Archive of Our Own

The insatiable yearning to sin…to unravel…to be selfish—selfish like he once was. All this time traveling, bathed in her warmth, foolishly began to convince him he was anything but a damned, selfish and sinning fool.

It almost angered him that she could make him feel this way. But in that truth, she could never anger him. Just the opposite, actually. After all, her charm had not only him, affected. It was laughable that he—or anyone else—try to resist.

Her kind and expressive nature not only filled him with light, but extreme despair. For watching her, let alone engaging her, was like staring into the sun—a beautifully divine source of unadulterated joy and good nature. But its brightness forced you to avert your eyes without fail each and every time at the behest of its radiating power. He could check, and check again, but that light never seemed to dim. Perhaps falter, in moments of weakness and struggle, but never dim.

Although…he knew better. Even he acknowledged these delusions as projection driven by internal insecurity. So removed from happiness and engaged in guilt himself, he put her on a pedestal. How could he not? No amount of sadness, no feelings of abandonment, no longing for friendship, love, and connection could ever not make her—her. Any “flaw” she had was circumstantial to him and could never define her true nature. Whereas his flaws were exactly what defined his true nature in his own eyes. But hopefully, not in hers. She…pure of soul, bravery, integrity, light, and humor. A true spirit for life—one that only reminded him that of which he lack.

That awareness, however, could not keep him from falling madly in love with her. He could logically claim no one was perfect—but she was. It was ineffable, he thought. This newfound family had kept his head just above water, just above insanity and reckless abandonment of a reality based on goodness, justice, morality, and care. Well…they definitely all got it wrong sometimes, but nonetheless they kept each other in check and together—they truly believed in something. Something good. But she…she made him feel like the shackles beckoning him to drown were gone—if even just for a moment. She made him feel like he could finally un-submerge himself from dread and for once, dry off.

That was the thing though—it wasn’t a moment. It was many, many, little moments. Each tugging, if not piercing, his heart. All compiling to create this bliss he had been clinging to each day. He had been in love, but never like this. To be surrounded by it. To watch it grow in friendship and romance all around him. To be a part of it. Each second of every day feels to him like the day it shall all be ripped away, piece by piece—and maybe even by his own hand.

That thought haunted him. Any time he lingered on her too long, smiled when she smiled, laughed when she laughed, or felt the truest joy and then some while pretending to be displeased with her incessant pestering. Gods, if only it was truly incessant. He couldn’t get enough.

Her leaned over his shoulder to try and peak into the book he was reading. That meant her breath was on his neck. Her constant interruptions. With each came that excitable, joyous face—the one where her eyes would light up and provide respite from the darkness. The endless cutesy yet obscene drawings he would find scattered in his notes, books, and even to his displeasure, spell scrolls. He told her many times that tampering with such scrolls could alter and or render ineffective the spell and he had not yet transferred—

See, now this: he could think on it all day. Get frustrated and flustered—but that’s exactly what he yearned to be. Plagued, perplexed, and vexed by her choice to lead with joy, kindness, compassion, passion, and…zest. A true zest for living, loving…being.

He felt the regrowth and healing of his heart to only cause more guilt—for he deserved no part of her. That’s what he told himself—daily, in fact. Don’t get too close. You will be burned, or you will burn. He couldn’t bear the thought.

So then why did he spend so much time, magic, and mental and physical effort in order to attempt to display just a fraction of his love for her? After all, by now he was convinced she was enraptured in a completely different—sensible, but different—direction.

Simple. He was possessed…compelled and driven by passion. Thinking himself a cold, calculated killer, which he had proven more than once, he thought himself devoid of artistic and soulful expression. He didn’t realize that expression resided in any magic he thought to produce. She loved and admired that about him. She really did, but he only could hope that she did. That she could love anything about him. Just one simple thing. Maybe his cleft chin—he thought to himself with the faintest of smirks playing on his lips. She did comment on it… Harshly, he reminded himself that those compliments and flirtations were platitudes given to all. Wholly unconvinced that she could ever feel a single ounce of affection for him.

One would think he took all the thought he was capable of into creating this room, her room. But in truth, it took no thought at all. It just…came from him. It came from his love for her. Maybe, just maybe, his love wasn’t as tainted as he believed. If it was, how could this expression of all he knows her to be, be so…beautiful? It’s only because she is so beautiful, he thought. All her, and nothing from him.

The walls of the room he had picked out for her surrounded him, leaving far too blank a canvas. One that inspired the imagination to see blue, hues of purple, even…pink. The thought stirred him. He had saved this room for last. He had an idea, of course, but he waited, and waited, for its finalization. Not that he couldn’t just change things at the snap of a finger, but it wasn’t about that. It was about getting it right the first time.

***

“You’re a big reader.” Caleb commented, taking in the sights of Jester’s childhood room.

“Oh, well yeah…” She twiddled with her fingers, “What else are you going to do when…you’re you know…hanging out in here…” She trailed off, clasping her hands together and like she did on seldom occasion, displayed a level of awkwardness and hesitation not usually part of her cheerful repertoire.

His heart ached for her and burned for himself.

“Plus, I had a lot of tutors, you know! My mom always said it was very important to be educated.” She said, heavily enunciating her last word. His breath became caught in his throat. “So, you can be a good conversationalist.” She smiled at him.

“Wise woman.” He was quick with his words and gave her a soft smile.

“Yes…” She replied, looking away from him. He simply let a “mm” sound fall from his lips.

There was a quiet pause as she rocked onto her toes, mouth quirked, thinking of what to say next as she scanned her old room. While she did so, he scanned her face—trying to absorb as much information from her as possible.

