resolve enough that bits and pieces of his inner turmoil can show, you can see the lingering hurt in his gaze. the betrayal. the doubt and fearâall of it pools in his eyes, swimming in the many, many flecks of his eyes as you stare into them. âitâs not as though weâve committed to anything here.â
âiâm not hiding anything,â you say firmly, âyou donât have to be jealous.â
âiâm not jealous,â he shakes his head. it feels like heâs convincing himself more than you. because more than you, admitting to himself he cares is hard. all of this is hardâyou know that. the last time he dared to trust someone, to love someone, heâd lost more than he could fathom. more than he was ever ready to lose.
so you sigh, dropping your shoulders as you let the anger dissipate.
âi wouldnât blame you if you were jealous,â you say softly, extending the olive branch with a slow, hesitant hand to his cheek. he stiffens, but he doesnât pull away, âit would kill me, too, to think you were close to another woman. but the harbinger is a customer iâve become friendly with and nothing more. donât you believe me?â
he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he hesitantly leans into your palm, letting your thumb brush soothing strokes along the scar under his eye.
âi was jealous,â he admits, quiet. hoarse. strained. it takes every ounce of him to admit as much to youâthe progress makes you smile softly. âiâŚi was so jealous i couldnât think straight. and i took it out on you. iâm sorry.â
âmaybe itâs time we had a discussion,â you say softly, âaboutâŚwell, us. what it is weâre doing. itâs long overdue.â
âiâve been avoiding it,â he confesses.Â
âi know,â you murmur, smiling tightly, âi know you have. thatâs why i didnât bring it up. but we canât dance around it forever.â
âiâm no good at this,â he opens his eyes, defeated and so lost, you canât help but lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw.
âyouâre not so bad,â you hum, âgive yourself a little more credit.â
âno,â he shakes his head, âyou donât understand. iâve never been good at thisâŚat trusting people and getting close to them. i donât even have real friendsâi see clorinde and neuvillette every few months, and briefly at that. one of them was the judge at my trial, and the other knows as much about me as the files say. i donât like talking about my feelings, and i hate sharing things about myself. iâm not jealous of childe because he threatens meâeven i know youâd never give a fatui member a chance. but iâm no good for a stroll in the park, or picking flowers, or lunch at a cafe. i live underwater in a large prison that i run, and i rarely come upâat least, not often enough to be a healthy, functioning member of society, that is.â
âso what?â you frown, âi donât care. nothing is easy at firstâisnât that why we try? who says you have to share all your feelings immediately? we can work up to that slowly. this was sharing, wasnât it? what you just did? thatâs a step in the right direction.â
âand look how much we had to battle for that little bit,â he lets out a sharp, self-deprecating laugh that makes your heart ache, âyouâll grow tired of me.â
âyou donât get to decide that,â you shake your head stubbornly, âi would never grow tired of you. never you.â
âi might be a duke now, but i was a murderer in the past,â he adds, a low and cheap attempt to convince you heâs not worth it. you roll your eyes at the statement.
âiâm aware,â you say blandly, âi donât care, wriothesley. i donât. those are all excusesâif you want this, if you really want this like i do, because you care about me just like i care about you and you feel the same way, then youâd realize these are all petty excuses your head is coming up with. iâll wait for you to be better at communicating if you promise youâll try. and your past is just a small stain on the cloth that we can ignore.â
âitâs murder,â he says in disbelief.
âi said what i said,â you huff. he blinks once, then twice before letting out a breathy chuckle.
âyouâre insane.â
âthank you,â you nod, grinning, âand you being at the fortress is just a small obstacle. weâll make it work, you and me.â
âhow?â he asks, voice small and unsure.
âyou act like itâs impossible, you silly thing. iâll come see you, and youâll come see me, and we can spend nights together wherever is most convenient for the time. why are you overthinking it?â you ask like itâs obvious. maybe it isâmaybe his brain just doesnât let him see how simple of a solution it really is.
âthe fortress is no place for someone whoâs used to the surfaceââ
âenough excuses,â you scold firmly, âi wonât have any of it.â
âyou donât know what youâre getting into,â he shakes his headâyou cup his cheeks, pulling his face close as you press soft, delicate kisses along his skin. like heâs fragile. like he needs to be handled with care.Â
no one has ever handled wriothesley with care. even as a child when he was defenseless. when his parents saw a commodity to raise and sell like livestock instead of a child to love and cherish. when the streets saw a rat with dirty clothes and nimble fingers only good for theft. when he woke up in a hospital bed with cuffs to his hands, wrists shackled, and a caseworker sat a comfortable distance away, even without his gauntlets. when they saw him as nothing more than a murderer on trial as opposed to a child with no other way out. when the world showed him no mercy and left him to fend for himself in a dark, ruthless corner of the nation under the sea with no sun, no grass, no fresh air, and no hope.
no one has thought to treat wriothesley with gentleness, with kindness, with graceâas if he mattered. not until he made himself matter, taking what he wanted through a pen, paper, and meaningless title.Â
no one until you.Â
âi know exactly what iâm getting into,â you whisper, âyou know what i see? when i look at you?â
âwhat? big muscles?â he teases, voice weak. a last, feeble attempt at keeping himself guarded. itâs useless, and he knows it as well as you do. heâs already far more vulnerable than heâs comfortable with.Â
âa good man,â you say firmly, âa good man who is worth the effort. one who has a good heart and no one to share it with. someone who knows when change needs to happen and makes it happen. someone who knows a thing or two about second chances. who shows people mercy if theyâre willing to be betterâbecause thatâs all he wants. for things to be better.â
âyouâre giving me a lot more credit than i deserve, sweetheart,â he says shakily, trying to give you his usual smirk. his lips wobble, much to his dismayâyou kiss them to help him hide the tremor like the angel you are.Â
heâs not sure why the archons, celestia, or whoever is in charge of fate would send him such a perfect, pure angel in his arms. but they did. heâs certainly not one to miscount his blessingsâtheyâve been few and far between as is.Â
âno,â you murmur, whispering between kisses, âiâm not. iâm giving you as much credit as you deserve. because no one has ever told you these things about you, and itâs time someone did.â
âdoing the dirty work, huh?â
âi wish youâd stop with that,â you smile at him sadly, âi wish you would treat yourself with the same kindness you treat everyone else with. that you treat me with.â
âyouâre an angel,â he murmurs, pecking your cheek, âthatâs the difference.â
âyou canât be that bad if thatâs the case,â you grin cheekily, âwhat kind of angel picks such an awful guy?â
âone who thinks the fatui harbingers make good friends,â he snorts, âone whoâs a little on the naive side.â
âi like to think of it as seeing good in people,â you wink.Â
he laughs, arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against his chest as he kisses you. and kisses you. and kisses youâand kisses you some more until youâre forced to pull away and breathe. even then, heâs not satisfied, lips finding the sensitive skin along your collarbones, traveling up along your neck and finding your jaw, peppering soft presses of his lips until they hover over your mouth again.
âyou good?â he asks smugly, âneed a minute to catch your breath?â
âyouâre such a pain,â you huff, pressing against his mouth and closing the gap as he hums against you.Â
âwhat were you just saying about me just a few moments ago? something about a good man?â
âcome here,â you sigh exasperatedlyâand then youâre tugging him into your bedroom, stumbling and giggling as you both impatiently find the bed. you fall back, the mattress catching you along with him as he hovers over you and doesnât waste a moment to nip at your neck.
ânext time you need help with flowers in a dangerous, stormy place, you ask me,â he says lowly, breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver, âyou donât need the fatui boy.â
âokay,â you laugh, breathless as your eyes flutter shut when he nibbles on the sensitive spot over your pulse point, âyou might have to temporarily drop your duties as a duke for that, though.â
âconsider it done.â his hands tug your blouse over your head, doing quick work to toss it somewhere on the floor as he grins at the lacey red bra you have on underneath. âthis is new,â he comments, âi like this.â
âof course you do,â you grin in amusement, âso predictable.â
âhey,â he pouts, âiâm an easy guy to please. just need you, maybe a few accessoriesâŚi donât ask for much.â
âwell,â you look at him in anticipation, âare you going to stare all day? or are you going to take it off?â
his eyes darkenâhazed with lust and desperation as he quickly works the bra off of you and tosses it off to the side, too, but not before he stares at the label quickly. âchioriya boutique,â he reads, nodding, âremind me to give her my thanks. and business, too, in the future.â
âshameless,â you scoff, shaking your head.
âgrateful,â he corrects, grinning cheekily at you. you donât even get a chance to retort before his lips are around your nipple, teeth lightly grazing the pebbled nub as he sucks, making you gasp as your hands find his head, cupping the back of it as your own head throws back against the pillows.Â
âwriââ
âyou know what i see when i see you?â he hums, pulling away from one nipple and latching onto the other, tongue rolling over it slowly as his thumb finds the other, not to leave it neglected, âi see the woman i would defy the gods themselves to possess. who i would commit far worse crimes for, and serve time all over again for. one who commands my every thought. do you know how many times iâve neglected my duties just thinking about you alone? when i see you, i see the one thing thatâs finally mineâmine alone.â
you whimper as his lips reattach themselves to your breast, sucking and grazing his tongue around one nipple and pinching and toying with the other with his hand. your hands tug at his hair, pulling a soft groan from his throat as he pulls away and stares at you. youâre a panting, heaving mess alreadyâhe grins in satisfaction.
âpretty,â he hums, nuzzling his nose against your throat, right where your pulse is erratic, âso, so pretty.â
âall this flattery, and youâve yet to do something,â you rasp, just to rile him up as he lets out a deep, gruff sound of disapproval, eyeing you with a raised brow.
âoh, you want me to do something, is that it? i thought weâd take our time,â he grazes his finger along your waist, tracing the edge of your skirt before looping his finger under it, tugging slowly, âbut if you insist, i guess we can pick up the pace.â
he pulls the skirt down your legs, eyes widening as he takes in the matching red laced panties from the bra earlierâyou grin cheekily as he does. âlike this one too?â
âoh,â he chuckles, breathless, âsweetheart, you have no idea.â wriothesley is a giverâyouâre reminded of this fact as soon as his head buries between your thighs enthusiastically, kissing your clit through the lace as your breath hitches. âdid you pick this little set up just for me?â
âdonât be silly,â you tease, âi obviously got this for myself. consider yourself a lucky witness.â
âand a lucky witness i am indeed,â he nods, humming as he slowly, carefully inches the lace down your legs, admiring the way it contrasts against your sweet, supple skin. âi owe chioriya boutique my life. iâll even give my thanks to madame chiori myself.â
âplease do not,â you say in horror, making him chuckle, âthat would be utterly undignified.â
heâs not even listening, you realize. his lips attach to your clit as soon as the fabric is discarded somewhere to the side like the rest, a soft groan rumbling from his chest as soon as he tastes you, spreading your legs for better access as he glides his tongue to your folds, pressing between your folds and looking up to watch as your head throws back with a soft gasp.Â
âwriothesley,â you gasp, pulling his hair in a tight grip to ground yourself.
youâre the most gentle with him when you handle himâbut youâre also the roughest. the way you grasp him so harshly, mercilessly in your grip, makes his eyes flutter shut in a sick, twisted sort of masochism. he loves the pain, the dull throb in his skull from your pleasure.Â
âyeah, iâm right here, sweetheart,â he chuckles lowly, âfeels good?â
âyes,â you whine, âsâgoodâso good.â
âi know,â he hums, pressing soft kisses to your clit, along your inner thigh, until heâs back to your folds, hovering over them as he whispers, âi can tell just from the way youâre dripping. isnât that cute?â
you whine in embarrassment, closing your legs around him as he grins against your cunt, grinding down on his mouth until heâs back to devouring you, tongue slipping deep into you as far as he can, exploring your tight, wet hole with fervor.Â
âclose,â you whisper, voice bordering on broken, âiâm s-so closeâoh, wriothesley!â
you come undone on his tongue with one more roll of his tongue over your clit, shaking as he sloppily eats you out through your high until your whole body is a shaking, quivering mess along with your walls.Â
âgot anything else from that boutique you want to show me?â he murmurs, moving back up to hover over you, burying his face into your neck as your arms snake around his shoulders, rubbing into his back.
