Ishah✰

“I’m impressed. With all of this, you’d think Lavender was going after Skeeter’s job.” Susan hums, eyes scanning over the leaflets of paper lain strewn in front of you both. 

Ernie snorts as he shovels a spoonful of peas into his mouth, eyes rooted to the ceiling as he awaited the daily post, “What a load of bollocks.” 

“Hey, now. Don’t be so curt with it, E.” You muse, mouth folding into a wry grin as you pick up one of the loose papers, bringing it to eye-level so you could read it, “Look at this riveting slice of writing, Hogwarts Anonymous: With the Yule Ball so fresh in the minds of the student body–” 

“Fresh? It was almost three bloody years ago.” Ernie interjects, tongue clicking loudly as the sea of owls begin to scurry across the plane of the ceiling, dropping rolls and boxes of news and gifts. However, the surge of mail went largely ignored as many students remained engrossed in the new Hogwarts gossip column. 

You shoot Ernie a stern look at the interruption, but continue when Susan releases an amused huff, “As I was saying—With the Yule Ball so fresh in the minds of the student body and love so sorely missed as a result, Hogwarts Anonymous is dedicated to working towards the revival of matchmaking. To submit an anonymous clip of your own, reach out to Parvati Patil for inquiries.” 

“Love so sorely missed?” Susan echoes, eyes blown wide in disbelief. 

“Poetic. Inspired. Riveting. Ingenious.” Ernie utters with faux sincerity, ignoring the raucous younger years fighting behind him. 

You nod, barely able to conceal your grin as your eyes drop further down the blocks of text, seeing a few confessions and messages splayed across the paper. As you continue to read through the text, a sudden passage has you choking on your spit, thumb pressing harshly against the flimsy paper as your eyes narrow. 

Ernie peers up at you from his plate, glancing towards Susan as they both share unimpressed looks. Eventually, it’s Susan who plucks up the voice to question your sudden bafflement, “Y/N? Are you alright there?” 

“Y/N looks like a startled crup puppy in Arithmancy.” You recite rigidly, feeling the paper warp and crease under your unrelenting grip. 

There is an unsettling pause in the atmosphere, as though the entirety of the dining hall has paused in their routine to listen to the confession, but it soon washes away as Ernie practically howls in laughter, his broad frame throttling forward as he tries to muffle his guffaw. 

Susan, ever the diplomat, proves to be more successful at maintaining her composure, but you don’t miss the small grin that tugs at her lips as she reaches over to grasp the paper, “Here, give me that.” 

“Crup puppy? Oh my goodness! That is bloody—Ow! Hey! Okay, stop!” Ernie’s fit of laughter and verbal tirade is swiftly dealt with as you send numerous stinging hexes his way, basking in the alarmed glint in his eyes. 

Susan shakes her head at both of your antics, and folds the paper up, eyes scanning the room as she muses, “How romantic. You just have to wonder who the culprit is.” 

“Merlin. It might just be a prank. Or maybe someone has a vendetta against me.” You groan with exasperation, realizing that just about everyone in the castle was going to be hearing about it. 

Ernie bumps his shoulder against yours and grins, “Chin up, Y/N. If someone’s out to get ya, Susan and I will send them to their maker—without their kneecaps, rest assured.” 

You roll your eyes but nod in appreciation, gaze falling down to your pitiful plate of food as your mind is thrust into overdrive. Hopefully, it would all blow over by the next day. 

Wishful thinking on your part because in fact, it did not. 

“It is endearing how Y/N is always lost during Potions.” Susan reads off the paper with squinted eyes, mouth furling into a frown of disbelief at the words. 

“Does this person hate me?” You murmur, leaning on your elbows as your eyes run across the aisle of bookshelves in front of you. 

Ernie rocks on the heels of his feet as he hums, “Abysmal flirting. Subpar, one-sided banter. Hardly charming. A Gryffindor, for sure.” 

“Well, the only Gryffindor in both Arithmancy with me and Potions with us is Hermione Granger, and I surely hope she hasn’t turned away from Ron. He’ll be insufferable if so.” You grit out, torn between chasing down your secret “admirer” and putting forth your best effort to ignore their future comments.  

Susan hums at your suggestion with crossed arms, Runes homework long forgotten about, “Surely not. So not a Gryffindor— and really Ernie, you can’t let your heartache blind your judgement! Seriously, are we sticking with the ‘All Gryffindors Are Bad’ thing?” 

Ernie gapes at her words and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Guys, I’m over her, we’ve been through this.” 

You pat your friends arm empathetically, hiding your sly grin as you muse, “Of course you are. Poor Fay Dunbar, really.”

Before your friend can retort, the sound of clicking footsteps attracts your attention as a figure emerges from behind the shelf next to you. Your eyebrows furrow as you watch the familiar Slytherin stroll towards you all with cool eyes, hands shoved in his dress pants as he hums, “Bones. Macmillan.” His eyes drop down to where you’re seated and you see an indecipherable glint cross his gaze as he greets you, “Puppy.”

Your reaction is almost immediate as a hot wave of mortification swallows all your sensibilities, “Excuse me?” Your offended wheeze hardly deters the Slytherin as he merely smirks at you. 

“I think your time would be better spent working through the latest Arithmancy assignment instead of gossiping, no?” He asks with a slanted grin, eyes never trailing away from yours. 

“What’s it to you, Zabini?” Your voice comes out taut as you feel Ernie place a hand on the back of your chair, likely eyeing down the boy in front of you. 

Blaise’s eyes briefly flicker to survey Ernie’s ministrations before they glide back to you in consideration, “Just concerned for a fellow classmate is all. I’ll see you around, Puppy.” Without giving you time to retaliate, the tall Slytherin vanishes just as swiftly as he arrived. 

“The absolute nerve!” You utter with indignation, swiveling your attention over to Susan. The girl frowns in the direction that Blaise disappeared through, eyes glimmering as you could see her brain whirring. 

“Strange. I thought Zabini was one of the tamer Slytherins out of their lot.” Ernie mutters, resuming his position beside you as he rubs his chin. 

You shake your head, “Malfoy’s influence is something to fear for years to come. Zabini may have been pleasant in our youth, but he’s been so shifty to me as of late.” 

Ernie snaps his fingers at your words and snickers down at you, “You used to have the largest love-sick eyes for him.” 

Clicking your tongue, you send a side glance at your friend before looking at Susan as she seems to take in your clueless expression. 

“Seriously?” She huffs, eyebrow drawn up as she gazes at you both like she was staring at a pedestrian display. 

“Seriously what? Suze?” You prod, leaning over as she shakes her head and redirects her attention to her work. 

Ernie shoots you a shrug as he pulls out the chair beside you, reluctantly following the girl’s lead as he sifts through the pile of parchments in front of him. 

The next few days blur by in a similar fashion, except you had taken to avoiding Hogwarts Anonymous like the plague, forcing Ernie and Susan to do the same when you were around. You eventually fell back into your routine of focusing on coursework and your future anxieties, letting the anomalous events slip from your mind. 

It is not until you’re organizing your supplies during Arithmancy that your fragile bubble of peace is disturbed. 

“Puppy.” The dulcet sound of Blaise’s voice has you snapping your head up, boggled by his sudden appearance beside you. The boy usually sat rows behind you, leaving the spot next to you to be occupied by Padma Patil. However, it seemed she was nowhere to be found. 

Suppressing your complaints, you don’t even attempt pleasantries as you sigh, “Zabini, hello.” 

“What’s with the long face? Not happy to see me?” Blaise teases, mouth stretching into a small grin. 

You’re almost tempted to squint as his perfectly white teeth glare at you in all their glory. Fuck. Did he not have a single flaw?

“I’m flattered, but perhaps the only thing I’m unable to do is catch you on a good day.” Blaise’s eyes twinkle with mirth as he smiles softly at you. 

Your face heats up so violently that you’re sure radiators across the globe were turning to you with envy. Forcing your jaw from parting so gauchely, you can only sputter out weakly, “Did I say that out loud?” 

Blaise hums wordlessly as he continues to look at you. Clearing your throat, you turn back to face the front of the classroom as Professor Vector begins to rise from her desk, “Right.” 

The rest of the class seems to tick by like molasses from a tipped jar: incredibly, painstakingly slow. You were usually quite engaged with the lesson and content, but you couldn’t ignore the occasional glances from the Italian boy beside you. 

