If you read a story that has dark topics like incest/rape/whatever else, and you draw the conclusion that it makes it okay irl, then congratulations, you are not normal! There is something wrong with you!
A normal, regulated adult human being is 100% able to tell the difference and understand complexity (no matter how the story is written, by the way). You are simply dysregulated and have the nerve to project your problems onto everyone and try to pretend like your immaturity and inability to understand anything beyond two-dimensional, 'safe' fiction is the status quo.
A story wherein the character(s) take joy in their dark topics, or where it isn't explicitly called out as bad, doesn't make the statement that it's okay irl, either by the way.
Are we really that fucking stupid as a species now that we need the big 'JUST SO YOU KNOW THIS IS NOT OKAY IRL DON'T DO THIS THIS IS BAD BAD BAD' sign on every piece of fiction and media that presents even just an OUNCE of challenging content? Are we so dumb and brainrotten that our morality can apparently flip on a dime just because a damn STORY didn't have a 'just so you know this is bad' disclaimer?? It truly seems so. What a bleak future this paints.
This doesn't mean that you have to like dark fiction. You can dislike it, you can find it uncomfortable or icky, but that doesn't give you the right to open your mouth and proclaim false information and go on a moral crusade just because you're a little uncomfy. Hey man, just don't interact with it. It is very easy.
"This is the most unusual way to have to wake you up, sweetheart... but... back in those dreams... it did work, didn't it?"
Henry watched your sleeping form on his bed, in his home, the ticks of his clock announcing that you should have already woken up. But you were one sleepyhead, weren't you? Had you become used to sleeping through it? The idea made Henry's lips arch into a soft smile as he undid his waistcoat, leaving only his shirt on, hat and suit jacket already gone. He removed his glasses, then his hand reached down to feel across your thigh, sighing deeply. Even though all was the Mind Flayer's doing, this one activity in particular was one he undeniably enjoyed himself. It was the goal the Mind Flayer had set, but the means had been his to decide.
"I am starting to believe you enjoy it when I make you feel good in your sleep, sweetheart. What a sleepyhead you are..."
Henry took his time.
He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, carefully rolling them up to his elbows and making sure they were secured before he crawled into position between your legs, both hands on your thighs, helping himself closer, until his crotch was nearly against yours. That would be quite an endeavour, but no. He would wake you up with his mouth, but first, he couldn't miss the opportunity, so he leaned down and pecked your lips once, smiling against them, glad he had already left his glasses aside.
"I hope you will forgive me again, sweetheart..."
He murmured as he left your lips, kissing down across your neck to your shoulders, one hand reaching up and snaking under the back of your head, holding it while he leaned in to nip at the sensitive skin.
"It is wonderful, sweetheart... How I can never seem to get tired of this..." Henry lingered over your shoulder, brushing his nose against the skin, then stopping to suckle a spot, releasing it with a pop before he could truly mark it. "No... it would be a shame to mark you now... Look how... perfect everything about you is. Oh, my little sleepyhead."
Henry would have kissed every inch of your body like this, but you had your chest covered in the pyjamas he had dressed you in before, when he first brought you here. Then his clock began to strike, and he knew he should wake you, having already pulled your trousers off, knowing this was the best method to ensure you'd wake up and be pleased, with the least amount of possible suspicions.
He moved down, bent forward as he scooted back, on his knees with his face down between your legs. Henry lifted up your shirt for a moment, kissed your stomach reverently, working his way to your right side and nuzzling it, then to your left and repeating the gesture before kissing down to your mound.
"I will be going easy, hm? I want to give you a nice wake-up, sleepyhead..."
Henry cooed over your mound, tongue pressing flat against your slit once, lapping up a long line and savouring the taste, hands holding down onto your sides. One lick was enough for you to squirm a little in your sleep and for him to let a pleased sound leave his lips, a sweet mix between a grunt and a chuckle.
"So sensitive... and eager, sweetheart. Just like I knew you would be..."
Henry kneaded your sides in his palms as he gave your clit a few kitten licks, enough to cause you to stir again.
"Shh, shh... I know, I know... I am rushing, aren't I? I am sorry, sweetheart. Here, I will go slower..."
He began to place pecks across your cunt, from your clit down to the lips, before taking each of them and giving them a soft suck for a few moments, then leaning to your thighs and nipping them. He was slow, his dexterity having improved, having done this before in your dreams and now in his home.
First the right lip, taking it between his own, tongue tracing at its inner side, working way down and up to your clit before swapping to the other. One hand had left your side, coming down to use his index and middle finger to part them for him once he was done worshipping each side so he could lap better at the slit.
"You taste incredible..." He chuckled, "I am quite glad you are such a sleepyhead... the longer I get to taste you, the better."
His grunt as he moved to work on your clit earned him a few needier jerks of your hips and a soft moan as you threatened to toss a little. Henry smirked, mouth latching onto the clit, tongue pleasuring it as his eyes fell closed so he could fully focus on the taste. Until his own mind seemed to fall blank, an empty slate guided by the urge to keep eating you out.
Your body reacted, the squirming more urgent, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you.
He could've spoken, soothed you into relaxing- but he couldn't make himself leave your cunt when it tasted too good. Far too good. So he kept going past the squirming and arching and wincing until you came undone against his mouth.
He lapped it like an eager parched puppy, before he pushed himself to rest on his knees, watching your eyes slowly open as you were panting. Henry worried you would react negatively to this; he wasn't sure why, but the concern was still at the back of his mind. However, when you did see him, you began to chuckle right away and let your eyes fall closed again as you caught your breath.
"uhh..." You lazily brought your arm to your face, rubbing it in an attempt to wake yourself properly. "You've got a habit of doing this now... Can't say I mind it though..."
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart."
You forced your eyes to open, only to notice... a new home. Not your own but a strange one, and before you could question it, Henry chimed in.
"I am sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't wait to tell you... I brought you to my home, where we can be safe from those monsters."
"When did we..."
"Shh shh, don't worry about it, sweetheart. I took you here while you were asleep."
You squinted, seemingly in disbelief.
"I came back for you, but you, sleepyhead, were already dozing off, and I couldn't bear to wake you up." He leaned in to kiss your forehead, which did wonders in easing your worries.
"But how..."
"I can do a lot of things, sweetheart. Remember? It was barely any effort, because I knew you would be safe here."
You pulled him down to cuddle him, and although he tensed at first, a bit surprised by your eagerness, he didn't pull back. After all, he wanted to make you trust him, be fond of him... and maybe more. So with you nestled against him, his hand went to your nape, soothing you with light strokes.
"We have a long day ahead, sweetheart. I have to show you your new home, but most importantly, breakfast..."
"You don't have to keep looking around, sweetheart. I insist. You must feel at home here. With me."
"I know, I know. I'm not being shy or anything; I don't want to knock something over, that's all."
Henry stopped guiding you around the house, a soft smile plastered proudly on his face. He spun around on his feet until you could see his smile and sense the slight amusement behind it.
"What a wary little lady you are, but..." He leaned forward, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes locked on yours. "You really mustn't worry about such things..." He averted his gaze to the ground for a moment, a meek, shy smile appearing for a moment on his lips before he eyed you again, "No. No, sweetheart. You have to see this place as your new home, because it is."
His smile faded for a moment, one of his hands coming from behind his back to your face, thumb stroking your lips first, before coming to rest on your cheek. "You must be terribly exhausted. How did you sleep? Before I woke you..." The look in his eyes as he waited for an answer became more acutely focused on you, on examining each slight shift in your conduct that would allude to any suspicions toward him.
"Slept? I slept great, a bit too great if you ask me."
"How so, sweetheart?"
Henry took your hand, guiding you to his living room at first.
"I... Well, I don't know. I feel like I've been in one heavy sleep, as if I slept for months or years."
Henry gave you a wary look, but only for a mere second before it turned into a soft chuckle, almost to playfully mock it.
"Oh, sweetheart. If that was the case, don't you think I would've been worried?" Then he leaned in to your ear, in a playful yet conspicuous tone, "There would've been nobody to enjoy all the treats I've got."
Henry leaned away, continuing to walk you around his home, a soft crinkle around his eyes from his smile.
"I couldn't have finished all by myself, and... it would have been tragic to throw it all away, don't you agree, sweetheart?"
You rolled your eyes and used the chance to push yourself up and kiss his cheek, causing him to halt in surprise and glance at you. He should've expected this; after all, he had worked on establishing this kind of connection with you through those false memories and yet seeing it happen now, outside of the dreams he had been puppeteering, was an odd feeling. He couldn't quite place it. Henry didn't dislike it, but he was unaccustomed to it, cautious yet curious.
"Surprised?"
"...do I look surprised?"
"You do actually."
Henry snaked his hand to your lower back, brow raised in a gesture of light shock, the initial one having subsided. The one he displayed was a mere form of teasing, and you guessed it from the way he pursed his lips with this almost chiding ring to his voice.
"I tricked you."
"You tricked me?"
With the most earnest, gentle expression, Henry nodded, "Yes, sweetheart. I tricked you... I gave you the right chance for that kiss, and you did it."
You laughed at that earnestness in his clear lie to save the situation and let your head rest against his shoulder. His other hand came to snake around you, both on the small of your back as he pulled you into his chest, until your head comfortably nestled underneath his chin as he let his head rest on yours.
"I am sure you did, Henry."
"You'd not believe the truth even if it were told to you?"
Henry embraced you gently, eyes closing as his chest rose with each breath against your own. Perhaps there was a part of him that was curious what you would do if he told you the truth. Now that you had grown fond of him, how much harm would it do if he revealed it all? You had to go to your room, become accustomed to this place, until the Mind Flayer would insist on bringing you over. It was not yet the time; for now his task was to keep your suspicions from becoming a nuisance.