âmaybe,â you say vaguely, grinning, âitâs a secret. maybe if you behave, youâll find out.â
âyeah?â he chuckles, âconsider me on my best behavior, milady.â
âthen take this off,â you tug at his shirt, pouting as you add, ânot fair that iâm the only one undressed.â
âas you wish,â he agrees. you watch as he stripsâitâs not embarrassing like the first time or two when you looked away with a hot face and ears. now itâs intimate, watching him bear his soul to you, with every scar and imperfection, every flaw and tainted part.
his cock is hard, standing between his legs as it throbs, a bead of pre cum coating the tip. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close again as you feel his hardened length poke at your thigh, making you press against it and pull a groan out of him.
âi want you,â you whisper, âiâve never wanted anyone else. not like this. not like you. i donât think i ever will.â
âyou canât have met too many people then,â he teases.
âoh, i meet plenty of people. romantic ones at thatâflowers are a love language, you know.â
âand you still want me? they must all be taken.â
âtheyâre not you,â you correct, pulling him into a sweet, slow kiss, taking your time to mold your lips against him and feel him against you, ânothing close to you. no one comes close.â
the bees should come to your lips for nectar, he thinks. flowers bloom from your mouth, delicate and sweet petals that light up his world and color him every shade of love.Â
âin that case,â he whispers, pulling away from your mouth to press a soft kiss to your nose, âiâm the luckiest man in fontaine. maybe teyvat.â
âi would agree,â you wink cheekily, âarenât i such a lucky catch?â
âoh absolutely,â he laughs, amused, fond, so deeply enamored. then his lips are back on yours, and his hips are angled so that his cock teases your folds, grazing the entrance of your cunt as he coats his tip with your dripping slick.Â
you both shudder at the feeling, gasping against each otherâs mouths as you exchange hot, labored breaths.Â
âi want you,â you repeat, âplease.â
âyou have me,â he whispers, letting out a soft moan as he pushes the tip past your entrance, âas long as you want.â
âthatâll be forever,â you say breathlessly, âthink you can handle that long?â
âiâm sure iâll manage.â
finally, he pushes all the way through, buried to the hilt and stretching you apart until he splits you open on his cock. he presses so deep into you, you can feel him nudge against that sweet, spongy spot without even trying. itâs like he was made for youâlike the laws of this land declared him yours from birth and made him fit you in every way possible. the slot of his fingers with yours, the mold of his lips against you, the press of his cock into your cunt. all of it fits you so well, you wonder if youâve lived your life just to find wriothesley.Â
you both moan into each otherâs mouths, strangled sounds that you swallow from each otherâs mouths as your lips sloppily press into each other.Â
âwr-wrioâfuck,â you stammer, nails raking along his back as he rolls his hips, slamming into your deepest, most rawest parts.
âyeah, baby,â he pants, kissing the corner of your mouth, âmâright here, sweetheart.â
you sob when a rough, callused thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves perfectly in tune with the harsh thrusts that fill you so deep. deepâheâs so far into you, you wonder if you can feel him in your throat, in your lungs, and in your heart, knocking the air out of you as you breathlessly try to call his name.Â
âfaster,â you plead, clinging to him, âmoreâplease, need more.â
âthink you can take it?â he chuckles, cutting himself off with a strangled grunt when you squeeze around him particularly tightly, âi think youâre falling apart as is.â
âmore,â you whine, back arching as your hips desperately buck up to meet his in tandem, trying to feel him closer, deeper, harder.Â
âif thatâs what you want,â he humsâyou want to scoff at him, but youâre too delirious. youâd tease him for acting like he doesnât want the same, like the ache of his cock doesnât crave more friction, doesnât want to slam into you with little to no self-control outside of chasing his pleasure. you feel so good around himâso good, his head falls to your shoulder as he pants harshly into your ear, murmuring stammered praises. âs-so good, sweetheart. you always take me so good, like the pretty thing you are. how in teyvat did i score the affections of fontaineâs most radiant lady? o-only the gods could know.â
âwhy donât you ask them,â you breathe, head pressing against the pillow as your back arches and your toes curl when he slams his swollen tip against your sweet spot once more, hips rolling in perfect precision, âask them how you got so blessed.â
âmaybe iâll ask the divinity right before me,â he hums smoothly, chuckling when you mewl as his thumb rubs faster into your clit, âhow did i get so lucky?â
âbecause i need you,â you whine, ân-need youâonly you.â
âwhat a sweet answer,â he groans, pumping his cock into you faster, feeling the familiar twitch indicating heâs closeâand you are too. he can tell from the erratic squeeze of your walls. âalways spoiling me, right sweetheart?â
âwriothesley,â you cry, âi-iâm close. mâso close, please. please.â
âno need to say please, baby,â he grunts, âyou can have whatever you want. when you want it, yeah?â
and just like that, you breakâhis thumb is still rubbing those harsh circles into you swollen clit as you cum, clenching down on him through your high as your mouth parts and your head presses deeper into the pillow. heâs fucking into you, still slamming his hips into you as mercilessly as before, riding you through your orgasm as you chant his name.Â
âwriâwriothesley,â you sob.
âyeah, sweetheart? what is it?â he teasesâit doesnât last long, though. his bravado falls apart as soon as the first twitch of his cock indicates his own orgasm. you feel the hot, sticky, endless ropes of cum fill you up, coating your walls as he stiffens over you and shudders, groaning lowly as he empties himself into your sweet cunt. âf-fuck, you feel so goodâyouâre the only one. the. only. one.â
his hips thrust into you to punctuate the words, cock pushing his release deeper into you, messy and leaking down your thighs and forming a ring at the base of his length. itâs so filthy you almost think itâs a sin. but how could it be when it feels so right, so good?
finally, he slumps over your body, spent and panting as he finishes. you catch your breath under him, labored breath one after the other as your sweaty skin clings against his own.
âyouâre beautiful,â he murmurs after some time, kissing the damp skin of your neck.
âi know,â you whisper cheekily, making him chuckle as he rolls over, pulling you into his chest.
âso humble,â he snorts.
âof course,â you beam, âbut feel free to leave more compliments.â
âoh donât worry, i wonât run out any time soon.â
itâs quiet for a bit, apart from your giggles and his low chuckles. soft, peaceful, and so painfully comforting, you wonder if heaven itself wishes for a place beside wriothesley.Â
âwhen you first came up to the surface after your sentence,â you mumble after a few moments of quietness, tracing small loops into his chest as he silently hums for you to continue, âwhat was the first thing you did?â
âi got a croissant,â he answers thoughtfully, thumb rubbing circles into your hip where his hand is comfortably rested.
you blink, tilting your head to look up at him. his lips curve into a knowing grin.
âpardon?â
he laughsâitâs a beautiful thing. like a boy, eyes crinkled and lips freely curved so wide, youâd think his cheeks were endless with the way they expand to accommodate for such a large stretch. itâs the one time he doesnât seem like the rugged man you usually know. something younger, more innocent, more raw comes out when wriothesley laughs.
âthey go well with tea,â he shrugs, looking down at you, quickly stealing a peck of your nose, âandâŚâ his voice is softer as he trails off, smile faltering.
âand?â you press delicately. so delicately, youâd think you were speaking to a house of cards, one word thatâs breathed too harshly away from toppling over.
âand i wanted to visit a bakery i went to as a kid,â he murmurs quietly, voice dropping to a whisper as if heâs admitting something heâs never told anyone. something tells you he just might be. âthere was an old lady who used to feed me sometimes when i was a kid on the streets. after i ran away. sheâd give me a chocolate croissant and warm tea. i thoughtâŚi thought maybe there was a chance sheâd still âŚâ
he swallows, cutting his words off just before his voice has the chance to break. itâs a measured gesture. you know it is because you know him. just like you know the feelings of petals and thorns with your eyes closed, you know wriothesley. just like you can tell flowers apart from scent alone, you have him memorized. just like you know what every petal and its origin means, you understand him like itâs your job, too.
except you get paid to do this with something better than mora. with open-mouthed kisses and lingering touches. with coffee in a mug to complement the tea next to it. with strong arms to shield you when rain pours hard over your unsuspecting heads. with a gentle voice that learns to whisper back the language you speak better than anything else.
it says youâre the one i need the most, like rainbow roses. i miss you so much, i ache for you, like mourning flowers. iâd shed blood for you to live, like dendrobiums. youâre what i desire more than anything else, like romaritimes. each word is carefully formed, fragile as it hangs from a singular point. like petals on a stem, his words blossom from the tip of his tongue, falling one by one to your awaiting hands as your thumb traces his lips.
they all tell you one thingâwhether he says the words out loud or not, he tells you he loves you through the things he does say. every little promise, every compliment, every form of praise. they say one thingâi love you.
you have always felt loved around wriothesley. you know he loves you, even if you question it sometimes, even if you ache to hear it, youâre always reminded he does when those eyes soften as they look at you, training on you like they never want to look away.
he loves you. he loves you not. he loves you. he loves you not. he loves you.
he loves you.
he loves you.
he loves you.
it always ends with he loves you.
âwas she?â you whisper, finger tracing up his chest, along his neck and jaw until it cups his cheek tenderly. he shivers at the touch. âwas she still there?â
gentleness isnât something wriothesley is very familiar with. it raids his skin, takes over the territory thatâs only known harshness, and conquers the scarred patches that are barren and empty from all the pain and desolation.
âno,â his voice is barely audible. âher son owns it now. the croissants still taste the same, though.â
âsome things never change, i suppose,â you smile softly, leaning closer as your nose presses against his, âeven when everything else does. itâs not so bad if you hold onto what you can.â
âand what if you have nothing?â he challenges, closing his eyes when you kiss his jaw sweetly and slowly inhaling a soft breath.
âiâm sure thatâs never true,â you murmur, âthereâs always something.â
âyeah? how optimistic of you,â he chuckles.
âiâm serious,â you pout, âthereâs always a way to make do. look at cacti. they go ages without water, donât they? and did you know naku weeds can survive being struck by lightning?â
âdo you just compare everything to plants?â he asks in amusement, eyeing you with a charmed glint.
âof course,â you huff, âdonât you compare things to what you love most?â
he looks at you for a moment. really looks at you. grazes his eyes over your supple skin heâs traced so many times, over the small crinkles by your eyes permanently etched from smiling so often, over the curve of your nose and lips heâs pressed his own against, over the two eyes that stare back at him and see him more than they do look.
and then he nods.