As you absentmindedly continue to scrawl on your parchment, eyes transfixed on the swirls of ink blooming on the page, you feel something poke your arm. Frowning, you try to ignore it, directing your full attention onto sketching your diagram. 

The light poking persists until you bring your other hand up to swipe at your robe, fingers dancing across a sheet of paper with a slight crinkling noise. Faintly tilting your head, you furrow your eyebrows when you see Blaise attempting to slide a sheet of paper towards you. Slowly grasping the paper, you lay it atop one of your dry parchments, eyes scanning across the leaflet in confusion. 

‘Hogwarts Anonymous. Submission 0128: Y/N L/N is devastatingly oblivious. It really is quite cute.’

You feel your entire body steel up at the words, lips parted from shock as you continue to reread the confession. The nerves across your body seem to buzz wildly as you try and rein in the burning climbing up your chest. 

“Alright, dears! That will be all for today. I expect the next two chapters to be read by our next convening. Ah, and L/N, my dear! I need to speak with you.”  Professor Vector’s euphonic voice cut through your haze of disbelief, drawing your eyes away from the dizzying passage and up towards the heart of the classroom. 

You don’t dare to glance at Blaise as you quickly clamber towards the awaiting woman, weaving around the retreating students that file through the grand doors. Huffing to relieve the pressure in your chest, you peer at the woman in anticipation as you finally step toward her. 

“Sorry to call you up like this, L/N. It’s just that the other professors and I are concerned about the recent articles that are being passed around the student body. It’s come to our attention that these anonymous confessions regarding you are quite prolific.” Professor Vector keeps her voice steady as she gazes at you with warm eyes, evidently trying to gauge your honest opinion on the matter. 

It would appear that everyone knew about your predicament. 

You shake your head quickly, eyes wandering towards the tomes resting on her desk, “It’s quite alright, they’re just small statements. Besides, no one has been giving me a hard time.” Which was partially true, but you also did not want the column to be shut down and run the risk of facing Lavender’s wrath. 

“If you’re quite sure, dear.” 

With a soft nod, you send a small smile towards her before bounding back towards your table, releasing a small breath as you see the rest of the classroom was vacant. As you slung your bag over your shoulder, the call of your name has you twirling on your heel. 

“L/N.” Professor Vector gives you a faint nod, “You’re doing quite well in this class. I’m sure whoever is sending those messages is just teasing you.” 

Clearing your throat, you plaster on a reassuring smile, “Thank you, Professor. Have a good afternoon!” 

You practically sprint out of the classroom, mind set on nipping the blooms of your troubles—starting with the roots. 

The clicking of your shoes against the dusty corridor tiles seem to smother every other inkling of noise, many students shifting from your path with wide-eyes as your gaze darts around furiously. Even the slightest hue of crimson drew your dutiful eyes like a moth to a flame, and you were beginning to get tunnel vision. 

A flash of wispy blonde waves flashes across your plane of sight, and you’re immediately beelining towards the girl, a victorious smile painting your face once you see Lavender’s startled frown. The girl glances from side-to-side as you draw closer, shoulders tensing once you tentatively stop a few paces before her. 

“Lavender, good afternoon.” You greet cordially, fingers lightly brushing against your sides as you become wary of your awkward hand placement.  

The girl nods and shoots you a confused smile, “Hi, Y/N. What’s up?” 

“I think we both know why I’m here.” You mutter frankly, head tilting down emphatically as you take notice of the latest edition of Hogwarts Anonymous in her hands. 

Lavender glances down at the paper and hums, “Ah. Right.” 

Sighing, you readjust the strap of your bag as you step closer, “Look, I’m not here to give you any grief over your work. In fact, Hogwarts Anonymous is probably the most exciting thing to happen all year. But, I need to know the person behind all these messages aimed at me.” 

“I’m sorry, but confidentiality–” Lavender starts, eyebrows stitching together in remorse at your clear disdain over the matter. 

Before the girl can continue her, no doubt, enlightening spiel about the rules of journalism, a velvety voice curls through the air around you, “Hello, Puppy. What seems to be the fuss.” 

You aren’t sure any measure of propriety could have stopped you from raising your eyes to the sky as you slowly spin on your heel. A frown briefly washes over your face as you address the boy behind you, “Zabini. Again with that nickname? It’s getting quite old. Originality doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.” 

“No use in fixing what isn’t broken. Besides, I’ve never known you to be overly concerned with trivialities like this.” The boy retorts, eyes sparkling with blatant amusement. 

You purse your lips at his choice of words before musing, “That’s because you don’t know me, Zabini.” 

Without missing a beat, Blaise is quick to step closer to you, head craning towards you imperceptibly as he lowers his voice, “I suppose you’re right. I could get to know you though.” 

Your lips part at his words, but you try to remain nonchalant as you huff, “Hysterical. And what’s in it for me?” 

“You’d get to know me, too.” 

“As enticing as that sounds, I’ll have to pass.” You mutter, taking a step back from the boy. His eyes remain firm with confidence even as you begin to retreat, your gaze glued to the growing smirk on his face. 

As your nerves finally seem to spark back to life, you swiftly spin around and begin to stomp towards your common room, brain muddled with harping thoughts about the exchange. Before you’re able to round the corner, you hear Lavender’s soft voice bristle through the air, “Maybe try a different approach…” 

A few odd days pass after your encounter with Blaise, and you’ve taken to gluing yourself to Ernie and Susan in hopes that the Slytherin would be too intimidated to approach you again. Your friends take the new developments in stride, only occasionally shooting you knowing glances. 

“Weird.” Ernie hums, fingers drumming against the grass as he peers at the paper in his lap. 

You don’t take your eyes off of the serene lake just yards away as you reply, “What’s weird?” 

Susan pauses in her reading as Ernie straightens up and turns to you, “There aren’t any more anonymous messages about you in the column.” 

“Seems that you missed your chance with your secret admirer, Y/N.” Susan hums, propping her chin on her palm as she smiles teasingly at you. 

You shake your head and wave them both off, “I talked to Lavender the other day, maybe she intentionally left it out. Either way, I look forward to reinhabiting the semblance of peace that I lost.” 

Ernie hums as he diverts his gaze towards something behind you, “Peace might have to wait.” 

“Y/N.” Blaise’s honeyed voice dances through the cool air, accompanied with the soft crunching of grass as you sense the boy approach your lazing figure. 

“Blaise.” You greet evenly, eyes slowly drifting across the tufts of clouds meandering across the sky. 

Susan and Ernie pretend to busy themselves as the Slytherin stops behind you, close enough where the edges of his robe lightly graze against your back. It is quiet for a few moments before the boy addresses you again, “Have you given my offer any further thought?” 

“I can’t say I have.” You mutter, slowly fidgeting with your wand as you add, “Do you want me to?” 

The Italian huffs out a small laugh before you hear a faint rustling, “That’s entirely up to you.” Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, but before you can turn around to question him, a crisp envelope drops into your vision. You feel the curtains of Blaise’s robe swim across your back as he offers the tempting object to you. 

Gently grasping the envelope, you flip it in your palm to inspect the front, but you’re met with shallow disappointment when you see the paper is completely blank. On the back, you recognize the Zabini emblem pressed into the bleeding red wax. 

“Blaise, what is this for?” You slowly peer over your shoulder only to be met with Blaise’s retreating back growing farther into the distance. 

Staring at the envelope with a frown, you debate on whether or not to frisbee-launch the paper into the lake as the wind sweeps across your face. Susan is the first to interrupt the calm silence that blanketed the air, shooting you a knowing smile as she points her chin at the stiff paper, “Open it.” 

“Do you know something about this?” You question with narrowed eyes, tone light with jest, but bleeding in genuine confusion. 

“About the envelope? Nope.” She hums with a sweet smile, quickly swiveling her head back to her book. 

You shuffle closer to your friends, shooting them a disbelieving frown, “And about Blaise?” 

Ernie mimes a zipping motion across his mouth as he shakes his head, which is all you need from the boy to know that both of your friends were privy to something you weren’t seeing. Clicking your tongue with exaggerated indignation, you carefully peel the envelope open, noting that neither of your friends were attempting to peer over to see its contents as you did so.

You didn’t know if you were thankful or concerned for that fact. 