"The truth being what? That you are this planning mastermind and made me kiss you? Oh please, as if that was something you could do... You may have quite some powers, but my mind is my own."
Henry's lips curled into a smile.
'Yours indeed.'
"Moreover, that was completely spontaneous, you know? Sometimes I want to kiss you."
"Sometimes you do. Sometimes you want to do more too."
You got caught off guard a little and flashed him a look, clearing your throat and leaving his embrace with your cheeks a little flustered at the implications. Henry initially let you lean back, but he quickly stopped you before you could truly leave his arms, only giving you a second's illusion that you were free from his arms.
"Not yet." He chimed, his hand holding yours, thumb brushing tenderly over yours, soothingly. "I have to tell you one very... very important thing, sweetheart. It's... like... like a rule. But it is very important for me, hm?"
"A rule?"
"A rule, yes." Henry took your hand to his lips, leaning his head down so he could give it a light kiss, watching you from above his glasses. "You saw the forest outside? A dreadful, dreadful place, isn't it, sweetheart?"
"I thought it's quite fun looking- to explore-"
"No. No. That's a trap. That place is very, very dangerous, and you mustn't ever leave without me, hm? Could you be a good girl and promise me that, sweetheart? Could you promise you will never wander off all alone into that terrible place?"
You glanced over your shoulder at the window and saw very briefly the green shade cast by the trees in the distance behind the glass, for Henry made you turn your attention to him again, giving your hand a light squeeze.
"Please? What if you got lost, sweetheart? I couldn't protect you from those scary monsters if I don't know how to find you, hm?"
"I suppose you are right... even though I don't think I would get lost, but if it makes you feel at ease..."
"It would, sweetheart. And you know what they say about forests, no? They are like scary mazes."
You smirked, looking over his shoulder this time, at your room, the door slightly agape behind him.
"In books."
"Books wouldn't lie, sweetheart."
"Alright, alright. You have it. I won't go in the forest without you... But- we will go together, right? I want to see what's in there."
Henry squinted, lips thinning- betraying his displeasure.
"No, sweetheart." This was the first time a 'no' truly felt like a no from him. No more games, or teasing, but a heartfelt no. "We can't go there at all. Not yet."
"Not yet?"
Henry let a soft grunt leave his throat as he led you inside the room, "Don't worry your precious little head with it, sweetheart."
"But what if I want to worry my precious little head with it? You are being awfully secretive. How do I know you aren't one of those scary monsters pretending to be my dear lovely Henry, hm?"
Henry's jaw tightened for a moment, his head snapping up to yours, tense... But he did no further move. Instead, he exhaled tiredly and sat on the edge of your bed.
"So you are a scary monster-"
"Sweetheart."
You stilled.
"Don't joke about that, sweetheart. I can't tell you everything yet because there are things that your little mind would be overwhelmed by... You would be frightened. Run... and then I wouldn't be able to protect you."
"I promised you just now that I wouldn't go out in the forest."
"No, sweetheart. It's more than that."
"Well, you're not making it any easier for yourself."
Henry turned his head away.
"You say my mind would be overwhelmed by it, but you have been testing my mind before, have you not? You know, in the laboratory. You didn't complain before that it would be weak."
"This is not the same, sweetheart."
"And why isn't it?" You asked, nosily.
Henry shot up from the edge of the bed, frowning, tense. Breathing heavier.
"This is clearly something you have to tell me, Henry. You have done bad things to me, alright? You didn't see me running away then. Why would I run away now?"
Henry remained quiet.
"You keep insisting that I have to trust you, and yet you clearly don't trust me if you're not willing to at least explain this."
"I am keeping things from you for your own good."
"If you don't tell me, I am leaving."
Henry tensed more, the pressure visible in the way his neck muscles tightened.
"You'd be going right back to those scary monsters." This time, as he spoke, his voice was less chimy, bearing a neutral, sterile tonality.
"How do I know that, hm? Oh, I don't. I have to trust you. No. Not a chance, you're telling me, or I am leaving right now."
Angered, his temper lost, he undid his cuff, folding up his sleeve and outstretched his arm toward you, yanking you closer with his powers, grunting as his head cocked to the side. You weren't phased, as it wasn't the first time he had ever used his strengths on you, so you eyed him down, waiting.
"You will not run."
"I won't."
"Do you promise, sweetheart?"
You nodded, "I do."
That was the first time you had seen it, before your very eyes, his hand becoming something unnatural. A crimson, tendrilous mass that grew and crawled over his arm, embedding in it until it transformed it fully into the hand of a creature which you did not recognise. Never before in your dreams had he revealed this part to you, and perhaps that was his fault, for he had to expect the shock of seeing it.
Henry spotted the hesitation, the fright and kept his hand above your head, not touching you, merely letting you see it.
"You still do?"
You gulped, swallowing your words for a moment, the sight of his hand too distracting to speak at first. The nails, sharp like claws that hovered inches over your face, continued into skinny bony lines that further sprouted into a tendrilous mass. "I... I do."
"You are not so sure, sweetheart. Don't lie to me."
"I am not."
"Stubborn," Henry growled lowly, his fingers stretched slightly as he closed his eyes, focusing on your mind. It wasn't defended, and it easily allowed him access, permitting him to reveal to you figments of the truth. Not all, for even he couldn't recall all of his own existence, the reason for his own one fear, but he let you see. He let you see the truth through his eyes, let you feel the pain of his journey, the form which he was forced to take.
And perhaps worse of all...
For a mere second, your mind felt and saw the Mind Flayer.
That was when you pulled your head back, escaping the short-lived trance, panting, searching for his eyes. But he remained unchanged, unfazed, lowering you down as his hand came to normal, as he lowered his sleeve again, cuffing it.
"What was that..."
"You know the answer, sweetheart." In his voice, you felt a vague distance, unlike before. "You don't have to be afraid. What you saw... It frightened you, did it not? But it can take it away..."
He tried to place his hand on your cheek and cradle it, to keep you calm. To keep you collected, despite the terror in your eyes and the shivering. The heavy breathing... he had to expect as much from a first vision of the Mind Flayer. "This power, it was its gift. Do you remember? When I told you the order of this word was wrong, deeply unnatural, disruptive? It is through what you have seen that I can undo it all, sweetheart."
"No."
Henry cocked his head.
"No, it's too much."
"I warned you, sweetheart."
"I need... I need time. Alone. Please."
Henry disliked that and continued to hold your cheek and caress it until you stepped away from him.
"I need time to think, that's all. Please. You said it yourself, that it would overwhelm my little brain, no? Well, it did. Please. In the morning we can... you can tell me more about it, and it will be for the better. But now I need to sleep."
Henry could feel your anxiety and the uncertainty which came with it. He knew the risk of insisting any further and crossing over your desires, so he let his hand drop, nodding.
"Are you sure, sweetheart?"
"Yes." You replied swiftly.
"And tomorrow we'll continue."
Henry was disappointed, but complied, head angled down, nodding as he put his hands behind his back and turned to the door.
"If you need anything, sweetheart, you know where my room is, hm?"
"Yes, I remember. And if I can't find it, I will shout out for you." You tried to smile- to joke as to not worry him- and he seemed to fall for it as he nodded, wishing you a good night as he stepped away, his steps quieter and quieter.
Only that Henry was right to be worried.
Anything to the Mind Flayer you could have overcome. Even his new nightmarish form, you would understand as being the effect of all his toils, but that dread and terror of feeling the presence of the Mind Flayer in a vision alone had been enough to scare you into wanting to run away. There was, among the series of memories and visions, one of a cave, brushed over but enough to make you believe foolishly it was there that you'd find an escape.
And over the night... You snuck out of your room and peered inside his, but he was not there. If he had been a pawn to this creature, then what assured you that its goal wasn't to do harm to you too? You didn't know what to do, what it wanted... and in the lack of someone to save you this time, you ran.
You ran into the forest, leaving behind the Creel house, and trying to find an escape.
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Perhaps there were ways, far more entertaining and effective ways, to play around with 001 and gain a proper, heartfelt regret from him. A physical approach, whilst effective, would not quite make him understand his lesson. Or perhaps it would, but would it be fun? Not quite. Which is why the approach you decided to take was a little unlike what he expected. A little unorthodox.
"Sweetheart... what are you doing here? Your shift was supposed to begin 10 minutes ago."
That was a futile question. 001 knew perfectly well what you were doing there, leaning against the lab wall, talking with one of those men in uniforms and laughing at his pathetic excuse of a joke. The orderly knew and dreaded it, but what could he do or say? How could he stop you from allowing those mongrel guards to flirt with you? You were encouraging them; you were willingly talking with them as of late to earn a reaction from him. You were letting those male guards gawk at you and facilitating that, especially when you knew 001 would be there to see.
It was never anything else, though.
It was only edging him.
Giving him the chance to see how easily it would've been for anyone else to have you if you permitted it. It gave you a rush. Being able to see the way 001's innocent face remained the same, yet every muscle in it would tense. It was hard for anyone who didn't know him to notice, but you knew him. You knew him like the back of your hand and could see how his neck would tense. His lip would twitch; his eyes would be barren of empathy as he would glare down at the guard talking to you.
His self-restraint was fascinating; that much you had to admit.
The guard checked his watch, making a half-frustrated groan and turning to 001, eyeing him lazily.
"Boy's right. See you after the shift, girl?"
"No, you won't see her," the orderly replied with an eerie yet singsongy lilt to his voice. He took a step toward the guard, with a smile plastered on his lips, but you knew that wasn't a smile. You could feel the way 001 was drilling through the other man with his eyes, the smile only a facade to restrain himself. "Mr Brenner... He doesn't tolerate this kind of indecent behaviour. It would be a shame if he came to find out. He might have you released."