âyeah,â he admits, âi do.â
your lips are as sweet as the warm chocolate that coated his lips and chin as a child. your touch is as soft as the hands of his mother when he thought he could trust her. your eyes are as bright as the sun when he first saw it after years of dark, rusted walls. everything about you reminds him of his past, the better parts and the worst. all of it.
some of it is healing, and some of it hurts so raw he thinks heâll bleed out. but your hands are dipped in gold, he thinks. theyâd make the most infertile soil rich and filled with life, letting him blossom new again right where his blood spilled.
heâs reminded of you in everything he sees. tea reminds him of your coffee with too much milk. paperwork reminds him of how distressed you are by wasted pages and killed trees. his gauntlets remind him of your hands so small in comparison. heâs doomed, he thinks. cursed, even.
cursed to always remember you in everything.
so, of course, he compares everything to what he loves most. because why else would you reside in his mind so endlessly, taking up the space from one end all the way to the other? why else would you remind him of you in even the mundane of things if he didnât love you so deeply, so purely, so easily, that youâre everywhere all at once, even when youâre nowhere in sight?
he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply before letting out a slow, shaky breath.
âi lied,â he admits, making you frown.
âabout?â
âabout the first thing i did when i got to the surface,â he says quietly. âi went to my parents' graves.â
âto visit them?â you raise a confused eyebrow.
âno. to make sure they were really dead.â
âoh,â is all you say, staring into his eyes as he waits for you to say something more. âwell, were they dead?â
âyes,â he snorts, closing his eyes and huffing out a small laugh. âvery much so.â
âwell, thatâs a relief,â you giggle, âotherwise, youâd have served a sentence for murder for nothing.â
âgood thing i didnât, huh?â
âgood thing you didnât,â you nod, grinning as he stares at you softly.
âiâll take you one of these days,â he hums quietly after a moment. you look surprised, eyes widening as you process the words.
âto your parents' grave?â
âto the bakery,â he rolls his eyes, letting out a breathy laugh. âi donât think my dead mother would appreciate me bringing back a woman after i killed her.â
âoh, very funny,â you scowl, glaring at him.
âyou think so?â he winks, laughing when you gently shove his face away, making his hand grab at your wrist and bite gently into the skin.
you squeal, giggling as he nibbles into your skin. âstop that, you brute!â you demand in between laughs.
itâs quiet for a moment as the laughter settles down, just you and him. him and you. silence echoing off the walls and warmth radiating between your bodies, the sheets clinging to your bare skin. you can feel his bare hip brush against yours. itâs intimateâfar more intimate than either of you are used to, but not unwelcome.
he turns, pulling you into his arms and pressing your foreheads together. you think thatâs his favorite position to be inâwhen your faces are so close, they touch. when his eyes can bore into yours. when he can feel the warmth of you tickling his skin as you breathe, as you talk, as you exist before him.
âyouâll like the croissants,â he adds quietly, thoughtfully, âthe blackberry ones are particularly nice with the lemon and mint teaââ
you cut him off. before you can think. the words fly past your lips, swept with the breeze like dandelion seeds, and carried through the room as they find shelter in every little crevice. theyâll be here, in every corner, in every little place, a memento of your first real confession.
âi love you.â
he pauses as you cut him off, blinking as he stares at you. something flashes in his eyesâfear, excitement, a small bit of shock and doubt that makes your heartache. you can read him like a book.
itâs not doubt because he thinks you lie. itâs doubt because he thinks it shouldnât be him. you know that, and youâre prepared to patiently prove him heâs wrong. little by little. day by day. one kiss at a time.
âthatâs really enthusiastic,â he shoots you a teasing grin, too easy and too practiced for your liking, âif i knew you liked croissants that muchââ
âno, wriothesley,â you say gently, like your words could rock the boat and topple you both into a dangerous, unforgiving current any moment. âi love you. i love when you tell me things you donât like sharing, and i love when you show me things that are hard to revisit. i love you. because you try, and youâre good at trying. and thatâs enough.â
âgetting sentimental on me?â he asks hoarsely, smiling tightly.
your hand cups his cheek again, pulling him in so you can kiss the corner of his mouth as you whisper, âyes.â your lips find the other side of his mouth, still at the corner as you whisper again. âbecause you deserve to hear nice things. even the cheesy ones.â
his eyes close. one moment turns to two, and you let him take his time. let him swallow as he takes a shallow breath before he opens them again and looks at you.
heâs laid bare before you. in more ways than one. being nude is easier than being seenâhe trusts you enough to let himself be both.
âyou deserve to hear nice things, too,â he admits. itâs not the same as admitting he loves you too, but itâs as close as he can getâstill difficult enough that his voice breaks. like itâs hard for him to confess something like this.
it is.
itâs hard for him to tell someone he loves them. the last time he did, he felt the sucker punch of betrayal in his guts, so young that he hardly understood what it meant to be betrayed at all. he watched the same eyes he used to think were his saviors die out as blood spilled in the living room, where his tiny feet padded across as he ran around and played. he misses them sometimes, even now.
his motherâs beautiful green eyes that greeted him in the mornings as she kissed him awake, warm and gentle on his forehead. his fatherâs deep blue ones that would look at him proudly as he grew and grew, clasping his shoulder with that firmly affectionate grip.
sometimes, he misses them, misses what he thought he had. other times, heâs glad he did it. sometimes, in the dead of night, when itâs just him, he mourns the old him. the one that didnât have blood on his hands, the him that didnât have to take two lives to set so many free. the version of him that was allowed to be a boy who existed freely, no taxes to pay for the love he so desperately wanted.
love is wicked like thatâit creeps up on you, takes pieces of you, and changes you until you can hardly recognize yourself. until you can hardly recognize everyone around you. how long has it been since heâs seen his siblings? can he even still call them that? do they remember him? would he even recognize them?
he still loves them in his own way. his precious little sisters camille and lucie, and his sweet baby his brothers alexandre and nicolasâhe came back and set them free just before it was their time. he didnât want to leave them, but he had no choice. there were ones who left before him, a time that he can hardly remember anymore. a time before him and antoine. but he recalls them being so delicate with him just as older siblings should be. did they make it out of whatever fate they were sealed to? were they disposed of with no witnesses to bring their demises to justice? he doesnât know. itâs easier not to know.
itâs easier not to love at all than to open up the risk of hurting. every person heâs ever loved has caused him pain. even the innocent siblings who did nothing wrongâall heâs ever known is pain. the pain of not having them around anymore. the pain of their quiet demise. the pain of setting them free and letting them go. the pain of never having them to himself like a proper family.
loving is so hard for him, so hard on him. so unforgiving to him. so cruel and harsh to him that he hides away behind guarded fists and loaded punches. and you know it, tooâhe knows you do because you reward his confession with the softest kiss youâve ever given him as soon as he spills the words.
âi love you,â you murmur the sweet words into his mouth between warm kisses, âi love you. i love you.â
âsay it again,â he pleads. itâs easier to let you love him than it is to love youâyou donât mind letting him be a little selfish. he deserves it, in fact.
âi love you. more than anything iâve ever loved.â
âpromise me,â he begs.
âi promise,â you say firmly. âand you donât have to say it back, not yet. but i want you to know it because you should know youâre loved.â
all at once, the vines wrapped around his chest release, one petal blooming across his heart and arteries at a time until the nectar is running through his veins.
itâs warm. itâs sunny. itâs soft. itâs so, so safe. it doesnât hurt. it never does with you. you never let it.
âi love you too,â he croaks. he shivers as he says it before heâs grinning slowly, chuckling in wonder as he lets the words sink in before he repeats again, âi love you.â
âyeah?â you beam, eyes crinkling as joy tucks itself into the crevices.
he nods. âyes. and your weird nature lectures.â
you pout, making him laugh. âheyââ
âand your annoyingly aromatic house with petals everywhereââ
âtheyâre not everywhereââ
âand that ugly dog watering can of yoursââ
âit kind of reminds me of you, soââ
âi love them all, and i want them for the rest of my life. i hope you take it easy on the snapdragons, though. i think iâm allergic.â
âsuch a romantic at heart,â you grumble, rolling your eyes. but theyâre glassy, swelling with unshed, precious little tears.
he kisses your eyelids as you close your eyes, murmuring, âiâm doing my best here. cut me some slack, iâve never dated someone before.â
âoh, wriothesley,â you sniffle, tears coating your sun-soaked skin. and despite the evidence of tears, heâs never seen joy on your face like this beforeâso clear and radiant. âwho taught you about romance? youâre hopeless.â
âhopelessly in love with you,â he shoots back smugly, wiggling his brows.
âiâm doomed,â you snort, letting out a watery chuckle.
âyeah,â he says cheekily, âyou are. i hope youâre prepared.â
you kiss him in reply. he kisses you, too. you kiss each other. flowers bloom everywhere your lips touchâwriothesley swallows every petal gratefully.
you love him. you love him not. you love him. you love him not. you love him. you love him not.
you love him.
you love him.
you love him.
it always ends with you love him.
and he loves you, too. you both love each other. the words bounce from both of your tongues like you take turns tasting them, feeling them, familiarizing yourselves with them.
it doesnât matter who whispers the words first or who murmurs them last. no matter who breaks the silence, it always ends with i love you.

ITS FINISHED. WOW. i never thought a flower shop drabble was going to turn into thisâi actually had a completely different flower shop au idea that was going to be a long fic but i just wanted to write a tiny practice round drabble to get the itch out my system before i had time to sit down for the full fic. well as you can seeâŚthe practice run kind of took a mind of its own so now we have this. LOL. i think perhaps i will also write the other idea but we will see!!! this one kind of replaced the other one in my heart as flower shop wrio lore lol đĽ¸
ANYWAY!!! i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it. idk if wrio was ooc or not or if i did his past and trauma justice but i certainly tried!! all the things about his past with the siblings and his mother's diary and the croissant at the bakery are all headcanons i carefully crafted and hold so so so dear. they are my truth!!! and they make me fall in love with him so much more deeply :( anyway! if you liked it then as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated. now if youâll excuse me, i will be doodling his name in pink glitter pen with hearts in my diary and giggling.
#coming out of a cave to rb this#I vomitted out of love sickness#this felt like 10 words ugh 10:/10#lazy reblob#~ wriothesley
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You should do a meet and greet for your UK fans frfr
ijbol this made me laugh tyđ
#m&g but itâs just girls telling me how much they love how i used to write bkg#âđ[ from anon ]ă°Ëâ#ladies in ldn who write fanfic wya#itâs like an accursed secret atp
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canât believe Iâll be moving back to London for the last time wtf someone sedate me
#final year of uni and whatever#I should live there permanently probably#jk jk but-#i have zero motivation for anything now sigh
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de-stress
#oh dear#need him in ways I cannot say rn#The ppl wonât understand#~ hiromi#âđrebloggedă°Ëâ
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#dude yamaguchi is clapped#most of seijoh too#also i love him but kenma ijboll#âđâš monologueđŹ .áâă°Ëâ
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once you and katsuki discover you're expecting, you agree to keep it to yourselves for a little while.
you can't hide forever, but you want the chance to bask in the excitement of what's to come, together, away from outside eyes prying in. and you do: there's an immediate difference in the way you touch each other, how often, with katsuki even shifting coverage for patrol just so he can cling to your side for an extra day or two. it's like a honeymoon, almost, and you take the time to enjoy it like one.
but of course he wants to tell his parents as soon as he can, though he doesn't outright admit it; as soon as you start pushing the boundary of your waistband, he finds time in his schedule to see his dadâand then mitsuki makes time for him to see her.
katsuki tells toshinori next, who becomes quite emotional at the sight of your ultrasound, which in turn makes katsuki surprisingly emotional, too. there's much that they say and even more that they don't, but it's all communicated, regardless.
and lastlyâhe has to tell his nerd-ass friends.
it happens on one of their bi-monthly outingsâthat katsuki has consecutively been skipping for a little while, for obvious reasons. and it's like the minute he sits down in his seat and orders his food and one beer, everything he'd planned to say dissolves in his head.
despite wanting to keep quiet, he's been trying to plot out his announcement to these exact shit heads since the moment you found out. it's just so personal, and even after everything, katsuki's still discovering how to share those parts of his life with others, still coming to terms with the fact that he wants to.
he'd considered doing it slowly, rather than all at once in front of all of them, but he very quickly realized how terrible of a plan that was; deku would not physically be able to contain such knowledge in his body for any period of time, kirishima is a notorious fucking gossip, and if shouto had given him some kind of shit ass, wrinkled-nose look, he would have had to howitzer him through a building.
so he just says it, because he's never really been one for subtlety.
right after everyone's received their food and started to take their first bites, denki makes a point to ask,
"how's things with your honeybun, kacchan?"
and normally he'd have a fit at the nickname, but instead he hears bun and feels his stomach flip like it does when he remembers, when silly little things remind him of what the two of you have made together, and into his food, he simply says,
"we're havin' a baby."
the expected silence falls over all of them, save for the scaping of utensils against katsuki's bowl. he's damn good at feigning nonchalance, but food is getting stuck in his throat and his heart is beating so hard that he can hear it deep in his eardrums. of course he knows, but it dawns on him again, how overrun he is with excitement.
across the table, denki takes his turn to speak again. "you're...what?"
and then the whole room is erupting into a mass of chaos, moving in pieces like a riot of unrefined children, and even though he's being hounded with a million questions and being shaken around by his shoulders and some of these assholes are cryingâkatsuki graces them all with a big, fat grin.