Reaching inside the smooth cradle of paper, your fingers run across a folded piece of paper. Pulling it out, you hesitate for a few moments before deciding to bite the bullet. 

Smooth, even swirls of letters dance across the paper in abundance much to your surprise. 

Y/N, 

Lavender advised me that my previous tactic of trying to get your attention was ineffective, so I should therefore be more forthcoming. I hope you understand now. Although it was entertaining watching you fumble about for answers, I realize that time is slowly dwindling as we progress through our last year here at Hogwarts. 

This is not some ploy if you’re wondering (because I know that you are… really, are you Hufflepuffs not supposed to be the most trusting of us all?) 

I have admired you for quite some time. If you are willing to, let’s meet before dinner. I will be at the library. 

Love, 

“Anonymous” 

You drop the letter into your lap as you sigh into the air, neck aching as you roll your head from side to side. Ernie assesses you from the corner of his eye, head tilting at your reaction, “Well?” 

“Well, I’ll have to meet you both at dinner it seems.” You concede with a heavy sigh, realizing that you were the only one who was drowning in the darkness of oblivion for the past few days. 

Susan nods at you with twinkling eyes as Ernie muses with a wide grin, “Sounds like a plan. Good luck!” 

Pacing away from your friends and up the vague incline of grass, you fiddle with the paper in your hands as you begin to dredge up all your encounters with Blaise. They were plentiful in your youth, but between then and the whirlwind of Hogwarts Anonymous— you could count the number of proper conversations you’ve had with the Slytherin on one hand. 

That’s not to say you still didn't find the boy attractive. There was an unspoken consensus amongst the entire student body that he was the prime candidate for bachelor, between his suave demeanor, dry wit, academic prowess, towering trust fund, and neutral political stance— it did not get much better than Blaise fucking Zabini.

For the first time in weeks, you feel that your head is finally clear. An airy aura encircling you as you traverse through the halls, not minding the bustling of younger students or the perpetual miasma of stress that radiated off of your fellow seventh-year peers.  

At the threshold of the bright library, you take a deep breath of consideration before you step in, an intangible veil of warmth immediately ushering you into its cavernous hold as you sift your gaze through the hunched backs and steep shelves. 

Taking slow steps so as to not remain erect in the entrance and cause traffic, you’re snapped from your concentration by the softest tug to your robe sleeve. Dropping your gaze to the chair beside you, you aren’t able to mask your nonplusness at the sight of a familiar Slytherin searching your expression with curiosity. 

“Oh, hi Theodore.” You wave smally, stepping closer as he begins to speak. 

“Y/N. You’re here for Blaise, right?” The boy’s words are barely above a murmur as he slowly shuts the cover of his book. 

You nod and shift to lean against the table as Theodore begins to look around, only dropping your eyes to him once he speaks up again, “He just came in. He might be toward the back, near the Restricted Section. He doesn’t like being around others when he’s restless.” 

“Oh?” Your eyebrows shoot up at the insinuation, unable to truly comprehend a mental picture of the composed Slytherin as anything but smug and assured. 

Humming, you shift your weight from one leg to the other as you dismiss yourself, “Alright. Thank you, Theodore. I’ll see you around.”

The boy merely nods before turning back to his work, but you don’t miss the glimmer that flickers across his eyes as they quickly catch sight of the letter in your hand— it was the same knowing look that your friends held. 

Shuffling towards the back of the library, you slowly feel the confidence draining from your veins as you near the Restricted Section. Rounding one of the shelves, you stop in your tracks as you catch sight of Blaise sitting at a corner table by the window, robe discarded and flung over the adjacent chair as his eyes run across the book in his hand. 

Clearing your throat faintly, you make your way towards him. Before you’re even within reaching distance to him, his head shoots up toward you. 

His eyes swim with confusion for a split moment before they sink into a familiar unreadable look. 

“I read your letter.” You mutter with uncertainty, squaring your shoulders as Blaise nods and rises from his chair. 

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” He softly admits, lips curling up at the sheepish look that replaces your former expression of hesitancy. Before you have time to reply, he steps forward and chuckles, “Couldn’t wait to see me, then?” 

Swallowing harshly, you hum, “You have a bit of explaining to do.” 

“Yeah, I do.” His voice comes out light, shedding away into a near whisper at the end as he gazes at you with consideration. He takes a step forward and continues, “Before that though, I need to know how you feel.” 

“About you?” Your mumble is met with a firm nod, and you feel your heart miss a few beats as the words seem to just glide out of your mouth without filter, “Well, we haven’t spoken properly all that much this year or last year, but I like you… too. I like you, too.” 

“Yeah?” Blaise hums, shoulders faintly drooping as the tension dissipates from his muscles. He reaches his hand out in offering, and you have to give his face another once-over to confirm that it wasn’t an elaborate ruse before you take it. 

He slowly drags you towards him before nudging you to sit in his chair as he smiles, “Well, I’ll apologize for the public messages, it just seemed like the opportune moment when Lavender approached me.” 

“Lavender approached you?” You quietly squawk, not even batting an eye when Blaise crouches in front of you and brings his other hand to clasp yours. 

“My attraction to you is no secret, Y/N. Not that I tried to hide it.” He supplies, eyes full of warmth as you recount all the indecipherable looks you’d received from Blaise’s friends over the months. Honestly, you had merely assumed they were looking for a fight. 

Squeezing the boy’s hands, and ignoring the tingling that buzzed up your wrist from the coolness of his steel rings, you muse, “So… you like me.” 

“Hm.” Blaise hums patiently, assured by your reciprocation of his physical touch. 

“Well, you’re quite the romantic, Zabini.” You can’t fight the lopsided smile that falls on your face. 

Blaise huffs a small laugh as he shakes his head, “I was thinking you’d hold a contrary sentiment.” 

“You better be planning ways to make it up to me, public scrutiny is not enjoyable.” You mutter with a small grin, relishing in the way Blaise shifted at your words. 

He gives your hands a firm squeeze before he straightens up and leans towards you, “There’s no rush anymore.” 

“Who says? I’m fleeing once we graduate.” Your teasing elicits an eye roll from the boy as he shakes his head. 

Leaning over, he grazes his lips over your forehead as he mutters, “Funny, but no can do, you’re stuck with me.” 

His arms encircle you as he continues to drop light pecks to your face, clearly uncaring of the unconventional crane of his spine as he does so. Bringing a hand up, you place it on his cheek before leaning to join your lips together, acutely aware of how his hands tighten around your frame as he leans in impossibly closer to you. 

Pulling back briefly, you smile as an idea balloons in your thoughts, “I’m going to need to find Lavender later.” 

Blaise’s hands draw circles on your waist as he hums, “Why’s that?” 

“I can’t let you have all the fun, now can I? I have the perfect anonymous submission.” You grin brightly, tugging at his tie to draw him closer. 

His eyebrows slowly raise at your words as he leans in, “Yeah?” 

“Yep. How does ‘Blaise Zabini is a terrible flirt and an even worse snog’ sound?” 

Blaise hums and drags you closer to him as a playful glint blazes across his lidded gaze, “It sounds like I’ll have to change your mind before then.” 

“I agree.” You whisper just as his lips sink against yours again, the faint scent of his cologne swirling around you like a blanket as you lean back against the table. 

And when morning rolls around, bringing clear skies and a new column of Hogwarts Anonymous, you can only shrug your shoulders when Susan practically slams the paper against your face in fervid question. 

‘Hogwarts Anonymous. Submission 0283: Blaise Zabini is an alright snog.’

“Sorry, pretty,” he apologized, smiling a touch guiltily when he saw you watching his face. “It’s nothin’ bad, I promise.” He hesitated, briefly tracing the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m just figurin’ out the next addition to the Basement, is all.”

You blinked. “Pardon my math, babe,” you smiled, trying to hide your own creeping uncertainty. “But didn’t we handle that last week?”

“We did,” he agreed with a solemn nod, although his hands moved to playfully cup your ass. “And you were even better that time than the one before.”

You felt your smile grow more genuine as heat touched your cheeks. “I have a good teacher, s’all.” You shrugged, adopting a mock bashfulness.

“Flattery will get you all sorts of places,” Maxi rolled his eyes, kissing your cheek fondly. “But not right now.”