"Are you threatening me, boy?"
"No... of course not. I am merely letting you know that your actions can have consequences."
You had to put down your head to hide a snicker. 001 would know about consequences. However, he was taking them well. He had a smile on his face while being passive-aggressive to that guard, all for your sake. You had to admit it was quite entertaining.
"Shall we begin our shift, sweetheart?" 001 asked as he turned to you, disregarding the guard.
"Hey boy, I wasn't done talking to ya'."
"...oh?" 001 turned calmly to the man, "No... No, you are wrong again. You are done talking to us."
001 led you away, despite the guard's incessant snappy comments. There was no need to dwell on him yet, since there will come a time when problems like him will have a far, far more effective and quick solution. He glanced back one last time at the man, making sure his face remained imprinted on his mind. After all, he will need a test subject soon.
A few steps and around a corner, as soon as you were a safe distance from anyone else who could hear you, 001 turned to you, brow furrowed.
"I don't like this, sweetheart... This isn't fair. This isn't fair on me, or yourself..."
"Putting me to sleep against my will wasn't fair either..."
"But this is different. Sweetheart, this is not the same thing at all. This is... Upsetting."
"That's true. But it's fun nonetheless."
001 glared at you, but he didn't dare to say anything, seeing how he was in the wrong and had to accept the punishment, whichever form it took, be it physical or making him jealous, because at the end of the day that was exactly what this was. You were toying with his feelings to make him crave you more. The harder he desired you, the more he was punishing himself.
This would be one of the days when you'd have the tea-time, but that was not going to take place anymore, was it? 001 hadn't even bothered to try. He followed you across the hall as you patrolled the area. The silence was quite painful, but 001 didn't know what he could say without making it worse for himself.
"You know... I decided to be lenient."
001's attention perked.
"I will give you a chance. Either I prolong the emotional punishment for another... full week, or you accept the physical punishment, and it ends today."
The malevolent, far too confident grin should have been a sign for 001 to choose the first option, but the prospect of it all ending today was too convenient to pass. How much damage could you truly inflict on the orderly? What kind of physical harm could you ever give him that would compare to the emotional one? None. But it felt too good to be true, right? Far too good to be true.
"Tell me more about the options, sweetheart. I can't make an educated guess otherwise."
"No, you don't get to know anything else. Take your pick, or else I pick the first by default."
No. No, 001 didn't want that. The orderly didn't want the first; no more of that filthy behaviour with the guards. No more jealousy.
"I pick it all ends today," he swallowed hard, his breathing quickening a smidge as he eyed you, heart beating faster, even if the thrill wasn't even there yet. "Physical. Physical punishment. I can take it, sweetheart. Anything, if it ends today, and... and you forgive me. Please, sweetheart. Anything if it means you don't... entertain those... those-"
"I got it. Come on."
You smirked, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him into your secret room. You were lucky you had never been caught, and nobody bothered to check this room, since it had become the perfect place to find seclusion in this lab. Only you two knew the kind of things this room had witnessed.
"Sweetheart," 001 whispered, closing the door behind the two of you. "We have to be careful. What if that man is following us? What if we are found out? We could lose this room..."
"Who? Oh, come on, you really think he cares enough to spy on us? He is thrilled he's got the night off. He won't be a problem. I'd be more concerned with the cameras. I heard Brenner is planning to install more."
"I heard so too... This place... Maybe we should leave it, sweetheart. Sometime. Sometime soon..."
You blocked the door, to be sure, then guided 001 to sit on the edge of your bed, which he complied with, his heart wasting no second in starting to pound painfully against his chest.
"We will. But it's not the time for that yet... Right now, it's time we make things even, hm?"
001 knew what that meant. The orderly nodded, hands clutching the sides of the bed. The man observed you curiously. His eyes followed as you paced around him, apprehension looming as he heard each soft thud of your steps echo in his throat and ears.
He watched as you got closer, how you hovered right above him, but did nothing. 001's hands remained glued to the edge of the bed, whilst you planted your hands on his knees, slowly descending before him.
001 swallowed the knot in his throat, letting his head drop back so he wouldn't see it. How you knelt before him, how your hands were working on his belt. He buried his fingers in the white sterile sheet, which he carefully changed each week, trying to keep his breathing even. His feet lodged in his shoes remained steady on the ground, his entire body tense with suspense.
"What... What is this, sweetheart? What are you doing..."
"I'm punishing you. Isn't that what I said I would do?"
"...This... can't be the punishment."
"Because it isn't yet."
Your vagueness was enough to make 001 grunt slightly and roll his hips, trying to get more comfortable, but it was in vain. Your hands had already worked on unbuckling the belt, the metal hoop no longer a barrier to your reaching the button keeping his white trousers in place. With a light flick of your fingers, the button came undone, and you tugged his pristine white trousers lower, hearing the fabric rustle as you brought it down to his knees, before they dropped by themselves to his ankles.
He didn't dare to look down. To face your reaction. When it was just him and your asleep body, he wasn't afraid. He knew you'd not be able to judge him, but now with you awake, so many things changed. He was anxious, not because he didn't want it, but because he wanted it so deeply that he feared a negative reaction from you upon seeing him.
After all, you hadn't seen what was beneath those white trousers, but only guessed based on that wet stain you saw the week before. You didn't see the bulge, didn't feel the outline. You didn't know what to expect, and 001 feared just that. The orderly feared your reaction.
"So quick?"
001 opened his eyes, knuckles painful and white from the grip. He let go slightly, exhaling the air he had been trapping in his lungs.
"W-What's quick, sweetheart?"
"You. You're already getting hard... I didn't even get to touch you..."
001 swallowed the knot in his throat. He should've guessed.
Your tone was mocking, playfully, your fingers pressing against the fabric of his boxers, outlining the shape of his half-hard cock with them. The touch, even dulled as it was by that layer, was enough to make him shudder, abdomen tensing and hips moving forward into your palm.
Too slow.
You removed your palm with a smirk.
"Oh no. No. No, you don't get to decide that now."
He peeked down at you, nodding.
"It is punishment after all, but I am sure you could manage, isn't that right?"
"Yes, yes, sweetheart. I... I can."
Your fingers hooked into the fabric, making note of the slightly damp spot that had already formed on his boxers as you tugged them down, letting them fall to his ankles too. Then your fingers trailed up his thighs, nails grazing the flesh enough to earn a grunt from him. His cock twitched, and he tried to cross his legs in vain.
He had a feeling he knew what your plan was.
Of what this punishment was supposed to be, and whilst it was indeed a punishment, it did spur him on.
"You are not allowed to use your hands, understood?"
"I promise, sweetheart."
"You are not going to play dirty, alright? No overpowering me. You sit and take the punishment so we have it even."
"I promise, sweetheart. I will accept it... for you. I deserve it."
Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, giving him a few lazy strokes, which were more than enough to have him rock hard and already on the edge. It was fascinating how touch-starved he was, how needy. How easy it had been to get him to be close with only a few strokes.
His head dropped back, eyes squeezed shut. You could hear how hard he was trying to keep his breathing steady, to keep himself from rocking his hips into your hand. It was enticing, a sight. Watching how your hand stroked him lazily, far too slow and light, almost to the point he wanted to beg. But he didn't. He stopped himself, his body nearly shaking with how bad he craved it.
You stopped right as he felt he'd tip over.
His toes curled in his shoes, and he let out a pained breath mingled with a desperate whimper.
"I..."
"You?" You knew he wanted to beg, but that was against his punishment. Like a good boy, he shut himself.
You smirked, hand regaining a pace. Light strokes, but your hand tightened slightly, a better grip this time, the man's own precum acting as slick to ease your strokes. 001 was getting into it. His breathing quickened again. He was feeling it build up. Your hand was enough to make him so close that he could almost feel it; he could feel it there...
And then you stopped again. A second time.
"Oh, such a shame... My hand gets tired so quick," you sighed, taunting him. It was obvious that your hand was fine, but you simply loved to take away his chance to cum, a second time now. "Oh, you were close, weren't you? I'm so sorry, that must've been awful... tut-tut."
"You are cruel, sweetheart... so cruel," he cried, breathing heavily.
"Oh, but it was an accident... I didn't mean to,"
You grinned, hand returning to his cock, stroking him again, this time not building the pace but giving it a quick rhythm right away, making him gasp. The gasp was feral, followed by a groan and a series of small whimpers as he felt it come closer. Once again getting so close to cum when...
You stopped. A third time.
"But no, no, this isn't right. You've never just used your hand, right? You also used your mouth."
"Sweetheart... I beg... I don't care what you use, please. Sweetheart, I can't..."
"Shh shh. You can, of course you can."
He winced, watching your hand wrap around him and start jerking him again. This would be the third time, and he was starting to feel like he'd cry. 001 needed to cum so desperately that he feared it would happen whether you allowed it or not. Each denied release only spurred him on further, making him feel like one more touch, no matter how light, would be enough to make him cum, shamefully, wherever he could reach.
Your hand worked at a steady pace this time, almost fooling him that this time he was going to be allowed to cum. Your mouth too joined in, lips grazing over the tip, tongue pressing flat against it. Your mouth enveloped it, sucking it lightly, taunting him. Then you took more of him, more than the head of his cock, tongue flicking slightly at the undershaft, hand still stroking the base. He was blissful, sweating. His forehead bore little trickles of it. He was dizzy, lightheaded. His eyes were watery, tears forming as he felt it so close. So dangerously close and so intense that he feared he wouldn't be able to withstand his own release.