“Oh, oh, oh!” She exclaimed excitedly, flouncing her hands near his chest. Instinctively, he held his breath when her touch crossed his path. “Lay down on the bed!” Momentarily, he displayed his feelings of shock, quickly turning into confusion as his brows furrowed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! Just—” She grabbed his hands, leading him closer to her ornate white bed frame covered in doodles. She stepped even closer, still holding his hands. The proximity and quick timing of the movement left him nearly stumbling back onto the bed. Regaining his composure, he sat down, and she released his hands. Until then, he hadn’t noticed how warm her hands made him feel; but when she let go, a familiar chill returned to him.

“Just lay down!” She said cheerfully, cutting into that chill.

“Just lay down in the bed, Caleb.” Fjord chimed in with a humorous sneer over by the door, causing Caleb to grimace as his back neared the plush—also white—bed spread, pink frills from the sheets poking out from the sides of the comforter.

Slowly swinging his feet up and onto the bed, trying to be mindful of his dirty boots touching the spread, he slowly laid back, his feet dangling off the side. “It’s—It’s a little small for me, but…okay, ja.”

Looking toward the group, and longingly at Jester a moment, he settled in and glanced upward. In a fraction of a second, his eyes softened and he instinctually let out a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding in. A weight felt lifted—not removed per se—but lifted, like the pressure on his being was slowly alleviating.

Before him was the beautiful Nicodranas coastline, portrayed in falling and rising blues, purples, pinks, and oranges. A cascading sunset danced above the water’s edge, and the lighthouse beckoned to the elegantly blended sandy shore while illuminating the sea. He saw rocks, and creatures, and foliage, and…her. There were no dicks, doors, gateways, or unicorns. But even so, he saw her in this painting. Hues of blue surrounded him and foolishly made him feel whole.

*** 

Caleb had just finished walking the group through Caduceus, Yasha, Fjord, and Beau’s respective rooms in the tower. Through a subtle gate decorated delicately with a few green gems, Jester was met with a soft, crackling fire. Upon closer inspection, the flames were a light blue with small reddish-pink sparks bouncing off and around the neatly placed logs.

Just above and being lit by the rich and bright hue of the fire, several panels of stained glass made their mark like in the other rooms, all working together to form a truly beautiful mural. She stopped in her tracks. It was the coastline. With the exact same shades of blue, purple, pink, and orange. The same wave pattern. Despite growing up there, Jester’s coastline was not geographically perfect by any means—and from the man with the keenest mind—he kept this holistic imperfection. The lighthouse was there, too. But there were additions. The Chateau, Mama…she thought to herself silently, simply taking in the piece. Marion’s arm was outstretched toward the water longingly.

While she gazed upon the recreation of her creation, he gazed upon her, sincerely treasuring her joy in that moment. She looked at him with eyes that only a fool could mistake. Unfortunately, he was...a fool.

Shaken by the intensity of it all and alarmed by those standing idly by, “Come, come!” He managed excitedly. Pushing open the other door in the room, he revealed to her a well-stocked art studio. Her mouth fell open in utter shock. Paints, chalks, ink, endless stacks of paper, easels, and canvas’ just beckoning her to create with them, all surrounded by white, blank walls; which was so much more of a temptation than canvas for the likes of Jester. He knew this intimately.

“This is for you…whatever you choose to make it.” He smiled.

“I love it, Caleb—Thank you!” Her voice was somehow both a whisper and a shout. “If I put paintings in here, they’ll stay when we leave!?” She inquired excitedly.

“If you wish.” He replied softly.

“Okay…” She whispered to herself quickly and with child-like joy as she absorbed the potential in the room around her.

“Whatever, you wish.” He uttered nearly silently. Just as she smiled onto him again, he remembered. “Oh…” He gestured over to a side table within the studio, ply with pastries and blueberries.

“I will never get hungry while I’m painting!” She exclaimed, a crack in her voice as she beamed at him.

Just then, he felt tears well up in his eyes. “Ja, well…” he pushed open another door connected to the studio, “this is your bedroom.”

While taking it all in, she quickly noticed the room’s striking similarity to her room back at the Chateau. Down to the color of each book's spine on every shelf, the wooden window frames and their design, and the illusory views of Nicodranas from those very windows…

Framed sketches, doodles, and portraits. It became apparent that while at the Chateau, he took in every possible detail he could into his mind and transmuted it here with the utmost magical artistry. Silently and to herself, Beau had thought that this was either the creepiest thing she’d ever seen, or the most fucking romantic thing she’d ever seen. Brash, but true.

Still in shock, Jester dragged her feet across the floor, stepping forward lightly as she took it all in. Caleb chimed in, “I want you to—just like Beauregard—lie down and look at the top.”

“Don’t worry,” he said quickly and blushed, “it’s not a mirror.”

Snapping somewhat back into it, Jester pranced over to the bed. Giggling and laying back, she looked up. She had thought that the stained glass captured her work—but this, this was on another level. It was, quite literally, her mural. Not a stroke out of place and as if it was done by her hand. Her head snapped to the side to look up and over at him. Still red in the face, he gestured with a tilt of his head back up toward the ceiling, incentivizing her to look again. She smiled warmly at him before returning to her view.

After a few moments, she saw the waves begin to move and lap against the shore rhythmically, the few shrubs swaying, and the clouds gliding across the sky. Just as she went to turn back to him, she stopped…and right then…the sounds of the waves, the subtle breeze, and birds chirping in the far-off distance began to fill her ears.