You sat up a little, tilting your head to watch his eyes. He watched yours right back, his poker face still in play - except, eventually, for the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s just a calendar thing, that’s all,” he reassured you at last, kissing the end of your nose. “I’m havin’ some issues with... acquisition logistics,” he said, adopting an exaggerated expression of mystery, complete with a brief arch of his brow a la Vincent Price.

You frowned, still not totally sure what was going on. “So it’s set this time? Not random again?” You tried to keep your hurt out of your voice for your next question. “...I thought you were including me for the ones on your List.” Maxi had agreed, once the two of you had come to your new understanding, that you would cut your teeth on a very specific set of names he’d had at the back of his mind for a while. Names that would still count towards the debt with the House, but that he could easily come in and correct or handle if things went sideways. Broussard had only been the first, and that had been back in December. The past couple times had been spur-of-the-moment, just what was available and feasible for when it was needed. Set names required planning and execution, which was the whole point of starting you with a List to begin with.

“This is completely non-List, baby,” Maxi reassured you immediately, reaching up to cup a hand to your cheek. “This is somethin’ extra, really. I wouldn’t go back on our... arrangement,” he added, still sighing slightly around the word. “I swear.”

You fixed him with a long stare even as you leaned your cheek against the cool span of his palm, before finally bringing one of your hands forward from where you’d left it resting on his stomach. You extended your pinky finger, wordlessly raising an eyebrow as you did so.

Maxi took it immediately in his own, meeting your gaze steadily. “I swear on our shared grave,” he said, a hush to his voice despite the smile that came to his face as he said it. “Okay?”

The warmth of his eyes let the tension out of your shoulders, and you nodded, squeezing his digit affectionately in your own. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, baby,” you added, worried now that he might think that’s what it was. “You just have been quiet, lately. I thought something was wrong.”

At this, Maxi bit his lip like he was trying to stifle a grin, and something about the way his eyes gleamed piqued a dark interest in the core of you. “No, gorgeous,” he drawled, shaking his head slowly as he gazed at you. “It’s nothin’ like that, I promise.” He leaned forward, kissing the corner of your mouth. “You’ll see what I was doin’. It’s just gonna take a couple more days.” His free hand moved to the column of your throat, his fingertips tracing lovingly down the main vein and artery on either side. “Can you be patient until then?”

You nodded immediately, leaning forward to kiss him and pressing your throat further against his hand. He gave it a light squeeze as he kissed you back, holding it until at last you gasped softly against his mouth at the dizziness creeping in.

“That’s my good baby,” he murmured, letting you go. “Just let me take care of this, and then I’ll take care of you.” He kissed the top of your head as you settled back against his chest, content with the feeling of his heart beating steadily against your cheekbone and tracing the scar there through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

He shivered, and though you both kept your eyes on the screen, you felt his hand slide down to the waistband of your black sweatpants, then slip silently beneath it past the fabric of your underwear.

Despite there normally being a rule about intimacy in the House living room (considering any of the Morvants had a tendency to creep in without a sound, out of habit), Maxi’s fingers found your clit, swirling the scarred pads of his fingertips over it in a way he knew you liked.

His hand didn’t go still until you’d shivered against him at least twice with a quiet, muffled whine, only removing itself when his fingers were thoroughly coated in your slick.

He said nothing else about it for the rest of the night, save for quietly licking his skin clean of your fluids over your shoulder.

- 

You didn’t put together what he meant until you emerged from your morning shower exactly two days later. Maxi had already woken up and left you earlier with a soft kiss to your cheek, you’d assumed to open the Mortuary and start his day-to-day, which was fine by you. You had your own preparations to make, after all, and you were counting on him being busy for at least until lunch --

But when you walked back into the room you shared with him, still in a towel, you nearly jumped out of your skin to see him sitting on the end of your bed and waiting.

“Shit,” you breathed, your hand flying briefly to the base of your throat. “Baby, we talked about that!”

“Sorry, sugar,” Maxi smiled, and it failed to look even remotely apologetic. “I would’ve knocked, but I got excited.”

“Oh, yeah?” You couldn’t help but return it with a grin of your own, continuing on your way over to the bed. You took your time with it, watching his eyes widen just enough to be perceptible as you walked over, the smile soften to something sweetly adoring. He spread his legs just slightly so you could stand between his thighs, and you reached up to fiddle with his hair as his hands came to rest on your hips over the fabric of said towel.

“You look nice,” you said softly, taking him in. It was true - his suit was darker than usual, something sharper about the cut. Something else was darker too - you leaned closer to him, curious, and saw his eyes travel quickly between your eyes and your lips as he was torn between them. “...Aw,” you murmured, your suspicion confirmed. You took his face in both your hands. “Someone got out the good eyeliner, huh?” Maxi’s cheeks colored a soft pink, and you kissed the end of his nose before nuzzling it with your own. “Do you have something special going on today?”

Maxi blinked, pulling away just a little, and you could see the briefest mingled flash of confusion and hurt cross his face before he made it neutral again. “I...  yeah,” he said slowly, searching your face. “You... you know what day it is, right?”

You let the ruse go on for just a moment longer, feigning confusion of your own. “...Monday?”

The hurt returned again, his eyes definitely widening now, before your facade broke in a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, baby,” you cooed, your hands running down the blood red silk of his waistcoat over his chest. “I’m just teasing, I swear. Of course I know what day it is.” You smiled at him, something sharper to it now as you wound your arms around his neck. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” You leaned down to kiss him again, and you still heard the tiniest huff of relief as you did so, his hands moving to pull you entirely against his chest.

“Mean,” Maxi mumbled as he pulled away to catch his breath, but he was smiling again as he looked up at you. 

“I think you like it though.” You winked, your hands coming to rest again on his shoulders. “So,” you went on brightening. “I don’t know what work looks like for you, so we can definitely move this around, but I made reservations at--”

“Our favorite hotel in New Orleans,” Maxi cut in, his hands squeezing your hips affectionately. “Which I called and rescheduled for this weekend.”

“...Oh?” It was your turn to blink, leaning back just slightly as you regarded him with new eyes. You paused, biting your lip for a moment as you thought about the rest of your plans with a sinking feeling. “...So that means you probably know about the--”

“Strings you pulled for a catered dinner set up in St. Louis Number One,” Maxi nodded, giving you the slightest apologetic wince even as he grinned at you. “Yeah. I called and rescheduled that too.”

You couldn’t help but pout, leaning back further still as your shoulders sagged. “Which means you definitely know about--”

“I found it this mornin’,” Maxi reached into his jet black suit jacket, pulling out the stainless steel eccentric tipped infant trocar that you’d carefully hidden in a black velvet box among your things in his dresser. “I swear I needed it,” he said immediately, seeing your visible disappointment. “Or I would’ve waited to unwrap it with you. It’s beautiful, angel,” he leaned up, kissing the hollow of your throat as he replaced it once again in the silk lining. “I love it. The handle is perfect,” he added, grinning widely. “I never want to use anythin’ else.” You’d chosen it deliberately for its size so he could hide it in more places than one made for an adult and because it could likely fit into more interesting orifices, and then had your vow to one another engraved on one of the panels of the classic handle in your own handwriting:‘Til Death and then some.

“Maxi,” you grumbled, swatting him gently on the shoulder. “You’re already impossible to surprise, you know that? You think of everything.”

“Occupational hazard, gorgeous,” Maxi’s hands dropped to the back of your thighs, rubbing the skin there. “But just trust me on this, okay? Please?” He gazed up at you with puppy dog eyes as you bit your lip, still a little ruffled by all your carefully orchestrated surprises being discovered. 

You sighed once, looking down at the soft brown that felt more and more like the warm embrace of eternity the longer you two were together. “I’m trusting,” you said slowly, drumming your fingers on his shoulders again. “That you rescheduled everything for a reason. Other than dodging the holiday crowd, anyway,” you added with a shrug.

Maxi grinned, and it was the same dark look that had piqued your interest on the couch. “Just go along with it today,” he said softly, his voice low. “I’ll take care of you. I swear I’ll take such good care of you, Darlin’.”

His hands slid from the backs of your thighs under your towel, and you shivered lightly as his thumbs traced over the bare skin of your hips. “...What did you have in mind?” you asked, once you’d recovered your voice.

-

He’d presented you with a single black box, tied with a similarly dark ribbon. Inside was a single piece of lingerie - a barely present scrap of silk that you couldn’t help but notice the same blood red as his waistcoat. Underneath that, at the bottom of the box, had been a single black blindfold.