But you were nice to him this time, right? You punished him enough. You were going to let him cum this time, weren't you? He sincerely hoped so; otherwise he felt his whole body would come apart.
You pushed him closer, and closer, feeling him twitch and his body writhing slightly as he tried to contain himself, to hold back even a moment longer. But you knew he was close, and whilst you could have forgiven him and be nice, you decided against it. You continued, tricking him into believing he was going to be allowed to cum, and you felt him relax, losing his barriers, fully allowing himself to be immersed in it.
"Sweetheart... oh, fuck... sweetheart... I think I'll..."
"Hm?"
"I think- I'm almost..."
You knew it, continuing until you felt it. That first twitch, the abdomen tense, the orderly's slight arch- and you pulled away. Hand and mouth, having him cum unaided on the floor tiles. This had been by far the most cruel, as you had stopped right when he needed it most, ruining his orgasm, making him tear up and rock hopelessly into nothing. He leaned forward, trying to get friction, but there was nothing to help him, nothing to make his release more pleasurable.
His body tense and he winced, shaking with each string of cum that landed on the floor at your feet. You smirked, watching his tear-stained cheeks, his innocent, betrayed expression and smiled. You pushed yourself up, guiding his chin to look at you with your index and thumb, smiling at the deliciously weakened and pathetic look in his eyes.
"Well, I think we're even now."
001 couldn't answer. After having been denied three times and his fourth being ruined, all he could do was curl into himself, his cock aching, tears ruining his face. You let go of his head and let it nuzzle your shoulder.
"Please... please make it right... Please sweetheart. One time... One. Please... Anything, just once. I learned my lesson, I beg you."
"I'm sorry, love, but no," you let your hand roam through his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he continued whimpering and begging weakly against the crook of your neck. "I know, I know... I know you want it so bad, but we can't do that, dear. Not today. Today is punishment only; I warned you, baby. I know..."
"But, but I..."
"Shhh shhh, it's okay, you can take it. You've done so well, now we go back to our shift, hm? And as soon as the clock hits midnight, we are even."
"But... but we won't be able... sweetheart, we... we wouldn't be able to do anything else tonight, and I..."
You smirked, placing a soft kiss on his forehead while he gazed up at you with the most innocent, desperate blue eyes.
"I know, baby, punishments are tough, but take the good side, hm? During our next shift together... we won't have anything holding us back anymore."
001 knew you could be stubborn, knew you'd not back down from your decision, so he knew there was no arguing to be done. He reached down, still shaky, to pull up his trousers, giving you one more soft look. Even after taunting him, tormenting him, he couldn't say he wanted to change anything. Sure, things had started off not in the best way between the two of you, but he was pleased that they progressed in a positive direction, and, at last, there was nothing else left to take out on each other. No more punishments or frustrations or resentments. From now on, he didn't have to resort to tricks...
You caught him glancing up and used the change to give his lips a kiss, light, just enough to make his thoughts come to an end and for him to blink, the slight inexpressiveness replaced by his familiar little smile.
"Do you feel ready to continue the shift?"
"I.... I will be honest, sweetheart... no. Not at all... but I must."
You laughed, helping him stand and dress himself.
"That's right, love. You must, after all; that's what good boys do, and you are the best boy I know."
NOTE: Thank you everyone for requesting Part 3 and supporting this fanfic! Here you have it~
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Pairing: Skiff x f/m/gn!Reader || Thomas the Tank Engine
Warning: none [the title is a joke]
For: @bwaylover1993
˚₊⊹ masterlist: Is this... a ship? ✧ Tumblr | Ao3 ˚ ₊⊹
word count: 500
"Hey, Skiff?"
It was early in the nightfall, a tranquil summer one that was just right for a little stargazing. Watching the luminaries while out on the sea could never feel better than it was when Skiff took you, slightly away from the harbour, just out of the noise of the docks, into the serene, calm sea that this night had to offer. You lay back, hands crossed over your chest, observing the small dots of light that peckered the clear night sky.
"Since we are out here alone.... I am curious. You know, when I look at the stars, I always think of my biggest dreams. What about you, Skiff? You never told me what your biggest dream was..."
Your friend made a humming noise, thinking for a little before giving you a reply. It was quite hard for him to tell; after all, he never really thought much about it. He loved what he did, and dreaming for more wasn't his thing. Yet, when you asked, he seemed to remember something.
"Skiff wants... oh. Skiff hasn't thought of that. Hm... No. No, that's a lie. Skiff has sometimes dreamed of something. But... it is... a lot. Skiff can't say... You'll think Skiff is ungrateful and he isn't! Skiff loves to be a railboat. To be on the shore and sea but..."
"But?"
"But Skiff heard people talk about pirates once! And how dreadfully terrifying they were on the big ships that kept them safe... and... And Skiff dreamed of that! Skiff dreamed of being a big great ship that can protect everyone and take them to see the vast sea on lots of adventures!"
You chuckled, standing up, no longer looking at the stars but checking on Skiff, who was trying to peek up at you.
"Oh Skiff... but, even now... How can you say I'd think you're ungrateful? All you want is to make others happy!"
Your boat buddy squeaked, replying in a very enthusiastic tone. Vibrant, eager, just as you would expect from a tiny boat with big dreams.
"But it would also make Skiff happy! Skiff would see Mermaids! And treasure... but... Skiff heard there'd be bad, bad quarrels and other ships would come and throw these heavy iron balls and hurt you. My pretty hull would be cracked and... and I'd risk hurting everyone! I'd sink and... and Skiff- no. No. This is why Skiff stopped dreaming about that. Too dangerous... Being a big ship is dangerous."
The silence fell. Skiff was right, and you weren't sure what else to tell Skiff. There were big boats now too. Big ships that took people on cruises but... You couldn't see your Skiff friend anywhere else but here.
With the friends at the docks.
"So... what is your dream now, Skiff?"
Skiff was quiet, unlike his usual vibrance, and yet, all of a sudden, a spark returned to his voice and he replied excitedly.
"Oh, Skiff knows. The biggest dream Skiff has is to be a big big ship but for the tiny little people who want to see the harbour!"
NOTE: I am unhinged, this is completely random and ooc, but it was for the giggles. LMAO
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ᯓ★ a kind of 7 minutes in Heaven with Henry '001' Creel!
Pairing: Henry '001' Creel x f!Reader || Stranger Things
Warning: smut, unprotected p in v, 001's in your mind and not only
˚₊⊹ masterlist: Laboratory ✧ Tumblr | Ao3 ˚ ₊⊹
word count: 1.8k
"Hush... hush now. Can't you hear... Y/N? They are here."
001 shoved you inside one of the closets and shut the door behind you. 001 was careful that the metallic slam wouldn't alert the guards. They were patrolling, searching for you two. He was breathing in, his chest pressed against yours, raising with each breath. Slowly. Controlled. 001 was doing his best to steady. To calm his breathing, not to alert the guards.
"Where did they go?"
"Fuck, Brenner's going to have our heads."
"Worse..."
"What can be worse?"
"Do you really want to find out?"
The guards passed. They were arguing by the closet. 001 froze, holding his breath, squeezing you against him. His hand rests at the back of your head, nestling it carefully into him. A quiet gesture that made you aware that you must remain quiet.
The steps froze.
The voices stopped, almost eerily, right as they faced the closet. Then the steps resumed, nearing you. 001 squeezed you tightly, both your breaths held. 001's head leaned forward. He clutched onto you. He wanted to shield you in case the door opened.
"Come on,"
"...uh? Yeah... coming..."
And then the steps grew quieter... further. Further away until 001 was certain the guards were gone. You were safe. 001 let his head drop against your shoulder as he exhaled the breath he was holding, panting heavily as soon as the adrenaline wore off slightly.
"They almost got us..."
"But they didn't."
"That's right, sweetheart... Y/N... We were smarter."
001 smiled, but you wouldn't know. The closet was pitch black and cramped. All you could make out was the shape of 001's body pressed into yours. The man's hand lingered at the back of your head, the other at the small of your back.
"You were smarter," you corrected him. He had been the one shoving you in there.
You heard a small chuckle, a snicker coming from 001, followed by a soft shake of his head.
"No... No, sweetheart. This was luck. I had you here... I wanted to save you. If it were just me, I would've been caught. So it's thanks to you that we escaped."
He praised you.
The hand on the small of your back massaged you. Stroking in slow circular motions. Soothingly. Even though you were safe now, 001 didn't let you go. The orderly kept you close, caressing the small of your back. Despite how stressful the situation had just been, you felt comforted and safe in 001's arms. You could smell him underneath the miasma of lab disinfectant and dubious substances. Beneath it all, you felt his scent, luring you into relaxing. And he sensed it too, in the way your body so willingly nestled against his.
"We should get out..."
"No... No sweetheart. We can't yet. It could be a trick to catch you... no. We must stay a bit longer..."
The way 001 said it made you suspicious.
The honeyed tone, the soft baby-talking, hinted to you that he wanted a few minutes of peace with you. So you didn't call him out on it. Why should you? The softness, the protective, if slightly possessive attitude, was endearing.
So you nodded, your own arms slithering around his torso, embracing him. A second passed... and then another... and as they did, the atmosphere grew heavy with something different, no longer the anxiety of hiding but the thrill of being together like this. How long had 001 tried to keep his hands off you? It wasn't part of his plan. Not something he had to do... this was frivolously human of him to crave. The touch of another. Yours.
But was it truly that wrong when you were the one to escape with him? To align with his cause? Where others failed to see the meaning of his plan, you did. And you risked yourself to follow him. You were as he was, another one who saw the world for what it truly was, humans for their worth.
"Can I touch you, sweetheart?"