She beamed at him, ready to speak. “A simple illusion…” He felt the need to clarify.

“It’s…wonderful, Caleb. Thank you.” She whispered, still cozy in bed.

***

“Well—” Caleb started.

“This is incredible.” Veth interrupted with both pride and appreciation.

“Anyway…” Caleb continued, “Uh, ja…” He mumbled, feeling need to respond and acknowledge Veth’s remark. “I-I—” He was interrupted again.

“This is amazing, Caleb!” Jester emphasized.

“Yeah…this is amazing.” Beau added.

“Well…y-you,” he began while locking eyes with Jester, “are all…amazing.” He finished while breaking his gaze and dispersing it amongst the group. “And um, it wasn’t that long ago t-that I would have trouble admitting that, but I would not be here without you people. And I-I…value you.” He continued, trying his hardest not to look at her, “And there’s not much I can do. I cannot do a push up like this one does. I do not know anything about horticulture.” He breathed out, looking away from the group for a moment. “I couldn’t find my way around the ocean. I don’t have an ounce of your flair or creativity.”

“Obviously, yes, you do!” Jester interrupted excitedly. “Because you just made…this!” She gestured around to the tower as a whole. “So come up with something else cool, because you just took mine.” She jested teasingly, causing him to blush yet again.

He could’ve completely broken down just then…if he only had let himself.

“You’re hilarious.” He said in the most matter-of-fact, deadpan and sarcastic tone he could. “I-I could not scare the ever living shit out of people the way you do.” He said to Yasha, still somewhat intimated to meet her eye despite the heartfelt talk they shared only a few weeks prior.

Yasha’s question rang in his ears since that day: “Do you love her?” Maybe that…was a more honest reason as to why he could not meet her eyeline.

“Thank you.” She replied with a small chuckle, pulling Caleb from his thoughts.

He cleared his throat. “And you are my best friend, so…” He finished warmly to Veth.

“It’s gonna be so fun to romp around this place, with all of you.” Veth remarked sweetly while looking across the group—motherly tone in tow.

“Are the walls…thick?” Beau inquired suddenly and mischievously. “Can you…hear through the walls—”

“Okay, just—” Fjord chimed in.

“It’s a valid question.” She quipped back.

“Just calm down, a little. We just got here.” Fjord remarked seriously, hiding his laugh.

“I just want to make sure.” Beau replied, smirking at Yasha. A mix of laughs and eye rolls fell across the group.

***

After the completion of the tour, more jests about mirrors, the sound quality of rooms, and Jester’s cat-induced-polymorph-mayhem, the group made for their rooms to enjoy a well-deserved, safe, long night’s rest.

Meanwhile, Caleb ascended to the top of his tower. Before his and Veth’s respective rooms, he uttered, “Fort doch nicht vergessen.” A brass iris slowly opened, and Caleb cascaded through it. “Zu.”

Counting to the last and ninth door, he entered. The relatively large stone room was barren, its most noticeable feature being three beaten wooden chairs with leather straps on the armrests, dead-center under the torch light. Nearby was a rusted metal rolling tray with unpleasant tools and greenish brown dust plaguing the area. In the corner lay a few stacks of molded hay.

Slowly, Caleb meandered over to the center chair, sitting down one step, one turn, and one hand at a time—as if he was carrying someone on his back or had just been gravely injured.

Once sat, he began to rub over his scarred forearm. Hesitantly, he leaned back into the chair and kicked his heels out. For what felt like—and probably was—hours; he thought back to the dinner with Trent. He thought about Astrid, Eadwulf, and the choices laid before him, both spoken and unspoken. It wasn’t until he thought of crashing waves and blue hues that he was brought to sleep right there in that chair.

***

Days began to pass, but wherever they went, he kept finding himself back in that room. In the middle seat. He had crafted a plain room for himself lower in the tower, close to Veth, but hadn’t slept it once. Thus far he had just used it for reading, studying, and working. On a particular night though, he had recalled he made a promise to her. Maybe this would keep him out of that room; if not for the night, at least a few extra hours. It was hardening him again, being in that room every night. He wanted it to. He was too comfortable, and the stakes were ramping up daily. He needed to be ready.

Reading to her wouldn’t get him ready; but he promised her, after all. After having shared a meal as a group in one of the several common areas, pairs started to break off.

“Come on, Fjord! Training time!” Beau shouted, patting her stomach after having finished eating.

“You’re kidding, right?” There was silence. “Please, tell me you’re kidding!” Fjord replied desperately, glancing once over to Jester then back at Beau. She cocked an eyebrow and looked as if she was about to tackle him. “Alright, alright! I’m coming…” He groaned.

“I’ll come with.” Yasha added and followed them up the tower.

“Caleb, if it’s not too much to ask, do you think you could send me to see Yezza and Luke tonight?” Veth piqued hopefully.

He smiled, leaned down and grabbed her shoulder, “Of course, my friend. Let’s go now before it gets too much later.” The pair walked off deeper into the tower.

Caduceus and Jester sat at the table still, chatting. Him with a cup of tea, her finishing off some stale pastries. Once Caleb returned to the main hall and spotted Jester in the adjacent common room, Cad had already said goodnight and was heading off to his room, tea in tow, of course.

“Oh, um—” Caleb began.

Jester’s head snapped in his direction as soon as he made a noise, interrupting him. “Caleb! You’re back! Did the circle go well?”

“Ja, ja. Safe and sound.” He smiled softly at her.

“Come! Come! Help me finish these pastries!” She giggled, wiping a few crumbs from her cheek while glancing away from him. He wondered...did she just look embarrassed? No, can’t be.