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12 DAYS and 20 HOURS WITHOUT YOU w/c: 5.1k - ; NAGUMO YOICHI x F!READER
âá° heâs a nuisance & you should be glad to be rid of him⌠so why does your heart ache for him so much? OR the part two in which you finally address your feelings for your hanger on ex.
ŕż ! warnings â porn WITH plot, MINORS DNI, piv, very explicit smut, unprotected sex (wrap up ppl), cunnilingus, fingering, female reader, nagumo is sexy and you will fall in love so pls keep that in mind.
/ note. i should be revising for my exams but instead i wrote this for a man who is severely underrated. itâs gonna be a nagumo fall. enjoy this anywho :P (ps. can be read as a standalone fic)!!
13 days. thatâs how long it had been since you had seen nagumo. youâd be lying if you said it wasnât eating you up inside.
after your small spat (if you could even call it that) you wrongfully assumed heâd be somewhere in your bedroom the next day when you hadnât seen him on your couch. you were just about ready to scold him for having his feet all over your satin pillowcases.
only when you trudged upstairs, your bedroom was exactly how you left it. the door ajar, a small breeze from the window. pillows not askew. your sleepy kitten lounging on the covers.
at first, you considered yourself relieved. âgood riddance,â you grumbled to yourself, falling atop the blankets and sighing, hands brushing at your pet. the chirp of the cicadas eats at your eardrums. has your home always been this quiet?
âwhatever. knowing that idiot, heâll be back in a day or two⌠now what to doâŚâ
unfortunately for you, nagumoâs unprecedented drop ins had become part of your daily routine. you donât become aware of the fact until itâs been exactly 4 days and he still hasnât shown his face. it had already struck you as odd on the second day, let alone the fourth.
âwhy do you even care?â you ask yourself, standing under the hum of a sweltering shower. why do you care that your ex hasnât come around to lounge in your home and bother you? in fact, isnât this a good thing? the first few times it happened, you were irritated beyond belief - telling the man to get lost, locking your windows and doors only for nagumo to show up despite your barrage of insults, whether thatâd be in your kitchen or on your couch or even in the shower (the image of seeing a naked nagumo after all this time was truly something, though youâd never admit it to his face, instead opting to throw a hard bar of soap at him and to which you then had to tend to his aching back after he so called âwept in pain.â) so why did he now decide to just ghost you?
âtypical,â is all you can think, drying your hair off, eyes lingering on the razor he left on top of the toilet.
day five comes around. a good day at work with a cute man asking you out renders nagumo forgettable. youâre glad your brain decides itâs high time to forget about him. day six, seven, eight, nine. itâs extremely bearable. you start to see him in your dreams on the seventh day - exactly a week since he just up and left. âthatâs normal,â you muse. you dream about people that arenât in your life all the time. heâs no different.
the night of day ten falls. youâre incredibly exhausted, and youâre regretting making plans on saturday with that somewhat attractive man who works across the street. âitâs no biggie. itâs just one day till the weekend and i can cancel.â
youâre nodding off into your dinner. the warm smell of char siu and noodles doesnât do much to keep you awake.
then you see him. dark brown eyes and a goofy smile to match. it makes you jump so hard you spill half the content of your meal down your shirt. nobodyâs there. your cat sits at the leg of your chair, licking the sodden mess off of the ground.
the gravity of the situation dawns on you. you really really miss nagumo.
á° á° á° á° á°
day eleven comes and goes and the twelfth drags, as do most fridays. that guy who asked you out the other day offers to drop you home when youâre standing outside. itâs warm out and you think a walk would be good for your head. you donât decline his offer.
the man asks about you and confirms the details of your excursion, and you politely affirm, answering all his questions and asking them back just the same. âheâs not much of a talker,â you think. youâre not used to that.
by the time youâre home, you just want to pass out. you look around your kitchen, living room - heck, even the bathroom for safe measure, just in case you-know-who decided to drop by. the sound of metal clattering has you running to your bedroom, ventricles pumped. not that you cared⌠youâd act super cool and nonchalant if when nagumo drops by again. itâs all in vain, anyway. it was just your cat jumping onto your vanity. you shoo her away. your heart falls like a crescendo from loony tunes.
who exactly were you kidding? you had long dropped the facade that your heart wasnât yearning for the idiot, and you wonder how heâs doing when you settle into bed. it would be unlike him to die in an unforeseeable accident, and he would never succumb to a death on the job. another looming realisation dawns on you.
heâs ignoring you.
you groan into your pillow. itâs not like you could really call him (you totally could, and itâs not because you noted down the digits of two of his burner phones, definitely not) without outing yourself. donât forget the phone works two ways. forget it. you have a date tomorrow.
saturday comes. you get up relatively early. (un)fortunately for you, itâs a miserable day out, contrasting the beautiful weekdays that had passed.
your date texts you in teasing and sweet fashion and the pre-typed out message that consists of grovelling, apologies and more grovelling sits at your fingertips. fuck it. you canât stay wound up over a man who probably didnât want you in the first place.
you get ready very early, and you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, all done up in a silk to do and the accessories to match. itâs been a while since youâve had a proper date. a few flings here and there, sure, but this seemed real. like a sure thing. similar to whenâŚ
!creaakkk!
your cat meowing and dropping things around in your bedroom has you standing up right, casting aside your lipgloss and running to shoo her away.
âhonestly, ponyo, youâre such a drama queen-â
the words die on your tongue at the sight before you. nagumo sits at the edge of your bed, kitten fidgeting in his arms. he looks you up and down, and then he sends you an earth shattering smile, eyes crinkled.
âhey stranger. long time no see!â
your mouth opens and closes as he gets up, and ponyo leaps up and away when he places her on the ground.
âdo you think she missed me? i think so. with the stuff you feed her, itâs inevitable-â
âare you serious?!â is all you can say, exasperated, gasping. nagumoâs eyes widen, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his head.
âdonât tell me youâre still mad at me? donât make me get down on my knees and beg because-â the man gets cut off again as you all but throw your arms around his frame, face in his shirt, a little shaky. if nagumo feels the wobble of your body, he doesnât mention it and a hand comes to rest at the small of your back.
âso can i assume that youâre not mad at me anymore?â you shake your head, and nagumo chuckles, nose pressed into your hair.
âi wasnât mad at you,â you say, muffled into his shirt.
âoh? tell me more,â and you move your face slightly so your cheek is smushed against his shirt, eyes pointed away from him. though, you can already feel the expectant smile on the corner of his lips and you want to slap him. kiss him? both.
âi was mad at myself. and i was going to apologise for what i said but you basically ghosted me⌠for almost three weeks.â
itâs quiet for a moment until the man laughs, guffaws even and it emanates through his chest. you huff and step away from him, back turned away.
âok, itâs not that funny. you can stop laughing now!â
âsorry, sorry. iâm done, i promise.â nagumo walks from behind you to step into your line of sight. âand technically, itâs only been⌠i wanna say 12 days and 20 hours.â
you deadpan. then you roll your eyes. âyou were counting?! youâre unbelievable!â and he just pouts at you. eyes wide and shiny. you donât admit to him that youâve also been doing the same. that dayâll come.
âi mean, i wouldâve come around sooner buttt! contrary to popular belief, iâm not so socially inept to not give you space. although, i was starting to think you were replacing me with that loser at that law firm. i want to say his name is hajime-â
âokay, not even close-â
âand what kind of idiot takes their woman out to a sushi bar on the first date. and he drives a toyota camri. heâs lame.â
ââŚfirst of all, iâm not his woman. how did you know i was going on a date tonight? and how do you even know what car he drives?â
ââŚletâs not sweat the details. that dress is new, right? havenât seen it before. looks beautiful on you-â
âso not only were you spying on me but you were ignoring me?!â you fist the man by the collar of his coat and you just loll your head onto his chest. âwere you always this crazy when we dated?â you hum and he laughs again. like he knows youâre addicted to the sound and how it makes your tummy ignite into something worse than flames. his hands find their way into his pocket and he shrugs.
âprobably. but you liked it.â you donât bother to contend. nagumo grabs you by the wrists, and takes a good look at you. his deep eyes follow the sliver of gold against your collarbones, all the way down to the hemming of your dress. it makes you feel hot under your heart shaped neckline.
âlike the dress. like it a lot. wouldnât waste it on some shitty sushi and cheap sake, though.â
âwell itâs not you taking me out tonight though, is it? itâsâŚâ you think for a second. you can feel the laughter blooming in his chest and you try to fight your way out of his grasp, though itâs in vain. nagumo laughs so hard that the pout on your face starts to pop into a smile and itâs infectious enough that you laugh too.
when the laughter inevitably dies down, you and the dark haired man share a look that you encompasses all the thoughts and emotions that have been swimming in your head the past long few days. heâs still holding you by the wrists, your fingers crinkling against the loose material of his shirt.
nagumo says your name, more so to himself as his tattooed hands stay wrapped from the width of your jewellery clad wrists down to your forearms.
âyouâre being awfully touchy to a woman whoâs supposed to being out on a date in a few hours,â you say, just above a whisper.
he hums at that, pulling you in further by the elbows. âi guess youâre right. you could always tell me to go away, though. wouldnât be the first time.â
you groan audibly and he shoots you another grin that climbs its way into the wrinkles of your brain. âwhat do i have to do for you to not bring that up? and donât make me get on my knees and beg-â
âdamn, that was my first choice too!â you roll your eyes. heâs still holding you. your palms are flat against his chest. âi suppose i could call it even ifâŚâ nagumo pretends to ponder for a moment. you try to shove him with as much power as you can on the man.
âif you donât just come out with it-â
âkiss me.â
the speed at which your eyebrows almost shoot into your hairline is unprecedented. you try to read his face for any sign of playful unfairness, but youâve known him long enough to read the softness of his eyes.
your hands fist at his shirt again and itâs your turn to laugh at him, head thrown back. he pouts in response.