How innocent the tone for the weight of his words. They left his lips before the meaning had fully morphed in his mind. 001 appeared as shocked to hear them as you, judging by your soft gasp.
"I am ... sorry. I shouldn't have asked..." 001 apologised rapidly, but 001's own words were cut short by a shuddered breath, a soft gasp. "Ah, sweetheart..."
He felt it.
Tantalising, the touch of your hand brushing against the crotch of his pristine white pants, coaxing him. He fell into temptation without restraint or thinking. His hips softly pressed forward into your palm.
"Y/N... This is more than I..."
"Than you can take?"
Your bold taunt caused 001 to tighten the grip on your hair, blindly shoving his lips onto yours to kiss you. He wasn't going to deny himself anymore. All of those plans done together, the desire to change the world in ITS design... all done with you. There were many flaws that humans had, flaws ingrained irrevocably in the fabric of individuals. One such flaw was this insatiable, unappeasable parchedness that scrotched him each time he glanced at you.
But now you couldn't run. Even if you had tried, 001 doubted he'd let you go. Maybe, just maybe, had he been in control of himself... he might've. But the Mind Flayer gave him the strength to have what he wanted. 001 wanted you... And he would have you. Without that irking device to stop him, what could you do?
Did you even want to do anything?
No.
001 could feel you wanted this. You wanted the bliss which came with understanding the other so profoundly. So profoundly that every cell felt connected to the other.
"Than you can take."
001 returned the playful threat, backing you against the closet wall, the metallic chill hitting your back. You arched against 001's chest as he swallowed your gasps, muffling them. He kept the back of your head protected with his hand, but he no longer held you by the lower back. Instead, his hand went lower, to your arse. He squeezed it greedily, taking in as much of the flesh as he could and letting an excited, shaky breath pass his lips as he broke the kiss.
He couldn't back out now. They'd have to tear him away...
001 pushed his crotch up against yours, rolling his hips into you whilst his lips found your neck, nipping and licking at the eager hot flesh, so very alluring against the chill of the lab. He claimed your neck with his lips and teeth and tongue, soft grunts passed by your ear, making your knees weak. His hips kept rolling, causing that frivolously primal reaction to show. The growth, the tent... the erection tightly stretching the fabric of his orderly trousers.
You reached down blindly and fiddled with the buttons, guiding yourself by the rustle of the fabric. You pushed them lower, and he ground into you more desperately, kneading your arse.
"It's not enough... it will not be enough..."
"What more-"
"You'll see..."
His hand came to help you with your gown.
That lab gown he'd dread now seemed his best friend. It was so much easier to gain access to you, pushing up the fabric and slipping his hand to your knickers. His middle finger pressed right into the fabric, against the slit, sensing the damp material - the only barrier between you two. You had begun to stroke him, but he wasn't satisfied. Not when he could feel all of you.
"Trust me... Let this happen... We need this to happen..."
"But..."
"Nobody will know. You and I... and nobody else."
"What if we get caught?"
"I will protect you... Y/N... Didn't I tell you? Don't be afraid of them anymore. They can't hurt us."
001 had murmured those words, but his hand worked. He had angled himself, pushing himself little by little against your cunt, while you kept your knickers aside with one finger. How lewd and yet... safe. Nobody could know or see... Not even you could see the extent of your actions. Only feel his size as it rocked slowly up, pressing further and further up inside you. And then it halted.
The hand in your hair never left... the other, however, moved to your outer thigh, caressing it as he began to thrust. Slowly... almost as if rocking you.
"Thank you..."
"Don't thank me. I wanted it too..."
"Thank you," he insisted. "Please... continue to trust me, sweetheart. Put your trust in me... let your mind be free... Relax... Let me be inside of you."
But it was more.
More than his erection pounding into you. He was inside your mind too, trying to form a connection deeper than that of two normal, feedable humans. He wanted to tap deeper. To see, to hear... to find what made you feel good. He continued. Hips rolling against yours slightly faster, his hand holding your thigh possessively.
The pace increased, little by little. You could feel it... the pleasure was there, but more than that, you felt 001 gain control over you. Your trust. Your openness permitted the man to go further than anyone ever could. You felt your mind at ease. Devoid of thoughts, as if all memories and impressions had grown replaced by the desire to let go. To shut off... And as your mind blanked, bending to his will, so did your body.
You let go.
Whether it was you or 001 controlling this, you let go. Overcome by a wave of pleasure, the climax was beyond anything achievable with physical stimulation alone. For long moments, you felt a kind of bliss. When it was over, your body went limp from how overcome it was by it.
001 had pulled out and finished off on your thigh, but had managed to catch you before your body would give up. 001 propped you up with his chest and one arm, panting against your shoulder.
He, too, was exhausted... Blissful but exhausted. He had used his mind and body quite so intensely. So he kept you there... catching his breath alongside you, his ears perked for any noise.
No guards.
How stupid...
And yet how lucky for them.
"If we escape... will there be more of this?"
You asked, a soft snicker meddled with the heavy panting as your chest rose and fell, attempting to recover.
"Sweetheart... no. There is no if. We will escape," he whispered against your neck, "and once we do... yes. Yes. I promise. There will be more of this."
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ᯓ★ hurt/comfort with Elliot, who unceremoniously fell off his horse.
Pairing: Elliot Marston x f!Reader || Quigley Down Under
Warning: Elliot got hurt so a bit of blood mention/injury
For my OG reader: @smilingformoney
˚₊⊹ masterlist: 3... 2... 1. ✧ Tumblr ₊⊹
word counter: 2k
"Ah, fuck me dead..."
Elliot hissed, crashing down in the dust with a loud thud. Dobkin and Coogan yanked on the reins of their horses. They dismounted them in a rush, dashing over to Elliot, who had by now managed to get on his arse, one elbow planted in the dusty soil, his other hand clutching at his side. Nasty fall. He felt something warm immediately at his side, a slicing feeling replaced by a pooling heat and the sound of thorn fabric.
The adrenaline was keeping him from feeling the pain of the fall. Dobkin ran off to catch up to Elliot's horse. Poor creature had trodden away, frightened by God knows what. Coogan knelt by Elliott, trying to check on him, but Elliott grunted in frustration. He was annoyed knowing he'd be seen in such a position. He spat in the sandy soil and let his back fall on the ground. Elliot pointed at a spot with his other arm.
His hat had been flung away in the fall. It landed on a spiked bush, clinging to one of its sturdier branches a little distance from them, and Elliot was perhaps trying to point out that he wanted that back.
"What are you gawkin' at? Go fetch that."
"But-"
"If I hear a single whine, Coogan, I'll be terribly unhappy. Fetch it now and don't make me get up from here."
Elliot tried to brush off the fall as if it were nothing.
Bloody horse embarrassed him in front of his men. God knew he'd punish the four-legged thing when they returned. But for now, he had to assess how bad it was. Could he stand up by himself? The adrenaline was on, but it had begun to subdue. In fact, it lessened quite enough to cause Elliot to feel a vague burning under the spot he was clutching it. Bastard soil. Bastard, sandy rocky ground and blasted god damn bushes and thistles that he landed on. He groaned. His hand drew back just enough to peek beneath. To see the damage done.
His vest had a tear, and his white shirt had a red stain. The stain began to expand as soon as Elliot removed the pressure. Worried to see the wound was open, and God knows how large under the fabric, he covered it again with his palm.
"Ah fuck me dead..." he repeated, hand clutching tightly and his eyes anchored at the sky, at that light blue sky that seemed to laugh at him. How all came crashing down on him, Quigley and the men seeing him like this, and once he got back, he knew he'd face your wrath. Or maybe it wasn't wrath... but it would still be a scolding, and he knew he'd embarrass himself further in front of everyone. He grunted. The burning sting made him writhe a little in the dust.
Elliot planted the heels of his boots in the ground and, with his free arm, shoved himself upward, staggering slightly until his boots got proper footing. He glanced down. Around his palm, the shirt's whiteness was now a dark red, dried blood and dust caught in it. And it was a new one too... Damn it. You won't like this.
"I've got it!" Coogan came back, nearly tripping over a pile of stones turned by the rucks, and Elliott snatched his hat roughly from the boy, placing it on his head.
"I have eyes, boy. Get Dobkin here, and stop with that pitiful look before I show you who needs pitying."
Coogan put his head down, nodded and rattled off, mounting his horse to catch up to Dobkin. You'll scold him. God, he knew you would... If only Dobkin and Coogan would get back so he could get this done faster...
"Where have you been?"
Elliot opened his mouth to talk, but before he could, Coogan dismounted and took the horse by the reins, calling over to you.
"Marston's got hurt, lady. The horse's gone rogue on him..."
"Shut it, kid."
"Elliot! How did you get hurt? Let me see it."
"It's fine, girl. Just a scratch, no more. And you, kid, go find better business to attend to."
Elliot snapped at the boy. Not excessively rough but firm enough that Coogan didn't dare put in another word or even look at him for that matter. Dobkin tried to help Elliot off the horse, but the man, as stubborn as ever, got off on his own. Quite in time for you to have reached his side. The two men took Elliot's horse away, glancing over their shoulder at him but daring to say nothing as they saw you take Elliot inside.
"He's a lucky man..."
"We're lucky men he didn't put holes through us. Haven't seen him this upset since-"
"Since the other week when Quigley's made a run for it?"
"Something like that."
"Elliot! I told you so many times to be careful."
You had him sit on a chair as you took off his vest despite his groans and attempts to stop you.
"It's nothing, girl. It's a scratch. You're makin' a fuss over nothing."
You shot Elliot a glance as you gently removed his hand from his side.
"If it's a scratch, why wouldn't you let me see it? Hand off, don't make me say it twice."