He’d left you with a set of instructions, then with a kiss and another hushed promise, to get ready - “Don’t worry too much about your makeup, though,” he’d murmured, his smile sly. “You won’t be keepin’ it on long.”

You’d taken your time with your scent, your hair, and eyeliner for the sake of feeling comfortable in your own skin. You noticed, once you put the lingerie on, that it left very little to the imagination - enhancing the curve of your thighs, your hips, the parts of yourself you knew Maxi favored, while tastefully covering the parts of you that knew made you anxious at times. He must’ve had this made custom, and the idea of him imagining something like this specifically with you in mind made blood rush to your cheeks.

You’d noticed there was absolutely nothing to go on underneath it, which definitely didn’t help matters.

After examining the final product in your mirror, and generally liking what you saw, you followed his next instruction: you tied the silk blindfold around your eyes, and you sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.

You didn’t have to wait long, alone in your singular cocoon of soft darkness, because before you quite knew what was going on, you felt someone who was very likely your morbid boyfriend sliding his arm under your legs and making you squeak with surprise. You had no idea how he’d gotten in here and to so you fast without you hearing anything - well, then again, maybe you did, but it still was just the tiniest bit spooky in how he managed it, even though you swore you saw him close the door behind him when he left your bedroom.

He held you in a bridal carry, and when you wrapped your arms around his neck again, he grazed your cheek with a kiss. 

“Where are we going?” You were whispering as he carried you from the room, but you didn’t quite know why. There’s no way he’d be trying something like this if you weren’t the only ones home.

“Don’t worry about it, pretty baby.” Maxi kissed your temple. “You’ll see. All in good time.”

You’d held onto him as he carried you down the first set of stairs, your stomach dropping just a little at not being able to see. By the second set, you were a little more comfortable. Okay. So this was just the ground floor. The question now was where to from here. You squirmed a little bit at the idea of him either carrying you out to the hearse or to the garden, but you’d figured they were more likely than the viewing room he worked so hard to keep pristine --

But it was none of these.

You recognized the soft smell of morning coffee before you heard another door open, and a cold rush of air cleared your nose.

You realized, as you were descending the third staircase, he was taking you down to the prep room.

“...This is new,” you murmured, turning your head in his direction despite not being able to see him.

You heard his familiar laugh, though there was an edge of something wicked to it. “You trust me, angel?”

Something twisted in your stomach, both nervous and suddenly sharply wanting, and you nodded immediately. “Always.”

Maxi gave a soft, contented hum, and you shivered again as you felt his lips on your neck. “That’s my good girl,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin.

You tried to ignore the sharp chill as you entered a new doorway, shifting slightly in his grasp.

“Don’t worry about it,” Maxi soothed, kissing your temple. “You’ll appreciate it later, trust me. Here,” he added, and you felt him adjusting his hold on you. “This is gonna be cold, but bear with me, okay?”

You hissed as he set you down on what felt like a perfect sheet of blistering cold. “What is this?”

“This is just while we get you set, baby,” he soothed again, taking your face gently in his hands. “Okay? It’s just for a minute, for now, I promise.”

With a puff of a sigh, you nodded, still shifting as you tried to relieve the backs of your thighs not covered by the thin silk (although the silk itself offered little protection to what was covered, to begin with).

You listened to the clean click of Maxi’s dress shoes as he moved around the prep room, gathering things he’d clearly left out and waiting. “This is nothin’ we haven’t done or discussed before,” he said slowly, and you could tell he wanted to make sure this was all clear for you. “All our usual safewords still apply, and I’ll tell you what I’m doin’ whenever something changes. If you want somethin’ to stop, you give me the cue, and I get you out.” You heard him stop just in front of you, and your head turned where you could sense him waiting. He surprised you with a soft touch of his fingertips to your cheek. “That sound okay by you?” You could hear the smile in his voice as he asked, clearly adoring.

You nodded, smiling yourself in your excitement now. “It sounds lovely.”

Maxi leaned forward and kissed you fully, gentle and sweet for a moment before he pulled away. “Wrists out, sugar.”

You held them out expectantly, and you squirmed for a slightly different reason as Maxi cooed more praise. Slowly, you felt something being placed over both wrists, then encircling them - like a rope, almost, but far softer. You’d almost swear that was silk too.

You felt knots tighten at your wristbones, the rope encircling them entirely, and then Maxi quickly sliding two fingers under on each to test for something. He had you move your wrists for him - though what that was meant to determine, you weren’t sure - and when he was satisfied, you felt him take your forearms in his hands. 

“Lift and cross,” he said sweetly, and you did, feeling the rope slide and tighten so your wrists were neatly bound together over your head. You almost went to put them down again when you felt something else tighten above you - and when you went to move, you realized your wrists were being lightly suspended in the air.

“Is that okay?” Maxi asked, and you felt him barely an inch from you, reaching up and testing something you couldn’t see. “Nothin’s pullin’ too hard, or cuttin’ off your circulation?”

“No,” you shook your head, looking up yourself in curiosity. “Everything feels fine.” You couldn’t make anything out through the silk of the blindfold, save for the slightest shifting of light around the edges, but even that wasn’t enough to tell you what was going on.

“Here now.” You looked down again as Maxi’s hands found your hips, inching you forward on the cold table. “Slide off, and you’ll be on your feet.”

You did so, following his leading hands - but when you did, you realized that you were only just able to touch the floor. Not dangling, per se - he knew better than to do that by something as delicate as wrists - but enough that you were just slightly off-balance. “What--?”

“You won’t be like this for long,” Maxi promised, and again he crushed his lips to yours with a growing sense of urgency. “Just for the first part, and only for a bit.”

“What ‘first part’?” you asked, somewhat breathless already between the kiss and not being able to see anything. You gasped softly despite yourself when you felt Maxi’s hands find your shoulders and slide slowly downwards, as if savoring the silk on every curve of you. Your breath shuddered as his thumbs grazed your nipples through the material, before skimming lower, pulling slightly at the hem of the garment.

“You'll see, gorgeous,” Maxi soothed, and you felt his hand moving across your stomach. You realized he was circling you, taking you in as you were half-hanging from whatever he had you tied to, his hand moving from your stomach to your hip to your back again as he did so. You felt yourself swallow, biting your lip at the feeling of not only his touch, but at being so blatantly gazed at while you couldn’t see. 

“Goddamn,” Maxi whispered, and you realized he’d stopped in front of you. His hand found your face, and you leaned into it, desperate by now for contact. “If you aren’t a vision. My pretty baby,” he added, leaning in to press a hungry kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You turned the best you could, trying to kiss him back. “...What’re you going to do with me?” you asked, unable to keep a breathiness from your voice from both your curiosity and anticipation.

You felt Maxi’s clothes catch against yours as he pulled you against him, and he didn’t answer at first, instead kissing you fully. Being in the dark only meant you moaned sooner around his tongue in your mouth, and shivered harder when he pulled away to kiss down your neck. You gasped as he bit your pulse hard enough to bruise, but before you could try to chase him, you felt his hands disappear.

You whined slightly, turning your head to listen for him, and he only laughed. “Darlin’, don’t worry,” he murmured, but you could hear the sharp smile in it. As he leaned in to kiss you again, you flinched softly at something touching your neck that wasn’t his hand. With a soft click, and the adjustment of something around your throat, you realized it felt like a small, simple chain collar, the ring fitted at the front of your throat. Before you could entirely adjust to this, you felt his hands slide down your hips again, and only when you felt his knees brush your shins did you realize he was kneeling in front of you.

“Just relax,” Maxi said softly, and you felt him take each of your thighs in hand. “I’ll take care of you.”

You were only briefly aware of the hem of your slip coming up and your legs being pulled apart before his tongue seemed to scorch its way up your bare slit, leaving you whining at the blistering heat of his mouth. When you tried to flinch away, his hands clutched your thighs tighter still, then lifted them to rest on his shoulders so your feet were well and truly off the ground.

Through the sensations of his tongue circling your clit, driving you insane already as he teased you with the flat of it, you were aware you didn’t feel any strain on your arms. He must’ve been supporting you, leaving you even more helpless to get away. Not that you wanted to - if you were wet before, you were soaked now, and you could feel him greedily gathering evidence of your arousal like it was the water of life itself. Down here, he didn’t bother to be subtle, and the sound of him positively devouring you seemed even more present with a lack of sight. 