“That’s all you, Blueberry.” He replied affectionately.

“Okaaay, wellll,” she cutely extended her words, “if you’re not going to eat, at least come sit!”

“Actually…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I was thinking…” She smiled at him expectantly—fuck, he thought.

“We could, um, read Der Katzenprinz?” He managed to get out. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he continued, “The—uh, I could…read it to you, I mean!”

Still confused, she gasped suddenly. “The children’s book, Caleb! Oh my goodness, yes! Let’s go, let’s go!” She quickly put her hands on the table and pushed her chair out with a loud squeak. She rushed up to him, but as if consciously, stopped toe-to-toe with him, their chests inches apart. “Well!?” She exclaimed excitedly.

He rolled his eyes and smiled, grabbing her hand and guiding her to his room by Veth’s. He did his best to ignore the warmth of her hand.

Once they arrived in his room, he sat her down on a small bench right beside his fireplace—much like the fireplace in all the respective rooms. However, there was no stained glass above his fireplace. The furniture in his room was far more nondescript than all the others. Beyond the stacks of books and scrolls laying around, there really wasn’t much to look at.

“This is a boring room, Caleb.” She commented somewhat sadly, but also with a tinge of sarcasm. “You really decked everyone else out!” She reminded him.

“Well,” he paused, “that took a lot of effort for you all, so no time for me.” He said quickly. “Okay, so this is meant for children.” He began nervously.

“Okay.” She smiled inquisitively, raising an eyebrow.

“My mother read it to me when I was very little. It's called ‘The Cat Prince.’”

"The Cat Prince." She repeated with a giggle.

While reading to her, he kept his eyes trained on the book. But she kept scooting closer, leaning closer…breathing closer. Interjecting to point at a cute picture, ask a question, or just…exclaim, giggle, and gasp. He could barely handle it. Her thigh was touching his, and her hands managed to touch the book, his shoulder, his arm, his hand, his leg…

He shifted and continued, attempting to read each word carefully, slowly—slow enough to savor this moment. Even if wildly uncomfortable, it was still thrilling. Lost in an attempt to focus and ignore, he missed just how much she focused on his face—his lips—enunciating each and every word with purpose. He was so smart, she thought to herself. Even with something as simple as reading a children’s book, he took it seriously, slowly, and carefully. Overtime she noticed he did most things slowly and carefully; she wondered in that moment if he did anything brashly and hastily…

By the end, she had tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away as he closed the book and turned to the side to set it down on the small table beside the bench.

“That was a happy story, Caleb!” She sniffled while saying so.

“Mm-hm! That's why my mother read it to me.” He smiled at her.

“I really thought that, like, the cat prince was going to trap him in there forever, and then he wouldn't be able to go see his mother.” She shared with him, genuine worry in her tone.

“Well,” he chuckled, “a lot of Zemnian stories do end that way, it is true.”

“The Cat Prince kind of reminds me of The Traveler.” She said matter-of-factly, glancing up at him—still leaning in awfully close.

“It's true, isn't it?” He smiled, aware of their proximity.

“Yeah, wow…” She looked away.

He leaned in a little further—only brave enough when she looked away, “A little dicey, but very likable.” She turned back and smiled at him.

“Good in the end, you know?” She giggled, “That was a really good story.”

He paused again, trying—and failing—to resist the pull of her eyes. “I'm happy that I could share it with you.” He said earnestly.

“Thank you.” She thought about hugging him. “Can I have it back?” She asked instead.

“Oh yeah, it is your copy.” He smiled weakly and handed it back to her. “It will vanish when you leave here, though, but it is yours.”

“Thank you.” She said again, softer. “All right…good night, Caleb.” She whispered while standing up.

“J-ja, goodnight.” He replied quickly. “Gute Nacht.” He whispered once she was out the door.

He waited until what felt like enough time had passed for her to make it to her room, then with haste he departed for the top of the tower. 

***

In the time following the dinner with Trent, the group found themselves tracking the Tomb Takers and traveling across the cold expanse of Eiselcross. Noticing an intriguing accumulation of statues, they stopped to investigate.

“You look excellent.” Caleb said matter-of-factly. “She looks,” he paused, genuinely not seeing a true difference—she was still her, “fine.”

“We’ve all seen her mother, I mean—” He followed up, a little embarrassed to acknowledge and comment on the beauty of Marion but…come on. It didn’t rival her daughter though, he thought.

Cad and Jester interrupted, voices overlapping. “You actually look pretty good.” Cad remarked. “My mom’s great!” She shrugged happily.

“She’s stun— Your mother is, a beautiful woman.” Caleb rushed. “You’re a beautiful woman. It’s— She’s—”

Cad cut him off. “Sharper, a little bit though. But it’s nice.” He smiled his wide and genuine smile.

***

Later that same night, Caleb noticed the lack of her presence among the group. Compelled to check on her, he found himself, as if under a spell, wondering to her room. Before he could question and overthink his actions, he knocked on the door. Concerned about not receiving a response, he gently cracked the door open while averting his eyes to be respectful.

“…Jester?” He turned to look in the room and saw a faint light emanating from the back room, her bedroom. The one he had literally created, just for her. He stepped softly into the room, “Jester, are you hungry? We’re—”

“Caleb, is that you!?” She whispered loudly from the back room. He continued in and found himself in her studio. He hadn’t been in the studio since that day, since the tour. The white blank walls were already half covered. His breath hitched. Waves, unicorns, and each member of The Nein. He paused on his portrait.