"Your lady eyes should be kept away from this stuff..."
"You can be insufferable sometimes. Hand off and let me see it. If I don't take care of you, you'll bleed out trying to save face."
Elliot didn't like that.
He didn't want to be bossed around, but this time it was for his well-being. He had to allow it. And at least he'd only be seen vulnerable by you, not the other men. If his ego was hit, at least it would only be chipped, not fully broken. No man could really hold it to him that he was soft around his sweetheart, but had he done that in front of a man? God, he'd be tarnished.
"You call this a scratch, Elliot?"
"How bad could it be?"
"You didn't even look, did you? You're one hell of an irresponsible man."
Your scolding only made Elliot turn his head away and scoff, which was soon replaced by a frustrated hiss under his breath. You tried to lightly peel off the shirt from his skin, but it was glued to him, and you knew it would hurt. The stain of blood had meddled with dirt and thistles and was clinging to his side like a claw. If it hurt as badly as it looked, then it must've been quite a sting.
He leaned, both elbows shoved into the table. His head dropped back, watching the ceiling as you tended to his injury. He bit down on his lip, but the burning sting of the cut was tearing through his tough act. His tongue traced over the edge of his moustache as he tried to distract himself. You didn't mind his act, his facade, too busy trying to treat him before it got any worse. Heaven knows how bad this would be if you didn't clean it up faster.
You removed those monstrous thistles and, with a blade, cut the shirt to make it easier to remove. You tried to have it off Elliot's shoulders, but when he moved his arm, you saw him wince. Perhaps the pain was rattled by the movement, and so cutting the shirt was worthwhile. You'd find use for the fabric later, even if it meant decimating such a good shirt. What use would a shirt have if the owner got himself sick from some nasty soil that got in the wound? Better safe than sorry.
"I liked this one," Elliot retorted, watching you work on him.
"So did I, it was a new, lovely thing. But you went around and decided to trash yourself. What even was it, huh?"
"Bastard horse got scared and knocked me off," Elliot snapped, but quickly calmed down, knowing you had no fault in it "I'd be damned if I know. Must've seen its shadow."
The irony in his voice didn't put you at ease. Not until you managed to uncover the source of the pain. A cut... significant, yet not as frightening as you worried. It was lengthy, not quite too deep, and it had begun to crust over. A shame, though, that it did so before you got to clean it. You soaked a piece of cloth in warm water, and Elliot, knowing what was to come, whistled over his valet, who brought him Brandy on a tray. He fetched a glass and downed it in a chug, gritting his teeth and tensing up under the damp cloth that began to trace across his skin.
"I don't remember you having problems with this horse before..."
" 'cause I didn't."
Elliot wasn't chatty tonight.
You knew him well enough to know why, after all, he was like this with everyone. Trying so hard to keep that facade even when he needed others' help. It didn't surprise you; you could even understand why he'd do it in a land like this and with such rough men around. But why with you? You sighed. Understanding the cue, you returned quietly to your work.
Elliot watched.
At first, he felt a sort of resentment seeing you helping him. He wanted to shove you away, to pat himself clean.
To patch himself up and not speak of this incident.
But then, as he watched, he felt that this resentment had no root in you, but in his own... hatred for vulnerability. If anything, this hurt him more than the wound. But the hot bite of the Brandy loosened him up, quite enough to feel that resentment mould gradually into a kind of... soothing feeling. The light daze of the drink, not enough to knock him out but just enough to calm him, flowed through him.
You were still so diligently taking care of him that his hatred... he couldn't keep it up. He felt thankful. Thankful and even a bit scared. Scared to see such a tough girl helping him out. You were a good woman, a good, brave one who didn't flinch when it came to caring for the man you held dear. Elliot could respect that. Elliot could even secretly love that.
Maybe being cared for was not quite so bad if it was you doing it.
You expected to be interrupted. Elliot often did. He'd often get up in the middle of your treating him and brush off any wound like it was nothing. But this time, much to your shock, you managed to take the treatment to an end. You patched him up nice and clean and helped him into one of his shirts. Not new like this one had been, but one you had just washed out recently. And Elliot, with a strange passivity, accepted it all.
He didn't snatch the shirt from you to dress himself. He didn't dismiss you or tell you he could take care of it himself. Sure, he had been a bit hard to deal with at the beginning, until you sat him down, and until he drank that Brandy.
But now, he was calm, almost curiously watching. He inspected your delicate hands, tending to him, your eyes so focused on him. And then, without a warning, a soft grin took over the sulk on his face. Despite all the pain caused by sudden movements, he pulled you in. Elliot sat you on his knee - the opposite one to the side he scarred himself on.
You tried to get up, scolding him for overexhausting himself, but Elliot continued to grin. With one hand on the small of your back, the other cradling your cheek, he kept you there, steadily on him. A soft yet slightly pained laugh broke the looming anxiety in the room.
ᯓ★ . Caleb sees you putting your daughter to sleep and decides one child isn't enough. A bit more plot than usual.
Pairing: Caleb Sykes x f!reader || Horizon: An American Saga
Warning: married!Caleb x Reader, dad!Caleb, breeding, unprotected p in v (obviously), dirty talking (Caleb isn't an asshole with you, he just knows it turns you on when he speaks like that)
Suggestion by: @posiebb
˚₊⊹ masterlist: Another ✧ Tumblr | Ao3 ˚ ₊⊹
word count: 2.5k
One youngster was quite enough to deal with already. Caleb's child varied little from him, after all, as the saying goes, like father, like son. In this case, like daughter. The first child Caleb had was a little girl, a carbon copy of him in terms of both looks and personality. A rebellious little lady that never listened to either you or Caleb himself, which was nearly killing you, whilst making Caleb laugh his heart out. No matter how many times you tried to get the little one under control, it always led to Caleb letting her do whatever and laughing at how fiery her tiny heart was.
But he was not as concerned with taking care of the little one. Caleb was a provider and was out a lot while you had to be taking care of the little one. There were several times when you had told Caleb that he had better take care of your daughter, too, else you'd kick him out. But he always laughed and rubbed your back.
"You do mighty fine, girl. Don't let me mess her up."
"She needs a father, Caleb! Come on... You can't stay out all day and come late-"
"You got it, girl. That's why I wifed ya' up. Come on, give me a kiss."
And he'd pulled you in by the hip and kissed you hard before going out again.
But this time, things took a different turn.
It was late, the sun was setting, so you suspected he was out to feed the horses before coming back. You let him. How could you argue with him? You put the little one to bed. She had already eaten, and you thought to give Caleb his meal soon.
But for now, you stayed there, quietly, on the edge of the bed, watching. Tending to the little girl, making sure she was deep in sleep before you could go. Oh, she was a little menace, but one thing she couldn't fight you on was sleep. She always fell asleep right as you put her down on the bed after running about all day and begging you to ask her dad to take her riding on the horse.
She was asleep, though.
Deep in sleep.
You smiled, hand stroking her cheek, then got up, but not before placing a soft kiss on her head. How you saw your Caleb in her... In this little menace of an angel.
But as you turned to the doorway, you saw Caleb.
He was there, with his arms crossed, his hat gone. He had discarded his furs and gun and was standing there. Quiet. That was unlike him, to be quiet. It spooked you to see him there, and you covered your mouth sharply to keep from squeaking and waking the little one.
You felt tension in his eyes, an intense pressure that loomed over you. It was strange, it wasn't anger or frustration, but something curious which you hadn't spotted in a long time. You felt it was similar to what you could call desire... He wanted you. And yet, there was more... More than the simple desire he held for you.
You walked over to him, trying to make it past him, but he was blocking the door.
He inhaled deeply.
Then exhaled, slowly, as if he held behind a flurry of words. A million things that ought to be said. But that was concluded with a deep shuddering grasp of your wrist as he tugged you into his body.
"One ain't enough girl, I'll give ya another."
He whispered. Not to wake your daughter, as he guided you out of the room, closing the door behind you.
"Another?"
"Another baby. I'll put another in ya'. I'll be damned... Ya' want me in the house? I ain't leaving 'till I make sure ya're with child again."
"Not a chance, Caleb. One's already a hassle. Love her to death, but I ain't takin' care of another."
"Shut it, girl."
"What about dinner? Caleb, come on, be responsible, like a father should!"
"Hell, I ain't giving a damn about dinner. If I don't have ya' now I'll be mad mad, girl."
"Caleb!"
Caleb grinned, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom. He was messing with you. You sniffed that out, but you knew better - when Caleb was set on something, he would have it done. So you let him carry you, clinging to his shoulders. Trying not to laugh.
"Ain't ya my wife? That's right, girl. My wife, ain't got a word, if I say I put a baby in ya' I will. God's asked for it, for another babe."
"That's right, girl. Damn, ya'll be the death of me!"
Caleb groaned, pressing his head back against the straw pillow.
His hands were clasped roughly on your hips, keeping you steady on his lap. Each roll of your hips, each bounce on his cock, drawing feral growls from Caleb, who was, for once, letting you take charge. There had always been a silent agreement that he'd be on you, but this time you swayed him, got him under you, and now you were taking full advantage of his willingness to let you in charge.
"This ain't right, girl. Ain't right for a man like me..."
"You wanted this, Caleb. Now shut it and take it."
"Who ya' think ya' speakin' to, girl?" Caleb started, threatening to push himself up, but you thrust him down with your hands pressed firmly down on his chest. "Fuck, ya... minx."
"Wanted another child? I'll have it on my own terms."
Caleb didn't fight you on it. He let himself drop back on the bed, with his hands on you, guiding you to ride him as he liked it. His hips thrust up into you, meeting your pace. There were soft creaks of the bed, the wooden frame too frail for the pace Caleb was often willing to set.