âyouâre unbelievable,â and before he can retort, you lean up on your tip toes to do as he asked. heâs exactly how you remember, all those years ago. warm, sweet, slightly intoxicating. the sigh you release is shaky and he swallows it whole. the width of his palms immediately let go of your arms and find purchase on your waist and your hands travel all the same, resting on the planes of his face and neck.
the kiss is over before it started and you donât even get a chance to breathe before nagumo is back on you, pulling you in by the hips, tongue slipping in comfortably like youâve always been this way. and you give in, your body adapting to years old muscle memory. itâs like youâre almost a decade younger all over again, and your brain turns to mush when nagumo gropes you, grabbing all the parts he can to get impossibly closer to you.
you almost donât notice the way he throws off his coat. and the fact that heâs trying to get you onto the bed. almost.
you protest in a breathy whine, breaking apart from locking lips. âwe-i canât. my date-â
âsucks. he sucks. iâll take you wherever you want. buy you everything you want. just let me have you.â
youâre too out of it to even give a snarky answer, grabbing nagumo by the neck and pressing your lips to his own once more. he grunts, lightly pushing you both down onto the pillows.
he breaks apart from the kiss to lave more around your jaw, with one heavy hand resting on your cheek while he bruises on your neck, clavicle and the top of your breasts, all heavy and imposing. you writhe in his touch, and you canât help the fact that your thighs start to rub against each other to soothe the heat arising in your core.
as perceptive as ever, nagumo quickly notices and makes fast work of placing his leg between your own, and you canât help but breathe out a winded âyoichi.â
he groans, smirking against your collarbone. âmissed hearing you say that.â
you huff, pushing his hands down the curves of your body. âdonât push your luck, nagumo.â
he chuckles, unfazed, and smooth, deft fingers climb under the hem of your satiny dress. he hikes your dress high enough to see a flash of damp cotton panties.
he presses a digit against your clothed clit and you canât control the way your head falls against your pillows, mouth falling open as you whine out his name again.
nagumo halts all movement though, pushing himself backwards to lean further onto his knees off the bed. you practically jump up, confused and stupidly horny.
âstrip for me.â
you narrow your eyes. he shoots you a saccharine smile, and you donât bother to banter with him, getting on your haunches and pulling down a thin strap on either arm, and shimmying out of the garment. you can tell by the elated shock in nagumoâs eyes that he hadnât expected you to comply but you throw the dress in his face, and he shakes it off faster than you can adjust yourself on top of the bed covers. heâs already crowding over you, face mere centimetres away.
âsorry, you canât be the only one having your fun,â you tease, leaning up to kiss his nose and itâs his turn to not take your bait, but maybe itâs because heâs too enamoured at the sight of your naked body after all this time. a tattooed hand reaches up to grab a handful of your boob, pinching slightly at your nipple and the other makes it descent down to the hemming of your panties. his fingertips dip into the front, pushing the material to the side and he groans when he can see the way your pussy clenches over nothing.
âyouâre so pretty,â he sighs, and you watch the way he touches you, featherlight and it has you writhing, inching closer to feel more of his touch.
âpatience, baby.â nagumo throws off his shirt, and you take in the expanse of his never ending tattoos. your hand reaches up to touch the one on his stomach and he smirks, albeit warm and slightly teasing.
âgot a few new ones a couple months back,â he all but whispers and you hum.
âi like them,â you state, matter of factly and he pushes your hand away to lay on his stomach between your legs.
nagumoâs face presses into your belly, and you push a few fingers into the dense strands of his hair. he kisses you at the belly button, paving a wet path down to your moist underwear.
he noisily smooches on your panty clad clit and you wordlessly protest in embarrassment, groaning and whining while he smiles against you. though, youâre quick to stop complaining when he pushes your panties to the side and breathes you in, kissing your uncovered pubis. now youâre frantically trying to push him away instead.
âyouâre so shameless,â you fuss and nagumo doesnât say anything. he only pushes your legs further apart to accommodate him.
âcan i eat you out?â he asks and you raise a brow, face flushing. he shrugs, âi wanna hear you say it.â
you want to insult him for trying to fluster you in his own weird way but youâre also stupidly, ridiculously turned on right now that you canât be bothered to play this cat and mouse game.
your hands cover your face and you mumble ever so quietly, verbatim: âplease eat me out.â
âcanât hear you, sweetheart. come on, you canât possibly be acting all shy. my face is literally in your-â
âjust please eat me out!â you say, exasperated and incensed by the burning desire to have his mouth on you.
nagumo doesnât mess with you any further but he canât help the snicker that escapes him. youâre also ready to call him names and berate him, unfortunately being the hot head that you are, but itâs a useless act because nagumo already has your pants down your legs and strewn across the room somewhere, and heâs immediately pressing a sloppy, wet kiss on your love button.
a strangled âyoichi!â escapes from your throat and youâre already helplessly weaving between the strands of his black hair. it only goads him on further, and your head struggles to keep itself up when he thumbs at the hood of your clit, lifting it up to suck at the bundle of nerves. you become one with the plush pillows beneath you once again.
nagumoâs tongue soothes and pokes around, sucking and kissing at all the sensitive parts of your flower. he lifts one leg up higher to allow him more access, and you lock your fingers on top of his hand that grips ardently at the tender skin of your thigh. you have no time to react when you feel two fingers press into your cunt hole, and you chant his name like a mantra, gasping and almost tearful from the way he feels.
you can feel his dark brown eyes on you, and he stops tasting you to bite your inner thigh. you yelp, and he lulls over where he indented you with his teeth.
âyouâre close, right? want you to look at me when you cum,â is all he says, and you donât get to reply when heâs back sucking your pearl into his mouth, pressing his fingers against a certain spot inside you that has your legs trying to close in on themselves around his head.
âf-fuck, âichi, iâm gonna cum,â you moan, and per his request, your eyes stay on his own, and you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, the applied pressure stopping you from falling back and losing it.
âsay my name like that again,â he groans, and you donât fail to notice the way he grinds against the bed ever so slightly. âcome on, baby, youâre almost there-â
âhnngh, fuck, right there âichi, âm cumming-,â you gasp and a flash of white behind your eyes renders you temporarily paralytic, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened in an âoâ, and the grip on nagumoâs hair tightens. he keeps a firm hand on your thigh, and your heart would burst at the romantic gesture of him interlocking your fingers together at literally any other time, but he doesnât stop his assault on the spongey spot inside you until you go limp and you practically have to pry the man off of you.
nagumoâs no sadist (to you, at certain times) so he stops, pulling back and watching the way your chest heaves and the way you glisten between your upper thighs. you donât register that heâs next to you again until you feel nimble fingers touching on your lower belly. you open your eyes to look at him, and the full blown lust in his eyes makes you choke a little bit.
you grab his hand off your stomach to kiss his fingertips, and then youâre clambering on top of him, palms splayed against his decorated chest. you feel the thickness of his hard cock pressed against your wet core, and you grind against the strained material of his trousers. nagumo grunts, head falling back slightly as he immediately finds purchase on your ass.
âyouâre hard,â you assert, and he laughs a little breathlessly and it breaks off into a moan when you press down on him a little harder.
âi guess i am,â he rustles, squeezing your lower curves to push you against his stiffness. âyou should let me put it in.â
âoh? is that so?â you say, taunting the man as you slide up and down his neglected cock thatâs begging to be released from its confines.
âyeah⌠wanna fuck you, baby.â nagumoâs all heavy eyelids and suave lips as he gazes up at you, hands all touching all over you. youâre heating up from his languid touches, and youâre cursing yourself for already being so raring to go after he ate you to his heartâs content.
âokay,â is all you say, and you shimmy backwards to undo the manâs bottoms, unbuttoning his pants and helping him kick them off till heâs left in tight gray boxer briefs. your eyes find the damp patch on the front of his shorts, and you softly finger the head of his cock through the cloth. nagumo grunts, sighing your name when you waste no time pulling down his underwear to reveal him in all his glory.
âdidnât that hurt?â you wonder out loud, more to yourself if anything, and nagumo realises youâre referring to the tattoo above his pelvis, only shy of the dark trail that nests above his erection. he places a hand over your wandering one and he chuckles.
âa little. nothing i canât handle.â you make a noise of something, and you lean down to kiss him very gently and so very close to where he wants. nagumo groans, and he reaches down to pet your hair.
âanother time,â you wink, biting your lip. nagumo smiles, raising a brow and he looks like he wants to ask you what you mean but youâre ahead of the curve and youâre settling back up on his lower body, your soaked heat brushing and sliding against his cock. heâs putty after that, head in the clouds as he feels the drench of your lips rub against the hardness of his cock.
âtell me you want it,â you say, and you stop looking down to where youâre almost conjoined to meet nagumoâs eyes; his face contorted to something readable only to you. âor, you know, you could just cum like this.â
nagumo moans at that, and he sets a heavy handed grab on your ass. âdonât remember you being such a tease, baby, sh-shit.â
you croon at his words. you donât stop the ministrations of your grinding and the raven haired man beneath you barely puts out until the slick of your cunt hole catches the mushroom shaped tip of his cock.
âfuck, i want it, baby, want you to cream on me-â and you donât let him finish his vulgarity because you grab him at the base of his cock and settle yourself right on top of him, inch by inch.
nagumo hisses, and his iron grip on your hips doesnât subside until heâs all the way inside you. you both simultaneously moan in relief when heâs by the hilt, and you can practically feel him all the way in your throat.
âfucking missed this so much,â he keens, and you feel him raise his knees to accommodate to you better. you slowly get the rhythm going, grinding and gently bouncing on his dick and youâre delirious at the way his pubic hair brushes against your swollen clit, and how you can feel the slap of his weighted balls against your ass.
nagumo plants his feet on the bed, refusing to loosen his grip on you and you canât even bring yourself to care about the bruises thatâll stay depressed into your skin. you move one of his number decorated hands to grab at your chest, which he complies with and the other stabilises you against him so that he can thrust into you at a steady pace.
âso, so good,â you whine, almost falling forward by the jolt of nagumoâs body. you plant both arms on either side of his head, tits bouncing in his face, going back and forth against his open mouth that tries to catch a pebbling nipple.
taunting words leave his mouth as he watches you try to keep up. âfeel good, baby? shit. tell me how it feels, y-yeah? you like it when i fuck you like this, huh?â
you clench around him tighter. âhnnngh, so fuc-fucking good, âichi.â
you lean down on your elbows, and while he bucks up into you, his eyes donât stray, and when your lips follow the sharp lines of his jaw and press on his jugular, nagumo angles his head so you can sloppy kiss him on the mouth.
itâs like that for a few moments until he stops to throw you off of him, and youâre ready to whine and complain, but heâs already on you again, this time on top.
âgotta take my time with you,â he breathes, and he finds a new position, this time pulling your left leg over his shoulder and spreading the right one to fit around his hips.
âis that code for you were gonna cum too fast?â you giggle, and nagumo doesnât grace your playful ribbing because he slips back into you and your once teasing laughter breaks off into a deep moan of pleasure.
âdonât make fun of me,â he says, feeding his cock into you at an achingly slow rate, âhurts my feelings.â and you want to call him embarrassing and silly, you really do, but your heart is on your tongue and nagumo overcrowds every part of your senses.
nagumo leans over you, and grinds himself inside your compact walls. his face is in the crook of your neck and he teethes at the tender skin. you throw a callous hand in hand to satiate the hunger in your belly.
the unrelenting pace in which he fucks you is downright insane: all you can think about is him, all you can smell and taste is him. when you open your eyes, heâs looking down at you, holding and stretching you open, spitting not-so-sweet nothings at you. you worship him all the same, crying out his name, begging him to take you harder and faster, nails raking across the width of his back.