“M-Maxi--” All too soon, you felt your thighs shaking on his shoulders, your breath coming in pants as you pushed your hips against his face for more. He shoved his jaw against you roughly and doubled down with his tongue, holding you there with a frustrating strength as you chased your release. You reached the point where you were more or less grinding yourself against it, which he savored with a moan that vibrated against your clit just enough to break you. You came with a whine that built to a cry, panting already from just your first.

Maxi pulled away, chuckling dazedly, and you heard him sucking fluid off his thumb from where it had dripped down your thigh while he held you. “Christ, gorgeous,” he whispered, and you hissed as he traced a finger through your sensitive folds. “I knew you would be fun, but you’re puttin’ what I pictured to shame.”

You were already warm from your orgasm, but this made the blood rush harder still. “You been thinking about this a while, baby?” It was meant to sound playful, but you couldn’t catch your breath enough for that.

“Ages,” Maxi hissed, and he punctuated it with a hungry bite to the inside of your thigh. He lingered there, kissing gently at the bruise he’d just left as you gave a soft cry of surprise, and for a moment your brain was content to just linger there with him.

But then you heard something click on, like a switch being flipped, and you flinched as you felt something buzzing sharply against the inside of your thigh where he held you. 

“It’s okay,” he soothed, and you felt his other hand stroking down your hip. “It’s okay, baby, it’s just a vibrator. A small one,” he added, and he pressed the length of it to your inner thigh so you could sense its shape. It felt narrow, not too long - not anything close to him, of course.

“O-okay,” you breathed, letting yourself relax a little as you got used to it. You paused, turning your head in what you thought his direction was. “That’s going where I think it is, right?”

“Yes,” Maxi laughed again, and he pressed a kiss to your hipbone to make you sigh. “Just for a bit, I swear. Is that alright?”

You nodded, your teeth threatening to bruise your own lower lip as you felt yourself inching towards the vibrator, desperately trying to angle your hips to invite further contact. “And- and what will you, um,” you tried, your brain refusing to cooperate. “Be doing?”

“Oh, me?” Maxi’s tone was coy. “I have to run down to the basement and... handle somethin’.” He said this too lightly, and you could hear the edge of something around his words. “But I didn’t want to leave my sweetheart neglected,” he added teasingly, and you gave a soft cry as he kissed his way from your inner thigh back to your slit, his tongue delving there just enough to make your knees buckle. “Aw, darlin’,” he purred, leaning forward to support you again as struggled briefly to get your feet back under you. “You’re so needy already. I won’t be gone long,” he promised in a whisper, and you felt his hand sliding up your inner thigh. “Just be good and wait for me, okay?”

You nodded, though tears from want and anticipation pricked the corner of your eyes under your blindfold, and you were sure your lip quivered just enough to be visible.

“My lovely Final,” Maxi murmured, his lips pressing a kiss against the tops of each of your thighs. “Always so obligin’.” 

You didn’t have time to think before you felt the vibrator pushing at your entrance, and you half-gasped, half-whimpered as you felt him slowly but firmly shoving it into you. It didn’t take much to adjust around in terms of width, but you knew he was being deliberate with where he placed it, angling it just so. It was just enough to reach the end of you, and you squirmed. 

“Okay?” Maxi asked, and you could feel his hand still resting against your thigh just in case.

You nodded again - your breath was still somewhat shallow, but it was manageable. He had at least turned it off as he’d inserted it, so you only had to adjust to one thing at a time.

Until right now, when you heard another click, and it came to life inside you.

You squirmed against your bonds with a cry; even at such a low frequency, it still brushed the soft spot against you enough to set your nerves alight. Although it was pleasurable, there was no getting comfortable, your thighs quivering lightly even as you stood there.

“How ‘bout now?” You could almost perfectly envision him smirking as he stood up, watching you clearly struggling to keep it together. “Still alright?”

“Fuck you,” you managed, but you felt yourself smiling even as you writhed slightly on your feet.

“You will,” Maxi said lightly, kissing you again before he headed towards the door. “Holler if you need somethin’, okay baby?”

You groaned as the door shut behind him, leaving you alone in the cold, empty prep room with no way to see and somewhere on the dangerous precipice of coming undone. The friction was there, but the pressure wasn’t, and no matter how you shifted, it wasn’t enough to give you just what you needed yet. He was counting on your body winding itself up more, twisting your insides into knots, until he was able to return to you and shatter you entirely with the barest application of pressure. Or making you take his entire cock at once, they were equally likely.

You wondered just what he could be using as an excuse to leave you here, defenseless and prone, when seeing you this way was something you knew he treasured. The two of you had bonded over constantly feeling like you had to project having it all together to the rest of your circles, never showing a minute of doubt in yourself or your decisions. So for him to see you at your most vulnerable, and you see him at his, was a privilege you knew the pair of you guarded jealously.

So what could possibly be--

The vibrator suddenly doubled in intensity, causing you to moan to an empty room in surprise. Its sudden return to its starting pitch left you panting, your knees already weak. What the hell? You hadn’t moved, certainly not enough to brush anything--

And then it seemed perfectly obvious: there was a remote. One he hadn’t bothered to mention to you, but one he was more than happy to keep hidden in an inner pocket somewhere.

“Maxi, you bastard,” you huffed through a laugh. Sure, there was a chance he could have just opened and closed the door, and was standing right there in the room with you still. But when the vibrator didn’t immediately intensify again as a punishment, you figured he probably really had left.

But again: to do what?

The vibrator picked up again, and you groaned through your teeth as you clenched helplessly around it. It ended just as suddenly as it had began, and when you could focus enough, you realized it was just as sudden as the last time, but still not enough to be a real pattern.

So was he just toying with you? Was he waiting for you to crack and call him back? You smirked to yourself, wetting your lips. You could hold out if he was waiting for you to surrender. Maybe make this more of a two-sided game than he’d intended. Maybe if you kept quiet, he’d crack before you, and then--

It was only when the vibrator randomly sped up a third time that you successfully bit down on your lip and stifled your whine.

And it was only then that you heard it: a single, solitary sound from the basement.

A scream of immense pain. 

You almost lost your footing again from shock, forcing yourself to breathe as silently as possible to see if you could hear it again. Had you imagined it? Was it a ghost you’d never heard before, that you were only just now noticing with your developing abilities?

But the longer you listened, the more you heard: a muffled male sob, heavy and guttural, like something was crammed in their airway. 

Just below that, you could hear Maxi’s showroom voice, calm and polite as ever. You couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but--

The man below you wailed again, and as he did so, your vibrator thrummed to life harder than before. You were unable to entirely stifle your choked groan, the pressure at last being enough to make your thighs shake as you tried to keep your balance and at least a trace of conscious thought.

When the screaming downstairs stopped, the vibrations tapered off. You had just enough time to regain your breath when they rocketed back, and the screams beneath the floorboards were suddenly defeaning as you nearly fell to your knees from the force.

Your stomach twisted as you at last put together the correlation, but you didn’t have time to sit with it. The vibrator rumbled to its highest setting yet, and you’d already been so close, you came with a moan you only just managed to bite back as the man beneath you absolutely howled in agony.

Even as you stood there, gasping and shivering, the vibrator didn’t let up. Tears sprang to your eyes as the contact you’d craved sharply became the ache of overstimulation, and you were forced to stand there with the evidence of your orgasm running down your thighs. If you knew Maxi’s patterns, the man wouldn’t last much longer, but it was about to be agony for you in the meantime.

The vibrator continued to press against that sensitive spot on high, and you found yourself whimpering in both ecstasy and discomfort. You wondered how you were still upright, your thighs were shaking so badly, but after you came again - quickly, messily, and hard, nearly sobbing through it - you realized then that the ballast above your wrists was to hold you up, rather than to keep you fully suspended off your weight. 

You realized Maxi was trying to keep you on your feet for him when he came back, ready and waiting, and you found yourself on the verge of coming a third time at the thought. Your cheeks were damp with tears, almost as wet as your thighs, and between the two it felt impossible to catch your breath. You were dizzy, weightless, and yet all you wanted to do was sink. You would’ve given anything to fall to the cool tile, for the sensations to abate --

And for Maxi to return to you with more praise and a kiss, if you were being totally honest here.