“Caleb! Will you…come in here!” She, admittedly comically, whispered loudly once again.

Struggling to take his eyes off the freshly painted walls, he carefully pushed the door to her bedroom open, finding her perched at the white vanity he made for her—matching perfectly so to the one in her room back at Mama’s.

She was leaning into the round mirror before her, face cupped in her hands, fingers pulling and pushing at her cheeks. She turned to him and before he could speak and asked, “Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

“I—”

“Do you?” Her voice sounded desperate, but also intense—demanding, even.

“Jester…” He sighed.

“Caleb!” She frowned. “I’m…serious…”

He looked shocked. He searched her face like he had hours earlier, looking for this difference all had claimed was in fact, apparent. He just couldn’t see it. Whether realizing it or not, it was because all he could focus on, truly, was her eyes. That purple and light pink hue. It was the same, and they looked into him—and saw him—just the same.

He stepped forward. He didn’t know it, but she could’ve cried just then. She had been tired of pining, tired of asking Artie for advice, tired of being stuck in her books, tired of living vicariously through Beau…

Through all the books, stories, and time at the Chateau—she romanticized it. She knew she did; if she forgot, Artie was there to remind her that there was more to life—more to chaos. By now, despite the occasional flirt, she felt Fjord was a lost cause. He didn’t want her. If he did, he would’ve made it known. She felt like if she stopped flirting and showed everyone how that sense of rejection really made her feel, it would all come crashing down. Everyone would be able to see her.

With Caleb, he was too smart. She knew she annoyed him. He liked her and was kind to her, but she knew it wasn’t more than that. But…Caleb also intimidated her. She could feel and see when he looked through her and saw more than what she wanted people to see. That frightened her.

“Jester,” he suddenly felt confident, “you are…”

She looked up at him, tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t know it, but he could’ve cried just then, too. Ready to collapse at her altar and never get up again. He couldn’t believe it…she didn’t feel beautiful. He had to tell her.

“The most…beautiful woman, I’ve ever seen in my life.” Her lips parted and a breath being held escaped. “Inside and out.” He affirmed confidently.

She stared up at him silently, chest heaving, tears uncertain of whether to fall or disappear altogether. He suddenly felt the seriousness of the moment and attempted to back track—of course. “I-I mean, I…you know…” He stuttered, unable to exist within her silence.

She stood up from her vanity and he stepped back. So, she stepped forward. “Your whole life?”

He sighed, blinking harshly, his brow furrowing, and upon reopening his eyes, looked to her and simply said, “Yes.” He swallowed dryly as a result. 

He waited for her to turn it into a jest, but all she did was step closer. Any further back for him would have made it look like he was trying to go for the door—trying to escape. He didn’t want to escape. He wanted to be there, with her—no matter what. No matter how much he wanted to jump out of his skin and run, run away to the top of the tower. He shouldn’t be here, feeling this. Not with what’s going on. He knew that, but he couldn’t get his feet to move.

He finally broke eye contact and looked toward the floor. He saw her step closer, and his eyes widened ever-so-slightly, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Caleb?” She broke the silence with a whisper.

“Ja?” He looked up from the floor, unprepared to see her face all that much closer.

“Do you…?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say…” She trailed off, the faintest chuckle mixed with unease playing on her tone.

“The answer is yes.” He stepped forward, leaving them just mere inches apart. “For you, my answer is always yes.” By the end, he sounded out of breath, silenced by her proximity.

“Even if…I ask for something, bad?” She asked, sounding worried.

“Yes.” He said confidently. She looked away, “But you, bad? Never.” He smiled lightly while reminding her.

She wanted to speak but nothing came out. She looked back and found him scanning her—looking for what to make of this situation. She bit her bottom lip, glancing back at his bright eyes. They were so bright…like a crackling fire beckoning her to go and get warm.

Emboldened by their closeness, he raised a hand and touched her cheek with his knuckles softly. “You’re so beautiful, Jester.”

“Cal—”

Quickly, he closed the distance between them and gently pressed his lips against hers. Stunned momentarily, her eyes widened. Just as he was starting to pull away, she reacted. Her lips pursed gently and her eyes fluttered closed. It was so gentle. They both opened their eyes and maintained the close distance, warmth radiating from each of them.

“I’m sor—” He began, but before he could continue, she came crashing down upon him, like the waves in her mural—soft and bright, but brash all the same.

She threw her arms around his neck, beginning to weave her fingers into the hair near the nape of his neck. Still shocked, it took him a moment to react in kind. But when he did…

She let out a gasp as his hands gripped her waist and brought her close, pressing her firmly against his taut stomach, causing her neck to further tilt as she reached to meet his lips. She moaned softly against him as his hands ran down the sides of her waist to her hips, applying more pressure between them. She gripped at his hair tighter, causing them to part and a sharp breath to escape from his lips.

“Jester…” He exhaled as she stared up at him longingly. This time, he rushed to her, foot pushing forward as hers stumbled back. His warm hands cupped the sides of her face as he kissed her passionately, heads further tilting as they melted into the kiss. Just then, her hands had dropped from his hair to allow room for his. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and used the moment to run her hands along the length of his back, feeling the thin and soft leather of his coat, but also his broad and lean shoulders beneath.

With one step, and another, he stepped them back until she reached the edge of her vanity. Breaking away again, he noticed the red and purple flush creeping up her chest and neck, and the sheen of sweat, too. He could only imagine how he looked in that moment. Overwhelmed? Desperate? Most definitely, beet red.