âyouâre s-so, hah, shit, youâre so gorgeous,â he moans, ânot gonna last, f-fuck.â
youâre almost there, teetering on the finish line, so nagumo ever so slightly adjusts his position, and he presses his cock head against that point inside you. youâre weightless in his hold, writhing when he reaches down to rub taut circles against your puffy pearl. itâs enough to make you sob, gasp and cry out a throaty ââichi!â, back arching, toes curling.
nagumo takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, bruising against the creamy flesh of your tits. his speed and movement becomes sloppy, rushing to the edge, the echoes of skin slapping against each other. your tearful face and your short winded begging (âcum inside me, yoichiâ and âwant you to fill me upâ) in the midst of your intra-climatic hue are enough to get him to empty out hot inside of you, his eyebrows furrowed and an o-shape taking over the soft shine of his mouth.
you pull yourself up by the hand on the back of his scruff to kiss him wetly, tongue and all and he takes it, moaning and cursing out your name while pushing his seed deep inside you.
itâs quiet except for mingling, heavy breaths and the creak of your bed when nagumo falls on top of you. you squeak in protest, trying to push the lug of a man off.
âget off me you big idiot!â you squeal, and you feel his body shaking while heâs closed in on you.
âyouâre nice and warm,â he sighs, âthink i could stay like this for a good, couple of hours.â
you scoff. your hand reaches up to pet at his damp hair. nagumo smiles against your clavicle.
âdo you think i still have time to go on that date?â you say, all forlorn and nagumoâs head shoots up, in which you laugh at the way his face contorts. he grumbles, and he eases out of you slowly. you hiss, but the grin on your face stays all the same.
âyou think youâre so funny,â nagumo dryly contends and you sit up, kissing him on the nose.
âwhat can i say? learnt from the best,â you reply, just to the point where only he can hear you.
you think heâs so ridiculously easy (you wonât ever tell him that) when he returns your grin, and grabs your face to kiss you, all over you cheeks and lips.
âdamn right, baby, damn right.â
EXTRA, EXTRA - read all about it:
âby the way, what did you mean when you said i owed you one?â
nagumo pulls his head from your chest, tv blaring and illuminating his puzzled, adorable expression, a piece of popcorn dangling from his mouth. his face turns blank as he ponders. then itâs like a lightbulb switches on above his head.
âoh, i fed ponyo and let her out onto the balcony but that old man saw me and i convinced him that he was seeing things so he wouldnât call the cops⌠youâre welcome!â
âyou did WHAT?!â
ŕż ! â all rights reserved Š MOOMINSUKI 2024. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
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hellooo!! i really like ur blog and i was wondering if i can request some headcanons of Gaku with a fem s/o thatâs also a fan of video games ?? pls and ty <3
sorry for the late - just saw this đ and unfortunately i donât do requests but i will write something about gaku in the future probably maybe i feel like i need to understand his character more i donât wanna mischaracterise him
#but Ty <3#âđ[ from anon ]ă°Ëâ#also head canons are just not my forteđ hate writing them i canât do then#but ur free to give ideas on what youâd like to see with characters!!#âđâš monologueđŹ .áâă°Ëâ
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Clean scans (pt. 4)
absolutely gorgeous CryChans
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Bakugou Katsuki ⤠7.02
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"oops..." ft. diluc
20 pages??? oh it was that serious ig
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12 DAYS and 20 HOURS WITHOUT YOU w/c: 5.1k - ; NAGUMO YOICHI x F!READER
âá° heâs a nuisance & you should be glad to be rid of him⌠so why does your heart ache for him so much? OR the part two in which you finally address your feelings for your hanger on ex.
ŕż ! warnings â porn WITH plot, MINORS DNI, piv, very explicit smut, unprotected sex (wrap up ppl), cunnilingus, fingering, female reader, nagumo is sexy and you will fall in love so pls keep that in mind.
/ note. i should be revising for my exams but instead i wrote this for a man who is severely underrated. itâs gonna be a nagumo fall. enjoy this anywho :P (ps. can be read as a standalone fic)!!
13 days. thatâs how long it had been since you had seen nagumo. youâd be lying if you said it wasnât eating you up inside.
after your small spat (if you could even call it that) you wrongfully assumed heâd be somewhere in your bedroom the next day when you hadnât seen him on your couch. you were just about ready to scold him for having his feet all over your satin pillowcases.
only when you trudged upstairs, your bedroom was exactly how you left it. the door ajar, a small breeze from the window. pillows not askew. your sleepy kitten lounging on the covers.
at first, you considered yourself relieved. âgood riddance,â you grumbled to yourself, falling atop the blankets and sighing, hands brushing at your pet. the chirp of the cicadas eats at your eardrums. has your home always been this quiet?
âwhatever. knowing that idiot, heâll be back in a day or two⌠now what to doâŚâ
unfortunately for you, nagumoâs unprecedented drop ins had become part of your daily routine. you donât become aware of the fact until itâs been exactly 4 days and he still hasnât shown his face. it had already struck you as odd on the second day, let alone the fourth.
âwhy do you even care?â you ask yourself, standing under the hum of a sweltering shower. why do you care that your ex hasnât come around to lounge in your home and bother you? in fact, isnât this a good thing? the first few times it happened, you were irritated beyond belief - telling the man to get lost, locking your windows and doors only for nagumo to show up despite your barrage of insults, whether thatâd be in your kitchen or on your couch or even in the shower (the image of seeing a naked nagumo after all this time was truly something, though youâd never admit it to his face, instead opting to throw a hard bar of soap at him and to which you then had to tend to his aching back after he so called âwept in pain.â) so why did he now decide to just ghost you?
âtypical,â is all you can think, drying your hair off, eyes lingering on the razor he left on top of the toilet.
day five comes around. a good day at work with a cute man asking you out renders nagumo forgettable. youâre glad your brain decides itâs high time to forget about him. day six, seven, eight, nine. itâs extremely bearable. you start to see him in your dreams on the seventh day - exactly a week since he just up and left. âthatâs normal,â you muse. you dream about people that arenât in your life all the time. heâs no different.
the night of day ten falls. youâre incredibly exhausted, and youâre regretting making plans on saturday with that somewhat attractive man who works across the street. âitâs no biggie. itâs just one day till the weekend and i can cancel.â
youâre nodding off into your dinner. the warm smell of char siu and noodles doesnât do much to keep you awake.
then you see him. dark brown eyes and a goofy smile to match. it makes you jump so hard you spill half the content of your meal down your shirt. nobodyâs there. your cat sits at the leg of your chair, licking the sodden mess off of the ground.
the gravity of the situation dawns on you. you really really miss nagumo.
á° á° á° á° á°
day eleven comes and goes and the twelfth drags, as do most fridays. that guy who asked you out the other day offers to drop you home when youâre standing outside. itâs warm out and you think a walk would be good for your head. you donât decline his offer.
the man asks about you and confirms the details of your excursion, and you politely affirm, answering all his questions and asking them back just the same. âheâs not much of a talker,â you think. youâre not used to that.
by the time youâre home, you just want to pass out. you look around your kitchen, living room - heck, even the bathroom for safe measure, just in case you-know-who decided to drop by. the sound of metal clattering has you running to your bedroom, ventricles pumped. not that you cared⌠youâd act super cool and nonchalant if when nagumo drops by again. itâs all in vain, anyway. it was just your cat jumping onto your vanity. you shoo her away. your heart falls like a crescendo from loony tunes.
who exactly were you kidding? you had long dropped the facade that your heart wasnât yearning for the idiot, and you wonder how heâs doing when you settle into bed. it would be unlike him to die in an unforeseeable accident, and he would never succumb to a death on the job. another looming realisation dawns on you.
heâs ignoring you.
you groan into your pillow. itâs not like you could really call him (you totally could, and itâs not because you noted down the digits of two of his burner phones, definitely not) without outing yourself. donât forget the phone works two ways. forget it. you have a date tomorrow.
saturday comes. you get up relatively early. (un)fortunately for you, itâs a miserable day out, contrasting the beautiful weekdays that had passed.
your date texts you in teasing and sweet fashion and the pre-typed out message that consists of grovelling, apologies and more grovelling sits at your fingertips. fuck it. you canât stay wound up over a man who probably didnât want you in the first place.
you get ready very early, and you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, all done up in a silk to do and the accessories to match. itâs been a while since youâve had a proper date. a few flings here and there, sure, but this seemed real. like a sure thing. similar to whenâŚ
!creaakkk!
your cat meowing and dropping things around in your bedroom has you standing up right, casting aside your lipgloss and running to shoo her away.
âhonestly, ponyo, youâre such a drama queen-â
the words die on your tongue at the sight before you. nagumo sits at the edge of your bed, kitten fidgeting in his arms. he looks you up and down, and then he sends you an earth shattering smile, eyes crinkled.
âhey stranger. long time no see!â
your mouth opens and closes as he gets up, and ponyo leaps up and away when he places her on the ground.
âdo you think she missed me? i think so. with the stuff you feed her, itâs inevitable-â
âare you serious?!â is all you can say, exasperated, gasping. nagumoâs eyes widen, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his head.
âdonât tell me youâre still mad at me? donât make me get down on my knees and beg because-â the man gets cut off again as you all but throw your arms around his frame, face in his shirt, a little shaky. if nagumo feels the wobble of your body, he doesnât mention it and a hand comes to rest at the small of your back.
âso can i assume that youâre not mad at me anymore?â you shake your head, and nagumo chuckles, nose pressed into your hair.
âi wasnât mad at you,â you say, muffled into his shirt.
âoh? tell me more,â and you move your face slightly so your cheek is smushed against his shirt, eyes pointed away from him. though, you can already feel the expectant smile on the corner of his lips and you want to slap him. kiss him? both.
âi was mad at myself. and i was going to apologise for what i said but you basically ghosted me⌠for almost three weeks.â
itâs quiet for a moment until the man laughs, guffaws even and it emanates through his chest. you huff and step away from him, back turned away.
âok, itâs not that funny. you can stop laughing now!â
âsorry, sorry. iâm done, i promise.â nagumo walks from behind you to step into your line of sight. âand technically, itâs only been⌠i wanna say 12 days and 20 hours.â
you deadpan. then you roll your eyes. âyou were counting?! youâre unbelievable!â and he just pouts at you. eyes wide and shiny. you donât admit to him that youâve also been doing the same. that dayâll come.
âi mean, i wouldâve come around sooner buttt! contrary to popular belief, iâm not so socially inept to not give you space. although, i was starting to think you were replacing me with that loser at that law firm. i want to say his name is hajime-â
âokay, not even close-â
âand what kind of idiot takes their woman out to a sushi bar on the first date. and he drives a toyota camri. heâs lame.â
ââŚfirst of all, iâm not his woman. how did you know i was going on a date tonight? and how do you even know what car he drives?â
ââŚletâs not sweat the details. that dress is new, right? havenât seen it before. looks beautiful on you-â
âso not only were you spying on me but you were ignoring me?!â you fist the man by the collar of his coat and you just loll your head onto his chest. âwere you always this crazy when we dated?â you hum and he laughs again. like he knows youâre addicted to the sound and how it makes your tummy ignite into something worse than flames. his hands find their way into his pocket and he shrugs.