Just as you thought you were about to really fall apart again, you heard a last howl that was suddenly, sickeningly cut short. The vibrator silenced only a second later, and you gasped in relief, your head falling back as it felt like all your nerves were white hot.

You didn’t know how long, exactly, you’d been waiting there when you heard the firm sounds of Maxi’s careful tread. Through a haze, you realized he was announcing himself. Trying not to scare you.

You couldn’t help a wobbly smile at the irony.

“Miss me?” Maxi’s voice was gentle, soft, as you heard him close the basement door behind him. You heard him walk over to you and stop just in front of you, doubtless watching your chest heaving under the red silk. He was almost smooth with the way he quietly ‘tsk’ed, as if somehow disappointed, but you’d heard the near-silent shuddering inhale that had come right before at the sight of you. “Oh, Darlin’. You’re a mess.”

You said nothing, feeling a bit too fucked for words when he hadn’t even fucked you yet. You turned your head as you heard him step closer, leaning wordlessly forward for anything he was willing to give.

He took your face gently in his hands, and though your cheeks were wet, you swore you could feel something else on his palms. “Oh, my poor pretty baby,” Maxi cooed, his thumbs tracing the tracks of your tears. “Was that too much? Did you get yourself overwhelmed?”

Slowly, without breaking his grasp, you shook your head even as your mouth hung open in a silent pant for breath.

The way he inhaled through his grit teeth was absolutely unmissable. One hand moved to cover your throat again, and you let yourself move forward as much as you could while tilting your head back, as if to show him the fragile skin there.

“Sharp,” Maxi muttered under his breath, and a second later you felt the cold semi-sting of a blade press into your throat above the fingers of his other hand. It was a warning - letting you know it was there, that you could withdraw if you needed to.

You nodded just a fraction of an inch, and you felt the blade press in harder as you tried to draw breath. When it traced a thin line across the width of your neck, you swallowed instinctively.

You wondered if the faint scent of blood you smelled was yours, a new wound like a delicate ruby choker, or from the faceless stranger who’d likely died beneath your feet.

The scalpel turned so it was set vertically, and Maxi moved the hand grasping your throat to your waist. You stayed as still as possible as he traced a thin invisible line through the center of you, only stopping at the neckline of the only thing between your bare skin and the air.

As he traced downwards further still, you couldn’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat. He stopped instantly, withdrawing the blade.

“What is it, baby?” His voice was all furrowed brows and concern, the cold killer abated for a moment to be the man who loved you again.

“Nothing - I’m fine,” you clarified immediately. You shifted slightly on your feet, feeling just the tiniest bit embarrassed. “I just… it’s pretty,” you said quietly, dipping your chin towards the red silk. “And I’m guessing it was expensive, too.”

It took Maxi a moment to process this, and you wished you could see his face as he broke into a soft laugh. “Oh, sugar.” He leaned forward, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek. “You’re so cute, you know that?” He nuzzled the spot with the end of his nose, before leaning slightly to kiss the spot beneath your ear. “I had it made to be taken apart, pretty,” he explained, whispering against the skin there. “It’s meant to be sewn up the front again, when we want to.”

Something about this brought nearly as much heat to your face as when you’d worked out the timing of the vibrator. To make something with the express intention of putting it back together again - to remake it differently every time, every stitch reflecting something new gained. The very idea took your breath away for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. When he was still silent, you nodded, realizing he must have been watching your face.

You heard him make a small, subconscious noise of approval, then felt him shift so he was holding the blade against your chest again. “Hold still,” he ordered, and his voice was steel under something soft.

You held your breath as best you could as he dragged the blade all the way down, stopping just at the juncture of your thighs, then nicked the two straps at your shoulders so the silk slipped silently to the floor.

You heard again the soft, unsteady inhale that was his tell. When a hand reached up, his palm calloused against your breast, you could tell he was waiting for a moment to see if you were okay being touched there today. He only continued forward after he saw you barely dip your head, and made you shiver as his left hand moved the absolute edge of the blade carefully over the curvature of the other one.

After all too brief a moment, he withdrew his hands altogether, and you couldn’t help but whine. Maxi chuckled. “It’s okay, pretty baby,” he purred. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you. Just be patient.”

You huffed quietly through your nose, letting him know exactly how fond you were of ‘being patient’ some more, and he laughed again. “Wait right here a second-“

“No!” The word was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you bit your lip, trying to repress a pout. He’d left you wrecked and writhing already - you were afraid if he continued, you really would lose your mind.

“I’m not leavin’ the room,” Maxi soothed, and his hand skimmed down your waist to squeeze your hip. “I’m just gettin’ somethin’ else.”

You hesitated, trying to figure out what he could mean — but nodded again, a bit more curtly than before.

You heard him cross to his office and emerge again, and something else when he moved it so it was directly in front of you. You heard it shift as he sat down, and for a moment, there was only silence. But the weight of his gaze was still there, and you realized he must be taking in his handiwork.

Before you could speak, you felt a hand press to the back of your thigh, then another on the other side. He slid them down behind your knees, making you shiver - and delicately pulled you so you were sitting while straddling his lap, your shins against the blistering cold from earlier. You hissed as the fabric of his slacks moved against your sensitive folds, and he made a noise of slightly mocking sympathy.

“I know, my love,” he hushed you. “You’ve had a time, haven’t you?” You felt him running his fingers through your slick, collecting it onto the tips, and you writhed instinctively. You heard him quietly tasting it again, the soft wet sound of his tongue, followed by a thoughtful hum. “‘Sweets to the sweet,’” he murmured, half to himself. “I’ll be damned. …But still.”

You said nothing, your face feeling like it was on fire as you felt him move to reach for something. You gasped again as the scalpel unexpectedly nicked the topmost inner paart of your thigh - carefully clear of any arteries, of course - and you felt him rub the wound to draw the tiniest trace of blood.

You felt him swirl it carefully on your skin, wondering what he was doing - painting you? - before you heard him quietly suck it off his fingertip again. He was tasting the two fluids together, you realized, and your cunt clenched around the forgotten vibrator as you muffled as gasp.

“Here, angel,” Maxi said softly, as if his attention was suddenly drawn back to you. He reached back between your legs, and when his fingers brushed against and then pushed into you to retrieve the toy, you couldn’t help but push your hips forward pleadingly for contact.

“Maxi,” you pleaded, your voice sounding more ragged than it had a minute ago. “I want you.” You felt his cock twitch against you through his slacks, and you realized just how achingly hard he was already. You ground your hips against him again, trying to make a point, and his bucked instinctively back against yours, causing you both to make muffled noises of need.

“You’ve been so good for me, baby,” Maxi said, his fingers swiping through your folds again and making your head fall back in exasperation. “So sweet and agreeable.” He pulled you against him, fully, and his clothes felt damp in spots against your skin. “And so goddamn gorgeous,” he added, his hands ghosting over your skin. “I could look at you like this forever.”

“Maxi, if you don’t fuck me soon,” you said, straining at your bonds. “I’m going to fucking cry.”

Maxi leaned forward, and you felt his tongue swipe up your cheek where you had indeed been crying earlier. “Careful,” he teased, and you could hear something wicked in his voice. “I just might like that.”

You bit your lip, frustrated - until his hands moved in front of your hips, and you realized he was undoing his belt. A moment of rustling later, and he lifted your hips, setting you down so the thickness of his cock was pressing up against your folds.

You let out a groan from somewhere deep inside you, and you rocked yourself forward against Maxi’s hands so his length brushed your clit in a way that felt like sparks.

“H-how do you want me to fuck you, pretty?” Maxi asked, trying to pretend he was still in control of the situation even as you felt his hips hitching to meet you.

“I want down,” you said immediately, jerking your chin towards the rope that held you. “I want to see you, and I want you to fuck me until everything you have is running down my thighs.”

“Fuck.” Maxi’s voice was a growl, and you heard him tug the silk above you so hard you were sure it sheared. Your arms came down, your wrists finally separating so you could set your hands on his shoulders, and you felt his fingers at the back of your head where your blindfold was tied.

...And then they lingered there. You could feel him rubbing the silk between his fingertips, fidgeting again as if lost in thought.

You ran your hands slowly from his shoulders up to his face, and the question on your lips died when you felt something warm and wet waiting on his skin. 

The faintest whiff of copper confirmed for you that it wasn’t tears.