He didn’t care. Bending over slightly, he gripped the back of her thighs and lifted her onto the vanity in one swift movement. She gasped and giggled quietly, her noises laced with shock and surprise—almost realizing who it was that just pulled a move out of one of her many books. Before too many thoughts could enter the mind of either of them, his hand came up and rested on the side of her neck, fingertips slowly inching into her hair.

As he did so, she had been looking at the flush filling his cheeks, his neck, his collarbones… She stared down at the worn long sleeve under his coat. Wondering what his chest, stomach, and hips looked like in this moment. She wondered…taut and flexed? Flushed?

He noticed her wandering eye as he stared into hers. By now, the fingers on his right hand were tangled within the hair at the nape of her neck. Not roughly, but purposefully, he swiftly tightened his grasp, causing her head to fall back slightly—her eyes widened but remained soft in their gaze as her lips parted.

“Kiss me.” Was all she could think to say. He rushed down to meet her, and as she continued to slip into this vulnerable state, their kisses increased in vigor. Steering her with a fistful of her hair, he pressed into her until her legs were wrapped around him. She felt his tongue brush against hers lightly. Reeling from the initial shock, she leaned into it and opened herself up to him. They both let out a series of small sighs, groans, and moans—all but silenced by their unbroken kiss.

Eventually his left hand explored her side, gripping at her waist and hip. Anytime she thought she felt him even start to pull away, she gripped at the lapels of his coat, pulling him in closer, making sure to squeeze her legs tighter around him—as if begging him to never stop kissing her.

He finally broke away, “W-wait, wa—” She kissed him again. He gripped her face in turn, “Jester, wait—” He said, his forehead pressed against hers. He could taste her on his tongue, smell her all around him—he felt like he was going to suffocate.

“W-what?” She asked nervously, chest heaving.

“I’m not— This isn’t…I shouldn’t—” With their bodies still close, he looked away.

“Caleb, what are you—”

“I’m not…” He paused before finally meeting her eyes again, “I’m not a good man, Jester.” He sighed, “We can’t—”

“W-what? What are you saying?” She chastised. “You are, Caleb. You are.” Her thumb stroked his cheek.

This was all simply…too much. Trent, the Tombtakers, Lucien, Essek, Aeor, the Empire…it was all closing in. He needed to be strong, and she made him weak—so, weak. He had been waiting for his knees to buckle. “I should—” He began, but a voice called out.

“Jester! …Jester, where are you!? Dinner’s ready, hurry up!” The voice called from down the hall—probably Beau’s. It was faint, but they both definitely heard it.

Such a call caused him to quickly step out from between her legs. Intensely, that familiar chill returned to him. “I’m s-sorry, I’m—” He stammered and with that, was headed out of her bedroom, through the studio, and out.

“Jess!” The voice shouted again, much closer now. By then, he had already turned out into the hall and was heading in the opposite direction of the voice. Glancing over his shoulder, he got his confirmation that it was Beau. He continued down the hall regardless.

“Hey, Caleb! Seen Jester?” He stopped and gritted his teeth, furious with himself for how he just left her.

“U-uh, no.” He answered quickly, not fully turning around.

“Oh, okay…so you just go into people’s rooms when they’re not there?”

“I—”

“I’m just fucking with you, dude. Was she in there? I can’t find her.”

“Uh, ja.” Beau raised an eyebrow at him as if to say, huh? She expected his answer to be no.

“I, uh…went to check on her, but, she was busy so I…left.”

“O-kay.” Beau remarked awkwardly. “Well, dinner’s on. Come join us.”

“Sure, ja. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

***

Jester stayed a moment, still sat on her vanity, although now slumped at the shoulders rather than at attention. She reached up to feel her bottom lip, and despite being confused, worried, and somewhat sad all wrapped into one, she managed to giggle to herself. Momentarily, she nervously chewed on the nail of her index finger, replaying the moment to herself.

She could still feel his hands on her waist, hips, face, and neck…his hand tangled in her hair. She breathed out sharply, trying to ignore the subtly sweet burning sensation on her lips, cheeks, and chin from his stubble. It was somehow sharp yet still soft—and she could still feel it.

In that moment, she imagined that same sensation on her neck, down her chest, or better yet, between her thighs. She squirmed at the thought, and when she did, she recognized the degree to which her thin cotton panties were soaked and sticking to her—the result from reading her novels paling in comparison to now. Despite being alone, abashed embarrassment crept in. She balled up her hands and pushed her skirt down further between her legs as she looked up toward the ceiling. Quickly and quietly, she sucked in a breath—the mural.

“Jess?” Beau inquired softly, gently tapping on her bedroom door with a single knuckle.

“Oh, my—Beau! Hi!” Jester replied in shock, jumping down from her vanity and quickly smoothing her dress down with both hands. Only then did she notice how high her loose layers had been hiked up from having him between her legs.

“Everything, o-kay…?” Beau asked, a similar awkward cadence present that she used with Caleb moments earlier.

“Y-yeah! I was…sending a message to Mama! You know, to check on her.” Jester smiled nervously.

“Oh, okay.” Beau said calmly. “Makes sense that Caleb said you were busy.”

“C-Caleb?” Jester’s voice cracked.

“Yeah, he was just out in the hall looking for you.” Beau quirked an eyebrow, “Hey, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Y-yeah, promise, Beauuu!” Jester teased.

“Okay, okay. Good. Well, let’s go eat!”

“Sure—yes, of course! Just, give me one second. I have one last message I need to send.”

“Okay, Jess.” Beau smiled and gently patted Jester’s arm before heading out.