âprobably. but you liked it.â you donât bother to contend. nagumo grabs you by the wrists, and takes a good look at you. his deep eyes follow the sliver of gold against your collarbones, all the way down to the hemming of your dress. it makes you feel hot under your heart shaped neckline.
âlike the dress. like it a lot. wouldnât waste it on some shitty sushi and cheap sake, though.â
âwell itâs not you taking me out tonight though, is it? itâsâŚâ you think for a second. you can feel the laughter blooming in his chest and you try to fight your way out of his grasp, though itâs in vain. nagumo laughs so hard that the pout on your face starts to pop into a smile and itâs infectious enough that you laugh too.
when the laughter inevitably dies down, you and the dark haired man share a look that you encompasses all the thoughts and emotions that have been swimming in your head the past long few days. heâs still holding you by the wrists, your fingers crinkling against the loose material of his shirt.
nagumo says your name, more so to himself as his tattooed hands stay wrapped from the width of your jewellery clad wrists down to your forearms.
âyouâre being awfully touchy to a woman whoâs supposed to being out on a date in a few hours,â you say, just above a whisper.
he hums at that, pulling you in further by the elbows. âi guess youâre right. you could always tell me to go away, though. wouldnât be the first time.â
you groan audibly and he shoots you another grin that climbs its way into the wrinkles of your brain. âwhat do i have to do for you to not bring that up? and donât make me get on my knees and beg-â
âdamn, that was my first choice too!â you roll your eyes. heâs still holding you. your palms are flat against his chest. âi suppose i could call it even ifâŚâ nagumo pretends to ponder for a moment. you try to shove him with as much power as you can on the man.
âif you donât just come out with it-â
âkiss me.â
the speed at which your eyebrows almost shoot into your hairline is unprecedented. you try to read his face for any sign of playful unfairness, but youâve known him long enough to read the softness of his eyes.
your hands fist at his shirt again and itâs your turn to laugh at him, head thrown back. he pouts in response.
âyouâre unbelievable,â and before he can retort, you lean up on your tip toes to do as he asked. heâs exactly how you remember, all those years ago. warm, sweet, slightly intoxicating. the sigh you release is shaky and he swallows it whole. the width of his palms immediately let go of your arms and find purchase on your waist and your hands travel all the same, resting on the planes of his face and neck.
the kiss is over before it started and you donât even get a chance to breathe before nagumo is back on you, pulling you in by the hips, tongue slipping in comfortably like youâve always been this way. and you give in, your body adapting to years old muscle memory. itâs like youâre almost a decade younger all over again, and your brain turns to mush when nagumo gropes you, grabbing all the parts he can to get impossibly closer to you.
you almost donât notice the way he throws off his coat. and the fact that heâs trying to get you onto the bed. almost.
you protest in a breathy whine, breaking apart from locking lips. âwe-i canât. my date-â
âsucks. he sucks. iâll take you wherever you want. buy you everything you want. just let me have you.â
youâre too out of it to even give a snarky answer, grabbing nagumo by the neck and pressing your lips to his own once more. he grunts, lightly pushing you both down onto the pillows.
he breaks apart from the kiss to lave more around your jaw, with one heavy hand resting on your cheek while he bruises on your neck, clavicle and the top of your breasts, all heavy and imposing. you writhe in his touch, and you canât help the fact that your thighs start to rub against each other to soothe the heat arising in your core.
as perceptive as ever, nagumo quickly notices and makes fast work of placing his leg between your own, and you canât help but breathe out a winded âyoichi.â
he groans, smirking against your collarbone. âmissed hearing you say that.â
you huff, pushing his hands down the curves of your body. âdonât push your luck, nagumo.â
he chuckles, unfazed, and smooth, deft fingers climb under the hem of your satiny dress. he hikes your dress high enough to see a flash of damp cotton panties.
he presses a digit against your clothed clit and you canât control the way your head falls against your pillows, mouth falling open as you whine out his name again.
nagumo halts all movement though, pushing himself backwards to lean further onto his knees off the bed. you practically jump up, confused and stupidly horny.
âstrip for me.â
you narrow your eyes. he shoots you a saccharine smile, and you donât bother to banter with him, getting on your haunches and pulling down a thin strap on either arm, and shimmying out of the garment. you can tell by the elated shock in nagumoâs eyes that he hadnât expected you to comply but you throw the dress in his face, and he shakes it off faster than you can adjust yourself on top of the bed covers. heâs already crowding over you, face mere centimetres away.
âsorry, you canât be the only one having your fun,â you tease, leaning up to kiss his nose and itâs his turn to not take your bait, but maybe itâs because heâs too enamoured at the sight of your naked body after all this time. a tattooed hand reaches up to grab a handful of your boob, pinching slightly at your nipple and the other makes it descent down to the hemming of your panties. his fingertips dip into the front, pushing the material to the side and he groans when he can see the way your pussy clenches over nothing.
âyouâre so pretty,â he sighs, and you watch the way he touches you, featherlight and it has you writhing, inching closer to feel more of his touch.
âpatience, baby.â nagumo throws off his shirt, and you take in the expanse of his never ending tattoos. your hand reaches up to touch the one on his stomach and he smirks, albeit warm and slightly teasing.
âgot a few new ones a couple months back,â he all but whispers and you hum.
âi like them,â you state, matter of factly and he pushes your hand away to lay on his stomach between your legs.
nagumoâs face presses into your belly, and you push a few fingers into the dense strands of his hair. he kisses you at the belly button, paving a wet path down to your moist underwear.
he noisily smooches on your panty clad clit and you wordlessly protest in embarrassment, groaning and whining while he smiles against you. though, youâre quick to stop complaining when he pushes your panties to the side and breathes you in, kissing your uncovered pubis. now youâre frantically trying to push him away instead.
âyouâre so shameless,â you fuss and nagumo doesnât say anything. he only pushes your legs further apart to accommodate him.
âcan i eat you out?â he asks and you raise a brow, face flushing. he shrugs, âi wanna hear you say it.â
you want to insult him for trying to fluster you in his own weird way but youâre also stupidly, ridiculously turned on right now that you canât be bothered to play this cat and mouse game.
your hands cover your face and you mumble ever so quietly, verbatim: âplease eat me out.â
âcanât hear you, sweetheart. come on, you canât possibly be acting all shy. my face is literally in your-â
âjust please eat me out!â you say, exasperated and incensed by the burning desire to have his mouth on you.
nagumo doesnât mess with you any further but he canât help the snicker that escapes him. youâre also ready to call him names and berate him, unfortunately being the hot head that you are, but itâs a useless act because nagumo already has your pants down your legs and strewn across the room somewhere, and heâs immediately pressing a sloppy, wet kiss on your love button.
a strangled âyoichi!â escapes from your throat and youâre already helplessly weaving between the strands of his black hair. it only goads him on further, and your head struggles to keep itself up when he thumbs at the hood of your clit, lifting it up to suck at the bundle of nerves. you become one with the plush pillows beneath you once again.
nagumoâs tongue soothes and pokes around, sucking and kissing at all the sensitive parts of your flower. he lifts one leg up higher to allow him more access, and you lock your fingers on top of his hand that grips ardently at the tender skin of your thigh. you have no time to react when you feel two fingers press into your cunt hole, and you chant his name like a mantra, gasping and almost tearful from the way he feels.
you can feel his dark brown eyes on you, and he stops tasting you to bite your inner thigh. you yelp, and he lulls over where he indented you with his teeth.
âyouâre close, right? want you to look at me when you cum,â is all he says, and you donât get to reply when heâs back sucking your pearl into his mouth, pressing his fingers against a certain spot inside you that has your legs trying to close in on themselves around his head.
âf-fuck, âichi, iâm gonna cum,â you moan, and per his request, your eyes stay on his own, and you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, the applied pressure stopping you from falling back and losing it.
âsay my name like that again,â he groans, and you donât fail to notice the way he grinds against the bed ever so slightly. âcome on, baby, youâre almost there-â
âhnngh, fuck, right there âichi, âm cumming-,â you gasp and a flash of white behind your eyes renders you temporarily paralytic, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened in an âoâ, and the grip on nagumoâs hair tightens. he keeps a firm hand on your thigh, and your heart would burst at the romantic gesture of him interlocking your fingers together at literally any other time, but he doesnât stop his assault on the spongey spot inside you until you go limp and you practically have to pry the man off of you.
nagumoâs no sadist (to you, at certain times) so he stops, pulling back and watching the way your chest heaves and the way you glisten between your upper thighs. you donât register that heâs next to you again until you feel nimble fingers touching on your lower belly. you open your eyes to look at him, and the full blown lust in his eyes makes you choke a little bit.
you grab his hand off your stomach to kiss his fingertips, and then youâre clambering on top of him, palms splayed against his decorated chest. you feel the thickness of his hard cock pressed against your wet core, and you grind against the strained material of his trousers. nagumo grunts, head falling back slightly as he immediately finds purchase on your ass.
âyouâre hard,â you assert, and he laughs a little breathlessly and it breaks off into a moan when you press down on him a little harder.
âi guess i am,â he rustles, squeezing your lower curves to push you against his stiffness. âyou should let me put it in.â
âoh? is that so?â you say, taunting the man as you slide up and down his neglected cock thatâs begging to be released from its confines.
âyeah⌠wanna fuck you, baby.â nagumoâs all heavy eyelids and suave lips as he gazes up at you, hands all touching all over you. youâre heating up from his languid touches, and youâre cursing yourself for already being so raring to go after he ate you to his heartâs content.
âokay,â is all you say, and you shimmy backwards to undo the manâs bottoms, unbuttoning his pants and helping him kick them off till heâs left in tight gray boxer briefs. your eyes find the damp patch on the front of his shorts, and you softly finger the head of his cock through the cloth. nagumo grunts, sighing your name when you waste no time pulling down his underwear to reveal him in all his glory.
âdidnât that hurt?â you wonder out loud, more to yourself if anything, and nagumo realises youâre referring to the tattoo above his pelvis, only shy of the dark trail that nests above his erection. he places a hand over your wandering one and he chuckles.
âa little. nothing i canât handle.â you make a noise of something, and you lean down to kiss him very gently and so very close to where he wants. nagumo groans, and he reaches down to pet your hair.
âanother time,â you wink, biting your lip. nagumo smiles, raising a brow and he looks like he wants to ask you what you mean but youâre ahead of the curve and youâre settling back up on his lower body, your soaked heat brushing and sliding against his cock. heâs putty after that, head in the clouds as he feels the drench of your lips rub against the hardness of his cock.
âtell me you want it,â you say, and you stop looking down to where youâre almost conjoined to meet nagumoâs eyes; his face contorted to something readable only to you. âor, you know, you could just cum like this.â
nagumo moans at that, and he sets a heavy handed grab on your ass. âdonât remember you being such a tease, baby, sh-shit.â
you croon at his words. you donât stop the ministrations of your grinding and the raven haired man beneath you barely puts out until the slick of your cunt hole catches the mushroom shaped tip of his cock.
âfuck, i want it, baby, want you to cream on me-â and you donât let him finish his vulgarity because you grab him at the base of his cock and settle yourself right on top of him, inch by inch.
nagumo hisses, and his iron grip on your hips doesnât subside until heâs all the way inside you. you both simultaneously moan in relief when heâs by the hilt, and you can practically feel him all the way in your throat.