“...I might have let things get a little out of hand,“ Maxi murmured, a touch sheepish.

You smiled, unable to help it. “I want to see you,” you repeated softly, your thumb tracing gently over his lip. You giggled softly as he y it the tiniest kiss before he kitten-licked the pad of it. 

“Whatever my baby wants,” Maxi whispered, and you felt him at last tug at the blindfold.

It took your eyes a moment, after so long, to adjust to the lights of the prep room. Looking away meant looking down, and you realized with a shock that the cold your shins were pressed against was one of the embalming tables. You blinked, looking back up - and what you saw stole any remaining breath you had.

Maxi’s face was splattered in blood, bright red and viscous as it coagulated on his skin. He’d shed the black suit jacket, draped over the far end of the table now, but blood was still visible against the red of his waistcoat and the black fabric of the dress shirt beneath. His hair was a mess, damp with sweat and the mess of the sacrifice downstairs, but what caught your attention was his eyes.

As he tilted his head to look at you with the warm brown of a fresh grave, you could see the briefest reflection of red just beneath. He was yours, and he was with you now in this moment... but something of the demon’s remained under the surface, lurking.

“Who was that downstairs?” You surprised yourself, asking it right at this moment. But the question had come out in a whisper - unbidden, but out nonetheless.

You must have surprised him too, because for a moment, you saw Maxi’s face flicker through uncertainty to a careful neutral. You saw his tongue briefly wet his lips, but his gaze remained locked with yours. “…Couple weeks ago,” he said slowly. “We were in that hole in the wall in New Orleans for that band you found, yknow? And we ran into-“

“That guy from Insta,” you breathed, your eyes widening. The more you and Maxi had been hanging around in the various spookier clubs in NOLA, the more you’d run into some of the regulars. At the time, you’d figured it wouldn’t hurt to make friendly contact with some of them, if you were going to keep seeing them around the scene. Maybe find some people the two of you would actually enjoy meeting for drinks before or after.

There’d been one fellow in particular who’d been perfectly lovely, closer to Maxi’s age than yours and more than happy to join you for a round or so after you’d met a couple of times at the same club. When you’d friended him on the app, you’d been charmed by photos of him and his girlfriend with his newly teenaged daughter - buying her first pair of Docs as a family, getting her second ear piercings, all the usual milestones of a burgeoning rebellious youth.

It was charming until he’d started hitting on you in ways just subtle enough to be misunderstandings, at first, in your DMs. You’d been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt - he was obviously majorly committed, and clearly, so were you.

Until the last time you’d both seen him in New Orleans, and for the two seconds Maxi had left to grab you another drink, he’d leaned over and told you exactly what seeing your tits in the fishnet top you were wearing made him want to do with them.

Maxi had returned at that moment with aforementioned drinks, and was more than understanding later when you explained why you’d immediately thrown it straight into the other man’s face.

You’d thought he’d been just a little too willing to leave Insta Guy unscathed when you suggested the two of you bail to grab some midnight beignets. You’d seen his left hand flexing restlessly as the two of you devoured the fried dough and sugar, but had chalked it up just to being generally annoyed that someone had turned out to be a dick.

Maxi was watching your face, searching. Trying to see, perhaps, if between his eyes, the blood he was covered in, and the knowledge of where it came from, this would finally be the thing that made you flinch from him.

Instead, you leaned forward, kissing him with an unmistakable hunger. It was one he returned just as ardently, after only a moment’s processing.

Maxi locked his arms around your waist and turned, placing your back against the embalming table as he shifted so he pinned you down beneath him. Without breaking your kiss, grown fevered now, you slid your still silk-clad wrists over your head. Maxi pinned those too under a cool palm, and without another word between you, you felt his cock press briefly at your entrance before he shoved it roughly into you with a snap of his hips.

You gasped at the feeling of something so painfully hard invading your swollen, leaking cunt, sliding effortlessly through your folds. Maxi let out an obscene groan from somewhere deep in his chest, his head falling back just briefly as he felt you struggling to adjust around him.

“Jesus, baby,” he breathed, eyes wide and dazed... before he looked down at you again, his gaze suddenly lethal. He smirked, something that made your stomach twist with the slightest hint of fear. “I’d almost think you like me like this.”

You caught your breath, then rocked your hips forward, feeling him slowly drag against your walls. “So what if I do?”

Maxi fell to your collarbone, biting hard enough to bruise he shoved into you again. “Be careful with that,” he breathed against your skin, and you could hear the version of him you’d met in his voice - the sweet, shy mortician who’d been alone too long. “I might let that go to my head.” He kissed your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “I might get too comfortable... showin’ you.”

“I mean it,” you whispered, turning and kissing his cheek. “I mean it, I do.” You weren’t saying this because you were already drunk on his cock pistoning in and out of you, so hard you felt the embalming table threatening to move beneath you. Or his desperate pants against your shoulders and neck as he moved, fervently alternating between sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and harsh nips that were bound to bruise. “I’m yours,” you reminded him, and you felt his free hand squeeze your hip almost hard enough to ache. “So you’re mine.” You tilted your head to catch his eye, waiting for him to look up and meet your gaze. “And that part of you is mine too.”

You felt Maxi’s cock twitch hard inside you and this, and it looked for a second like he was on the verge of breaking. He moved, pulling your hip roughly forward so he bottomed out in you and left you gasping, then reached up and grabbed the corresponding thigh to pull it up around his waist. You yanked your wrists out from under his hand to run your nails down his back over his clothes, nearly tearing them in the process as you sought anything to ground you. His now free hand drifted almost automatically to your throat, and your eyes met his at the contact.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispered, his eyes adoring with an edge of what you could only describe as possessive. “If we hadn’t said no kids, I’d be so goddamn tempted to keep you tied up in our bedroom until you started showin’, yourself.”

“You have other things to show me, baby.” You reached up, tangling a hand in his hair. ’We can only learn so much and live’,” you whispered to him, seeing his eyes again flicker aortic red at the reference. You grinned, and for once, it felt as sharp as his. “But that’s hardly a concern for us, is it, my love?”

Maxi’s hand tightened over your neck possessively, and the force of his next thrust broke you open at last. You downright yanked his hair as your legs locked around his waist from the intensity of it, and you shuddered as you came messily on the embalming table. Maxi fucked you through it, making you nearly sob again for your overwrought nerves, but didn’t last too much longer with the way you were milking him. With a low groan of your name, he broke too, the evidence of his indeed mixing with yours on your thighs even as he tried to fuck it further inside you.

The two of you, finally, collapsed into a breathless mess onto the cold steel. You were grateful for it against your bare back, trying to get air into your lungs and waiting for the black to retreat from the edges of your vision. Maxi was curled into your shoulder, panting as his hands moved down your sides like he was trying to figure out where you began and he ended.

For just a moment, it was at last as silent as the grave as the pair of you clung to the person you intended to follow into it.

“...Okay,” you said slowly, once you’d recovered the powers of speech. You felt Maxi sit up slightly to look at you, and you returned his gaze. “...I can kind of see why that might have been difficult in our usual hotel.”

Maxi looked at you for a moment, blinking, before the two of you succumbed to quiet giggles.

“I really did love the plannin’, sugar,” he said at last, reaching up to move some of your hair away from your face. “I hope you didn’t mind me rearrangin’ things.”

“No, I totally get it,” you nodded, leaning into his palm. “We’ll probably like it more when it’s not as crowded, anyway. Besides,” you added, unable to help a smile. “This was... more than fun.”

Maxi smiled back, enthused. “Careful what you wish for.” He leaned forward to kiss the corner of your mouth. “You might just give me ideas.”

“I’ll make sure not to book a hotel on my birthday or yours, then,” you winked at him, watching his cheeks go very lightly pink. The fact that he could be so sweet after... well, everything the two of you had just done was one of the things you loved about him most. One of the many.

The other was the way that he had chocolate and champagne waiting upstairs in the kitchen, but only after he’d taken the time to thoroughly clean the blood and mess from both of you like it was an act of worship in itself.

(...so I’m probably telling waaaay too much on myself with this piece, but holy shit, it was fun. thanks for your patience, babe <3 

the rest will be out a bit slower than I’d hoped I literally got hand cramps trying to get this one up, but they will be coming! they just might not be as... long, bc I really let myself get carried away here :’D