***

He believed that she didn’t want to kiss him…she just wanted to be kissed. Who cares? Was the follow-up thought that crossed his mind. But…he did. He cared. He loved her. He wanted her to want him in the way he desired her, if that was even possible. After all, he had built it up so greatly in his mind that at the first instance of passion, he bolted. He reminded himself that he was a fucking coward, tried and true.

All these thoughts racked his mind…but he knew he had to see himself down for dinner, otherwise the group would suspect something was wrong. To be inquired upon or searched for right now…he couldn’t handle it. Any moment he spent actively trying to stop demoralizing himself and the situation, he could feel her. Touching him, pulling him in and not letting him go. He started to picture her beneath him—saying his name—pulling him down, desperate for his lips on hers.

He had to stop. He managed all these little moments over the months and months of travel. This would be his undoing; he wanted to flee, to run…and to never come back. Go find Trent or die trying. He clutched his scared forearm and right as he did, the voice of a little blue tiefling sounded in his mind.

“Caleb…please come down for dinner.”

He wanted…to collapse at her alter, and never get up again…

***

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong?” Beau finally inquired, gesturing toward Caleb, who was slowly pushing around some vegetables on his plate.

“Beauregard, not now.” He chided.

The rest of the group was chatting down at the other end of the table. Except, and unusually so, Jester was silent, her utensils unmoving in her hand.

“Caleb…?” Veth chimed in, closer to the pair.

“It’s…nothing. I promise.” He gave a weak smile from one corner of his mouth to Veth.

“Bullshit, you’re being weird. And, you were being weird earlier. So, what’s up?” Beau pried but Caleb ignored her. Beau looked to Veth confused and Veth earnestly shrugged—most likely assuming that the nature and stakes of the latest events were weighing on Caleb. Things usually did, weigh on him.

Mistakenly, he glanced toward her. Fuck. He thought back to a moment from many weeks ago now, her glum expression prompting the memory.

***

“Hey…” Caleb started softly, approaching Jester and Nott in the main hall of the Xhorhaus.

“Me!” Jester reacted, seemingly trying to force her usual cheer. Nott, Caleb, and Jester’s voices all overlapped. “I thought you were looking for Nott.” Jester said, as Caleb interjected with, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother yo—” Lastly, but still before Caleb could finish, Nott threw her hands up with a sly smirk and simply said, “I’ll leave.”

“No, it’s okay. I was just thinking—” Jester began, but Caleb responded to Nott who was already stepping away from them, “Good— …Good night.”

Turning back to Jester, “I was—” Caleb started but then stopped and sighed. “You look like you’re…knocking yourself a little bit and um, I don’t think you should.” She softly smiled at him, but he continued before she could reply, “Do you know what I think about the Traveler?” She beamed up at him, genuinely curious. “I think that he…is lucky to have you.” He waited before continuing, “I’m the transmutation wizard, but you’re the one who changes people. I see it every day.”

“Really?” She asked weakly, but still with joy in her tone.

“Yeah.” He affirmed. “You’re…a good friend, and you move people. I don’t know if you see that, but you do, every day.”

“Thank you.” She whispered as her lips tilted into a bigger smile, but there was still uncertainty in her eyes.

“No, thank you.” He spoke both quickly and confidently.

“Can I tell you something?” She asked suddenly.

“Y-yeah.”

“Earlier…we were in the park, and I was trying to talk to the Traveler, I even bought him ice cream…” She continued, “And…he didn’t come. To be honest, it’s one of the first times I didn’t feel him near me, and I wondered, maybe I’m not doing a very good job—of you know—being a cleric to him—or whatever.” She shook her head as she rambled, not meeting Caleb’s eyes.

“Y-you’re trying to bring more people into the fold?” He asked.

“See!” She responded quickly. “That’s the thing, like…you know when I set out, when I left mama…I didn’t—I didn’t leave with a goal of like…recruiting a bunch of people to, to this religion, you know? I just…I had this good friend. That kind of, saw me…through my life and…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Well, maybe Traveler Con will—”

“Yeah…” She cut him off.

“Help with that…” He finished.

“Yeah, maybe it will.” She affirmed.

“I-I don’t know anything about faith, I am learning from…you. A-and the others in the group. But it seems, inexplicable.”

“Yeah…”

“Otherwise, it wouldn’t be faith.” He ended, smiling gently.

“Well, if you ever want to worship the Traveler, you know you can just…” She paused, smiling weakly, “He’s really cool.”

“Well, everybody kind of made sport in there, but we are all low-key acolytes of the Traveler, you realize that, don’t you?” He asked, searching her eyes.

“Yeah…”

“I mean, we’re with you.” He reminded her.

“You see his power every day.” She replied back to him but in truth was reminding herself, almost unsure.

“Every day.” He nodded. “I believe I have no choice.” He smiled, a hint of a chuckle escaping his mouth.

“Sometimes, I wonder if…maybe he doesn’t come around as much, because he sees—you know—I have some friends now, and h-he doesn’t need to be here as much.”

“That seems like a good theory.” He smiled warmly, thinking to himself that even when scared, unsure, and seeking an affirmation of faith, she chose to lead with optimism and positive assumptions of her patron.

“Also, Traveler Con is coming, so maybe preparations are underway on a cosmic level of some sort.” He continued while chuckling softly.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s true.” She smiled back at him, seeming more at ease now.