âfucking missed this so much,â he keens, and you feel him raise his knees to accommodate to you better. you slowly get the rhythm going, grinding and gently bouncing on his dick and youâre delirious at the way his pubic hair brushes against your swollen clit, and how you can feel the slap of his weighted balls against your ass.
nagumo plants his feet on the bed, refusing to loosen his grip on you and you canât even bring yourself to care about the bruises thatâll stay depressed into your skin. you move one of his number decorated hands to grab at your chest, which he complies with and the other stabilises you against him so that he can thrust into you at a steady pace.
âso, so good,â you whine, almost falling forward by the jolt of nagumoâs body. you plant both arms on either side of his head, tits bouncing in his face, going back and forth against his open mouth that tries to catch a pebbling nipple.
taunting words leave his mouth as he watches you try to keep up. âfeel good, baby? shit. tell me how it feels, y-yeah? you like it when i fuck you like this, huh?â
you clench around him tighter. âhnnngh, so fuc-fucking good, âichi.â
you lean down on your elbows, and while he bucks up into you, his eyes donât stray, and when your lips follow the sharp lines of his jaw and press on his jugular, nagumo angles his head so you can sloppy kiss him on the mouth.
itâs like that for a few moments until he stops to throw you off of him, and youâre ready to whine and complain, but heâs already on you again, this time on top.
âgotta take my time with you,â he breathes, and he finds a new position, this time pulling your left leg over his shoulder and spreading the right one to fit around his hips.
âis that code for you were gonna cum too fast?â you giggle, and nagumo doesnât grace your playful ribbing because he slips back into you and your once teasing laughter breaks off into a deep moan of pleasure.
âdonât make fun of me,â he says, feeding his cock into you at an achingly slow rate, âhurts my feelings.â and you want to call him embarrassing and silly, you really do, but your heart is on your tongue and nagumo overcrowds every part of your senses.
nagumo leans over you, and grinds himself inside your compact walls. his face is in the crook of your neck and he teethes at the tender skin. you throw a callous hand in hand to satiate the hunger in your belly.
the unrelenting pace in which he fucks you is downright insane: all you can think about is him, all you can smell and taste is him. when you open your eyes, heâs looking down at you, holding and stretching you open, spitting not-so-sweet nothings at you. you worship him all the same, crying out his name, begging him to take you harder and faster, nails raking across the width of his back.
âyouâre s-so, hah, shit, youâre so gorgeous,â he moans, ânot gonna last, f-fuck.â
youâre almost there, teetering on the finish line, so nagumo ever so slightly adjusts his position, and he presses his cock head against that point inside you. youâre weightless in his hold, writhing when he reaches down to rub taut circles against your puffy pearl. itâs enough to make you sob, gasp and cry out a throaty ââichi!â, back arching, toes curling.
nagumo takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, bruising against the creamy flesh of your tits. his speed and movement becomes sloppy, rushing to the edge, the echoes of skin slapping against each other. your tearful face and your short winded begging (âcum inside me, yoichiâ and âwant you to fill me upâ) in the midst of your intra-climatic hue are enough to get him to empty out hot inside of you, his eyebrows furrowed and an o-shape taking over the soft shine of his mouth.
you pull yourself up by the hand on the back of his scruff to kiss him wetly, tongue and all and he takes it, moaning and cursing out your name while pushing his seed deep inside you.
itâs quiet except for mingling, heavy breaths and the creak of your bed when nagumo falls on top of you. you squeak in protest, trying to push the lug of a man off.
âget off me you big idiot!â you squeal, and you feel his body shaking while heâs closed in on you.
âyouâre nice and warm,â he sighs, âthink i could stay like this for a good, couple of hours.â
you scoff. your hand reaches up to pet at his damp hair. nagumo smiles against your clavicle.
âdo you think i still have time to go on that date?â you say, all forlorn and nagumoâs head shoots up, in which you laugh at the way his face contorts. he grumbles, and he eases out of you slowly. you hiss, but the grin on your face stays all the same.
âyou think youâre so funny,â nagumo dryly contends and you sit up, kissing him on the nose.
âwhat can i say? learnt from the best,â you reply, just to the point where only he can hear you.
you think heâs so ridiculously easy (you wonât ever tell him that) when he returns your grin, and grabs your face to kiss you, all over you cheeks and lips.
âdamn right, baby, damn right.â
EXTRA, EXTRA - read all about it:
âby the way, what did you mean when you said i owed you one?â
nagumo pulls his head from your chest, tv blaring and illuminating his puzzled, adorable expression, a piece of popcorn dangling from his mouth. his face turns blank as he ponders. then itâs like a lightbulb switches on above his head.
âoh, i fed ponyo and let her out onto the balcony but that old man saw me and i convinced him that he was seeing things so he wouldnât call the cops⌠youâre welcome!â
âyou did WHAT?!â
ŕż ! â all rights reserved Š MOOMINSUKI 2024. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
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âá° NAGUMO YOICHI ; â 18:04. heartbreaks are best served raw. cold. wet.
ŕż ! warnings - bruh none except juicy angst. exes to ?friends /. note i have been having nagumo brain rot and itâs taking over my life. pls help. pls enjoy. ofc there will be more. no proofreads ok byeee
âyou still owe me, by the way.â
sighing, you throw your keys into the straw woven coaster on top of your shoe rack. of course he was strewn all over your couch, bare feet on your cushions, head resting on the arm rest, tv flashing in jest.
you roll your eyes. âsometimes, i have half a mind to tell my elderly neighbour that no, theyâre not just seeing things when they keep telling me a big, lanky idiot keeps breaking into my home after i leave.â
nagumo gasps, hand grasping his chest through his loose shirt. âidiot? words hurt, yâknow.â
you kick off your shoes, jacket and blazer - in that exact order - before wandering off into the kitchen, ignoring the dramatic cries emanating from your living room.
itâs not uncommon for nagumo to just show up in your house, uninvited, eating all your food and making a mess of all your things. you remember the first time it happened, almost a year ago. he had stumbled into your bedroom window, all bloodied and bruised and your reaction time was terrible to say the least, because while you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, his figure stepped into your peripheral and you threw the phone square at his already bruised jaw.
in apology, you had tidied him up and made him dinner⌠though now you wish you hadnât shown him mercy back then, because he just kept. showing. up. you suppose heâs not just to blame. youâre ignoring the fact that you both hadnât seen each other in over 7 years (after your messy exit of the JAA and an even more messy breakup) and now that heâs back in your life (back used in negative fashion) you just canât seem to get rid of the him.
nor do you have the heart to tell him to get lost.
nagumo ceases his whining, yelling after you. âby the way, whatâs for dinner? i saw some chicken in your fridge soâŚâ
your eye twitches. ââŚso what?â
âsoâŚi was thinking you might want to use that⌠to make dinner.â
you make a loud noise in disbelief, practically throwing the fridge door off of its hinges, âiâm not making you dinner?! gramps next door said he saw you come in 4 hours ago! and you didnât think to come in and make dinner?!â
itâs quiet for a moment, but you hear the rustling of clothes and the movement of feet, so you turn to lean against the kitchen counter expectantly. the dark haired man peers his head round the corner, sheepish.
ây/n? are you mad at me?â
âno. i just think youâre stupid. oh, and i pretty sure you live to bother me.â
dark puppy eyes bore into yours as he steps into the vicinity. âthe first partâs not true in the slightest but the second is pretty much on the nose. though, iâm not bothering you. you like that iâm here.â
âwhatâs this now?â
nagumo steps closer into your personal space, tattooed arms on either side of you as you look up and away from him.
â47 times. thatâs how many times iâve shown up here. in typical y/n fashion, youâll complain and act like youâre annoyed, but i donât think youâve ever told me to go away.â nagumo ponders for a moment, finger on his chin. ânow that i think about it, you havenât. not once.â
youâre speechless. youâre not sure what to say and when you open your mouth, nothing wants to come out. truthfully, the man has read you like an open book, flicking through the pages languidly, hands bruising the spine. heâs smiling like itâs the truest thing heâs ever said - the only thing heâs been right about when it comes to how you feel.
pride is a very funny thing. if things were different, youâd grab his face and kiss him till he would shut up - well, thatâs what you used to do⌠before, you know⌠you know. but this is humiliating, at least to you. even after all this time⌠youâve let it get too far.
you huff, pushing his arm from beside you and you stand by a miscellaneous cupboard, turned away from nagumo, arms wrapped around yourself. âwell, for starters, youâre wrong. forgive me for trying to be a good friend and helping someone out.â
âsomeone? thatâs a little harsh, isnât it?â the playful lilt stays lingering in his tone and it makes your heart simmer.
â⌠i think you should go, nagumo.â
silence sits between the two of you. nagumo looks at the back of your head. he sighs.
âif thatâs what you want. see you around, y/n.â
he exits, quiet as never. heâs never quiet or silent when he lumbers around your home, sweeping and lingering. heâs probably already left your home in similar fashion. the fact makes you grab your own face and groan.
you donât think you can be normal about him. maybe itâs for the best.
ŕż ! â all rights reserved Š MOOMINSUKI 2024. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
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morning sex with diluc <3333
âš â§âË á° synopsis. your husband diluc finds himself craving your warmth first thing in the morning // ę°á˘â¸â¸â¸â¸á˘ęą ⥠cw. very passionate & needy diluc, he's your husband, he calls you wife <3, fem! reader âĄ

no precise way of gestures, no fluctuation, instead the way diluc touched you first thing in the morning was a little clumsy, yet it conceded a special sentimentâ with a tender light of love in his sleepy eyes, hanging with pieces of lust.
"p-patience, doll, you're so soft," he whispers into the back of your neck as one heavy arm drapes around your waist, keeping your plush ass pressed behind his pulsing erection.
pricelessly enough, telling you to be patient while he had to use every single fiber in his being to hold himself back of climaxing right away, made the master of the dawn winery out to be a teeny tiny amount of hypocritical, but in the nicest, most vulnerable way possible.
he worships you dearly, loving the raw soul of you and loving the ever deepening lust on your changing face as he lines himself up with your entrance, yet not before lazily slipping his length in and out your folds for a couple of times, drawing a soft moan out of you.
you laugh airily, "y-you don't seem patient either," and the flustered tone in your voice had been awfully noticeable.
clearly perceptible, when you called him "husband" right after finishing your welcoming sentence, diluc swore he could've released right about this moment, prodding at your hole before slowly bucking himself inside.
well, he's your husband, yet hearing you say it set his loins on fire, not only that but it made his heart beat faster, stronger and more erratic and archons, he was so grateful, nudging his nose into the space between your neck and ear as he leaves a trail of wet kisses on the skin before silently grinding into your warmth.
he murmurs nothing but sweetness into your flesh, and brands you with his lively trace until your breath hitches when he found the perfect tempo for you both. tense with anticipation, you whine and lean back to feel his arm gloss over your warm breasts as he repeatedly slips into your hole, adding more inches and parting your pussy wider as you took him, all of him.Â
"I love you... my wife," he gasps, pushing further until his face turns licorice red, immediately after letting his muscles relax against your body.
you squeeze your eyes shut and held in a heavenly whimper, your voice reduced to a sleepy, soft whine and a crumbling moan as you find home in his hold, feeling him greatly bulge and thicken inside your walls.
diluc holds you close to his chest and although he treasured seeing your face switch into a hazy expression whenever he made love to you, he found this position to be very intimate as well.
you whimper as your hole was filled with his warmth and his thick shaft roaming freely inside your drenched walls, clenching at his cock throbbing with each raw drag of his hips. "diluc, baby," you whisper out, your limbs shaking, "i love you too, so much."

Š2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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