"I ain't likin' the tone ya' got with me, girl."
"I'm your wife, Caleb. Not your toy."
You felt him twitch inside you, and saw the way his jaw tightened as he struggled to hold back. He wanted to grab you and force that baby in you on his own terms, but seeing you on him like that was a sight he was equally unwilling to give up on. So he forced himself to let you have the lead, at least for now.
"Ya' be what I want ya'. Don't get ahead of ya'self girl. Damn, ya're a fuckin' view."
As you rolled your hips, pace quickening as you chased your release, Caleb grunted, growing desperate to regain control again. His hands migrated from your hips to your ass, squeezing it and keeping you steady by it as he started thrusting roughly up into you. Taken by surprise, you dropped your head forward, trying to cling to his chest to ground yourself, but Caleb wasn't going to give you time to adapt.
He thrust up into you, licking his lips at the sight of your resolve faltering. Caleb thrived on seeing your lips part, hearing your muffled, strangled moans as you tried to keep control of yourself. To not give in yet. But he knew how to make you lose your grip. He kept thrusting into you, one hand hard on your ass, the other reaching up to the back of your head, burying his fingers in your hair. He got a hold of your hair and pushed your head down closer to his, forcing a rough kiss on you while he thrust into you with his whole strength.
You winced and tried to claw at him with your nails to make it easier, but that made him laugh. He broke the kiss, his forehead pressed into yours, his hand keeping your head there by the hair as he growled right by your lips.
"That's right, girl, sure ridin' me better than ya' ride my horse-"
"Stop it, Caleb," you forced yourself to say, the waves of pleasure too intense to be able to think of anything better to say.
"Ain't got to tell me what to do. Good wives keep their beaks shut, ay?"
"Asshole."
"That's girl, baby. Cuss at me all ya' want, but I can feel ya' takin' it good. Hell, ya' pussy's practically begging for it. God. God Damn. Come on, girl, come on. Give me a son."
With a rough jerk, he rolled you over, your back hitting the sheets with him still inside you, thrusting as roughly. But like this, he had a better angle, a better footing. His knees lodged into the mattress as he quickened his pace more, groaning with each thrust.
"Look at me, girl. That's right. Right at me. Ya' gonna have another child for me, got that? Fuck, hell better open and swallow me whole if I don't fill this house up with our kids."
"God damn it, Sykes. I ain't thought I married a-"
"A what, girl? A what? A man who wants to get his wife with child all the time, ay? Oh, bet I do love it, girl. I love takin' ya around with that belly showing, yeah. I love shoving it in everyone's fuckin' faces that I can do a God damn better job than they can."
You buried your face into his shoulder, his hand still in your hair, keeping your head against his. His other hand went down to your thigh, holding onto it as he thrust into you, feeling your orgasm nearing. So he pushed on, knowing what he was saying was helping you get off.
"Mhm, God, girl. I love paradin' ya in front of my brother. Love seein' him seethin' when he knows I get to have ya' whenever I want. All the fuckin' time. Ya' ain't gonna be a God damn day without child anymore, hear it? I'll make sure of that girl."
There was no way to delay it any longer, to hold back when he snapped his hips into yours, his cock making you mewl into his shoulder, in an attempt to keep it down. At least muffle yourselves so you won't wake up the house. But Caleb didn't care; he didn't let you muffle yourself. He tugged your head back by the hair, forcing you to gaze into his eyes.
"Not a chance. Ya' lookin' at me and lettin' me hear it all. Come on, girl, give it all to me. Give it all to Caleb Sykes."
As you came, squeezing him inside you, unable to hold back no longer, he too growled at the mere sight of you loose in his arms. Seeing you reach those heights due to his cock was enough to make a man mad with lust, and Caleb was but a mere man. So when he saw you like that, he held back no longer either, thrusting into you - past your orgasm, until he filled you up with his cum. But he didn't stop. He couldn't. His mind wanted nothing more than to keep going, so even as he emptied himself in you, his hips continued to roll, instinctively almost, trying to push his seed as far up into you as he could.
But he didn't think that was enough. And as he panted into your body, catching his breath, he knew he wasn't letting you off the hook for the night.
"So, Papa is right, you know that?"
"What is Papa right about?"
You shot Caleb a look as you made breakfast. He was at the table with his elbow on it, watching your ass very shamelessly as you tried to get food on the table for the two of you. At your look, he smirked cockily.
"Did Papa and you talk about anything that Mama doesn't know?"
"No, I heard it last night. Papa asked you for a son, and I agree. I want a brother."
You nearly dropped the plates, and Caleb, as always, did nothing helpful. He started laughing, leaning back in his chair with his arm draped lazily over its back.
"A'ight! See? She's got it right. That's a good girl. Tell Mama about it."
You wanted to break the plate over Caleb's head. But in an attempt to salvage the situation, you changed the subject to something about breakfast. The little one got distracted by it, at least for now, and after she was done eating, she went to play outside with the dogs.
But you turned to Caleb, who was still acting all cocky about it.
In fact, you had only turned to him when he was up behind you, with his arms around your waist and leaning down to kiss you. But before he could, you shoved him back playfully, hands on his chest.
"Not a chance, Caleb."
"Difficult woman..." he growled playfully, plastering his hand on the table by your side.
"You know, I've been thinking..."
"So have I."
You rolled your eyes at the interruption, "Hard to believe that you do. Regardless, I've been thinking. Why did you want a son specifically? I mean, I know... I know men want boys because it shows how great men they are, but I hope this isn't why you keep being off the house. You must love your daughter, right?"
Caleb didn't expect that.
Of course he did.
He loved her dearly. He hadn't even considered this. Sure, a boy was usually what men wanted, but Caleb couldn't care less about how many tries it took to get a son. He wanted a boy, but it had nothing to do with how others saw him. He softened up for a moment, spooning you from behind with his head resting on your shoulder as you looked down at the plates you had to clean.
"Ain't a damn day that passes without me hatin' having to be away from my girls."
His hands went around you, resting on your belly with his head nestled securily against your neck.
"I want girls, boys. Doesn't matter to me, I'll love them all the same. I..." He took a moment, almost hurt by the fact he had to make a vulnerable confession, but he went with it, and you could hear the effort he was making to open up, "I ain't doin' an easy job, girl. One day, I may step out of that God damn door and not come back and then what, ay? What comes of ya and my girl? Who takes care of ya'? Junior? Ain't trusting him with ya', I can't."
His eyes closed, and his forehead pressed slightly against your neck. Trying to reach closer to you. To feel you grounding him, anchoring him.
"Want a son, to raise him good so if something comes of me, he can help ya' take care of the girls, a'ight? I ain't got a worry in the world that ya'd be doin' ya best. But damn, girl. Ya' know people are snakes... they'd try to use my girls and I ain't letting that happen."
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Oh, this would be terrible, so bloody terrible. You already spent far too long trying to figure out how to write down Nigel's Starbucks order. Then another ungodly number of minutes inside that Starbucks, trying to get the employee to understand your pronunciation of whatever these funny words meant. What even was a doppio espresso con panna with mocha anyway? God's sake, wasn't it easier to say a double espresso with some whipped cream? And chocolate syrup or something like that.
You were so glad you were only Nigel's assistant because God forbid if you were this stressed with him, who was, for the most part, a dramatic sweetheart diva, you knew you'd sob with Miranda. Not that you weren't about to sob now, too. On your rush back, you kept getting blocked by damn traffic. This was just wonderful. The last thing you wanted was to disappoint Nigel, who had been nothing but sweet to you compared to some other people in the industry.
"There! God, I got it! I'm right here! I'm not late, right? Shit, you have to understand the traffic was insane, and the... the bloody cabs kept blocking me and the-"
Nigel raised his head from his workbench, brow lifted as he checked you out. He adjusted his glasses calmly and got up, taking the coffee from you. He said nothing. Nothing other than letting you speak while he took a sip of the drink. You froze. Did you get it right? You sure fucking hoped so, but Nigel wouldn't make it obvious. His face never showed anything unless he let you in on how he felt, so all you could do was wait, anxiously, for the verdict.
"I suppose it's alright. It got a bit cold..."
"I am so sorr-"
"No. Oh... What's happened to you, though? My... you look like the cab hit you on your way back. You're a mess, darling. Did you look this terrible in the morning, too? God, we need to do something about it."
"Nigel, I'm alright, really. Please tell me the coffee is right-"
"No, darling, you are not alright at all. Looking like this, you really aren't. They will terminate me one day, I am far too generous. And you-... oh, you need a change. Presently."
He called you over with a little wave as he walked past you, coffee in his other hand. The fast pace of this place was something you hadn't yet gotten used to, but that's something you'd have to live with. For now, all you knew was that you had to follow Nigel, so you did. He took you to a different sector of the building, occasionally turning to you to eye you up and down.
"If anyone asks..."
"I don't have them from you, I know."
"No, you do. You can't lie about it. Not when we both go in together. Obviously," Nigel sipped his coffee, wrinkling his brow slightly "They added half a pump too much mocha. A shame."
"I promise I said it right-"
Nigel stared you down.
"Of course you did. Y/N, it's not the first time they get it wrong. Incompetence everywhere, I'm afraid."
You felt that was directed to you, too, and Nigel perhaps sensed the slight change in atmosphere because he paused walking for a moment, adding, "Not here... We don't allow incompetence. Oh- Oh no. No, darling. Don't give me that look, I am not giving you a pat on the back for a coffee- ah ah, no. Come on, let's get your outfit changed. And not a word about this to Miranda, we got that?"
Pairing: Eli Michaelson x f!Reader || Nobel Son
Warning: dry humping, clothed
˚₊⊹ masterlist: Cramped ✧ Tumblr | Ao3 ˚ ₊⊹
word count: 1k
"We can't fit in here together,"
"Oh, thank you for telling me. I was blissfully unaware until you said it," growled Eli as he tried to keep the lab supply cupboard's door shut. He yanked it hard until it clicked, shutting. His shoulders felt the pressure of the door against them, and he tried to roll them slightly to get more comfortable, which was hard.
Especially considering how large he was already.
He was a chemistry fellow, but physics and mathematics, although not his favourite, didn't escape him. Albeit it didn't take a genius to observe that, with you inside too, it was quite physically and mathematically impossible to fit in comfortably. Or to fit in, in general, for that matter.
"Why are you always acting like a dick? Is that really necessary?"
Eli scoffed, his hips rolling up against you. Had this been anyone else, you could've called it an accident, but this was Eli at the end of the day. Whatever he did, you'd better know it was intentional. He growled slightly, feeling the tightness of his trousers acutely frustrating as it kept him trapped. But better than nothing, right? Friction like this would at least provide him some pleasure. So he rolled his hips up into you again, managing to ride up against your butt.
Great how you got trapped in there back to him. Absolutely incredible. How you got to feel his boner squished against your butt, and his hands roughly grappling to make room to catch your hips.
"Shut it. You know I don't like it when you give me an attitude."
"You don't like anything."
"Listen to me, you cheeky girl-"
You rolled your eyes, pushing your butt back, forcing even more pressure against his boner, and he grunted. He couldn't do anything to put you in your place when this cupboard restrained you both. But to your advantage, you could always shut him up like this. Not that it didn't have repercussions. He buried his fingers into your skin roughly and pushed forward into you, his hips gaining a sort of motion that was making him twitch. Oh, he wasn't letting you come out of here without finishing off, even if it cost him the trousers. A stain was a stain, replaceable.
How will he explain it?
That was something he'd concern himself with after he made the most of this.
"I hate you,"
"You hate that you can't boss me around. I am not some stupid schoolboy. Besides, it doesn't sound or feel like you hate this. Or me."
"I do hate you,"
"Of course you do, and still you want to get that A+, don't you?"
Eli continued to grind up against your ass, his belly pressing into you from behind. There was no room, and the cupboard was starting to make some sounds that made it clear it wasn't fixed to the flooring. At least not properly. Moreover, his shoulder was pressing into the door, making it creak, so close to busting open.
Not that the door was the only one about to bust.
"Don't be like this! We both know you never get generous with scores even if I-"
"Even if you what? Go down on me? Take me like a good little slut?"
Eli taunted with a low growl against the back of your shoulder, his movements rougher. Sharper. Causing the cupboard to creak and screech. Your face pressed against one of its inside walls, and it sent a jolt through you from how cold and sterile it felt. It smelt of weird substances, and for a second your mind thought of the possibility that drugs could be snuck somewhere in here. But Eli's erection pressed into your arse snapped you back into sense.
He grunted by your ear. Eli licked the shell before he laughed mockingly. Yet the laugh was not fully amused. It was sprinkled with needy groans.
"You little slut, fuck. The things I do for you…"
"For me?"
"For you, yeah. Not my fucking idea to be trapped in here."
Eli gasped, growing closer with each rocking motion of his hips.
"Not mine either."
"You said the office bored you-"
"Because it does? A fucking hotel would've been much nicer."
"Oh, don't get greedy with me. Enjoy the change of scenery. After this, we're back in the office."
Eli gasped again, his breathing coming back shallower, his chest pressed hard into you, almost as if he was attempting to make you one with the back wall of the cupboard.
"You're not any fun…"
"I'm trying to fuck you, not make you entertained."
"You're fucking yourself more than me."
Eli snapped at that, his hand slithering angrily to your front, between your legs, shoving itself roughly forward. It slithered between your thighs and cupped your cunt impatiently before he started to blindly tease you with his ring and middle finger over your trousers.
"Come on, you little slut. You want to tease me? Fine, there you have it. See how you manage to keep standing in this fucking cupboard with your legs weak."
Eli grunted with frustration, latching onto his tone, fingers teasing you. His hips kept rocking, but this time, yours jerked too with the jolting spark of pleasure caused by his fingers. You tried to reach back and hold onto him, but the space was far too tight, and all you could do was squirm. Eli didn't let you try to break loose, humping you energetically whilst using his fingers to bring you closer to.
"Come on, wanted to cum, hm? Come on. Do it. See how you come out of here on your own two feet then."
"Stop it, Eli. Fuck, stop it."
But Eli didn't stop.
He kept going, thrusting his hips into you until he came, twitching with his orgasm, his trousers stained irretrievably. But even so, he didn't stop until he felt you come undone too. Not because he cared that much to make you feel good, but because he wanted to see how you would manage to keep yourself upright after this, all by yourself.
"I am sure you'll be grateful to use the office from now on."
"I can't stand you, cocky bastard."
"I would keep the insults for when you're spread open on my desk."
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ᯓ★ . Character practice / image / you are threatened and Edward is the man who can protect you.
Pairing: Edward de Vere x f!reader || Anonymous
Warning: none
˚₊⊹ masterlist: Muse ✧ Tumblr | Ao3 ˚ ₊⊹
word count: 1k
"How did thou find me? Silly girl, thou shouldst not have ventured thus far. 'Tis mine hour of writing and…"
"He threatened me! Oh, Earl, I need thee."
Edward's brow furrowed, and he glanced suspiciously behind you before tugging you inside his room, closing the door and blocking it with his own back. His hand went to your cheek, and he grazed its softness with his thumb as he studied your features attentively. He saw it. That fear brewing behind your pupils. It caused his chest to ache. Edward wanted nothing more in that moment than to calm you down and hear the reason for your distress.
"Who hath threatened thee, dearest Y/N? What doth cause thy hasty visit?"
"The man of whom I spoke… the tutor who comes to instruct thee in Greek. He did approach me this day and with harsh words did warn me that before the week's end, I must yield unto him. O! And how grave he was, good Earl. He shall not depart without me; I do fear he shall do more than hurt my honour."
Edward's body tensed, and he pulled you into his body, his hand cradling the back of your head as he had you nestle it safely against him. With his palm resting at the back of your head, he stroked your hair, hushing your distress. But as kind as he was to you, he wanted nothing more than to challenge that scoundrel to a duel and have his head.
He should have known when he first spotted it.
There was no mistake; the way his eyes gawked shamelessly at you was beyond a reasonable doubt worth all punishment. But how foolish he had been to distract himself with fencing, chess and writing, and dismiss from his mind the concerns for you. He thought in his young heart that virtue was a core trait of men. He believed that a fiend wouldn't dare seek a woman, one who so clearly was in the care of the Earl. Even as a maid, she was under his protection.
With you tucked safely against his body, Edward leaned down so his lips were by your ear. He was doing all he could to comfort you while he felt his own blood boil in his veins with a desire for revenge. Even if nothing had happened yet, the very fact that he dared to speak so to you was all that Edward needed to know.
"I shall behold his head upon a stake for it," Edward proposed, and you, fearfully clung to him.
"Thou must not, good Earl. He is a man of repute, and such an untested accusation wouldst hurt thy good name."
"I care but little for such things; a swine as he should have his head brought forth upon a plate."
You clung harder to him, shaking your head no, and seeing your distress, that concern for him, caused Edward to rethink his anger. He allowed himself to care for you for now, to comfort and assure you of your safety there with him, since the man, that scoundrel, would not return until the following day.
"So long as mine name be Edward, that man shall not lay a finger upon thee," He assured you, cradling your cheek into his soft palm.
Your state being as it was, he guided you down and sat you down on his bed. He placed himself by your side, with his eyes on you, so attentive that his care for you once could nearly be mistaken for love. But what Earl should love a mere maiden? Edward let his forehead rest upon yours, promising you quietly that he would have you safe and in his chambers. Whenever that brute would dare make his face seen, he would keep you there, in his sight, so if he did as little as try, he'd have his heart on the spot.
"I shall insist upon a change of instructors, but dearest Y/N, for such an offence, even with word alone, I wouldst fight to have him chastised."
"Oh, Earl, thou must not…"
Each time it was the same. Edward, as he was fierce, young and vengeful, would comply, but he wished so dearly that he could display the lengths to which he would go for you. Poetry he wrote for you, but out of fear of consequence, would read it and pretend it was a request for another.
When he recited those words to you, he did it with such fierce determination that, despite the lies he told, you would know he made them for you. You were the only one on this domain who knew of his secret dwelling in the arts, who understood and treasured his talents.
And it was so that he grew as fond of you as he had. That was why he insisted upon keeping you as his staff for far longer than necessary, turning you into more of a confidant than a mere maid.
How furious he was when anyone would dare to speak ill of you in his presence, or worse, make such vile threats and advances as this foolish pig.
"I must not… but know that, should thou command me, I would have him utter the apology, kneeling and beseeching that his head remain upon his shoulders."
"So fierce, oh Earl."
"Y/N, sweetest, I have asked thee to cease addressing me thus. I pray thee, call me by the name bestowed upon me at birth."
You tried to speak, but when he heard, "But Earl," Edward pressed his thumb upon your lips to stop them from saying more.
"No, no. No longer shall I accept this title! Call me Edward, Edward, I beg thee. For when thou call'st me Earl, I think thou dost regard me as master to a thrall."
"I am thy servant…"
Edward squeezed you furiously in his embrace, shaking his head vigorously at your words.
"No, not a servant. That my dearest is an offence! For thou art mine friend. And I, upon mine honour, do vow to keep thee safe from peril."
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