“Y-you know I think we should go to bed, but I want to show you something that um, I’ve been working on.” She smiled expectantly, waiting for him to continue, “Uh, I don’t know what you have planned for Traveler Con, but if I can help in any way with something like this…” With a gentle motion from each of his hands in unison, small sparkling lollipops and tiny hamster unicorns, all a bright amber color, began floating around and between the two of them—the warm light illuminating their eyes. “I-I just figured this out a couple of weeks ago, so I don’t know if you neeed…” he extended his words, a larger smile fighting its way onto his lips, “effects, or…decorations, or—”

“I mean,” she was in shock, “it’s…beautiful!” She began to get excited as she admired the arcane beauty in front of her. He saw her, she thought—like the Traveler did. “If I did like a performance or something—you know—like maybe if, if we play our musical instruments and like…you can have this, you know like, around us, it’ll be like this amazing…thing!”

As she rambled, excitement filling her body and joy filling her tone, he watched her. He relished in her joy. “Yes!” He replied quickly and suddenly, realizing his silence. “I-I don’t know, I’m not a performer.” He added, one of his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“This is wonderful, Caleb!” She beamed.

“But…” he interjected, “you have done so much for m—all of us, that, of course we should do this for you.” All he could think about was his desire to kiss her. “You deserve it.”

“Thank you!” She said somehow quietly but with intense excitement as she wrapped him into a big hug by throwing her arms up and over his shoulders.

In an instant, he felt her bangs tickling at his exposed collarbone and neck, the hair on the top of her head doing the same but against his chin and jaw, the warmth of her arms resting on his shoulders and touching his neck, her chest pressed up against him… After hesitating, he gently placed his arms around her waist. He stiffened because once she felt his arms against her, she squeezed him tighter.

“Ja, okay.” He said quickly and broke away from her. He could’ve stayed like that forever. “Good night.”

“Thank you…” She said softly once more as he walked off and down the hall.

*** 

This was worse, so much worse…compared to then. But in truth, it was the same. He ran from intimacy, and he ran fast. It took so much from him to even be engaged in this found family. To let them in. But to let her in, like that, beckoned him to run and never look back.

Veth continued with her meal, as did Beau, but Beau kept her eye trained on him—trying to discern the true reason for his palpable discomfort.

At the other end of the table, a voice sounded. “Jessy?” Fjord inquired, sitting across from her.

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you…alright? You seem—”

“Mm-hm!” She mumbled, finally taking a bite off her food and raising her brows as if to say, “See? I’m fine!”

Caleb watched them interact from the corner of his eye—like he always did. He knew how she felt about him—everyone did. The more he denied how angry it made him only furthered his disdain. He thought Fjord more flippant and naive than Jester could ever be, or than people always made her out to be. Caleb secretly loved the darker parts of Jester—as it foolishly made him think she could love any part of him, each and every part tainted.

This could never supersede his ultimate love for her joyous self though, but he loved and thought of that part of her nonetheless—it aided him in rationalizing his love for her. If he didn’t rationalize every aspect of his life and his decisions, all of the walls he had built to be sane would come crumbling down.

His anger and distance from Fjord helped ease his love for her; it was better to be angry and jealous of him than desperately in love with her. Caleb had hoped Fjord was the most oblivious person to walk the continent; because if he wasn’t, there was some other reason he was holding back from her. He saw how Fjord looked and lingered on her, and it only made him worried that he was being noticed, too.

He thought Fjord a fool for being perceptively indifferent to the countless times she threw herself at him. It pained Caleb to watch, her loneliness and desire for connection spilling out each time. He knew how much it pained her when Avantika happened. He wouldn’t give into her appeal, but would use this thing she was so curious about, for a persuasive advantage? He was quick to give in, Caleb thought. Keeping Jester at an arm's length was a sin in Caleb’s mind; one he participated in, sure, but not as frequently as Fjord. Being so critical…it helped ease the pain of it all. In truth, Caleb both envied and respected Fjord, but he’d be damned if watching him repeatedly reject Jester’s advances wasn’t the most infuriating part of any given day with the group. No…the irony hadn’t yet dawned on Caleb.

Slowly still chewing, Jester noticed how dry her mouth was. After swallowing, she bit her bottom lip, squeezing her legs together. She hadn’t stopped thinking about it. To her credit, it’d barely been an hour since it happened. She could feel his hair and the leather of his coat on her fingertips, the smell of paper and ink coming off him. Beyond casting masterful spells and showing intellectual prowess, it had been one of the most confident states she’d seen him in—felt him—in. He was much more assertive than she imagined he would be.

She thought of how he did what she asked. “Kiss me.” And he was there, obeying her command without hesitation. She wondered what else he would do if asked…

***

Eventually, everyone finished their meal, or finished pecking at it, that is. Cad, Jester, and Caleb stuck around the longest to clean up.

“Would either of you like some tea?” Cad asked the pair.

“No, thank you, Cad.” Jester smiled back at him thoughtfully.

“Nein, thank you.” Caleb said quickly with a flat smile and quick nod.

“Okay.” Cad replied with his large and sheepish smile, taking his kettle with him. “Let me know if you change your mind.” He remarked carefully, looking at each Jester and Caleb. “Either of you.” Silently, they both nodded, fighting the urge to look at one another. Cad smiled and was off.

The pair silently picked up the various plates from the table, mindful to trail behind the other and not get too close. Carefully and quietly, they stacked plates and utensils into a large basin to be cleaned up later.

His mind was screaming for him to say something, say anything—but he remained silent. He didn’t know what to say let alone how to. Unusual for her, she remained silent, too, deciding to leave the rest of the plates for Caleb and instead took the various cloths and mugs scattered around the table.

Feeling confused, defeated, and ready to leave the room, he spoke—pulling her out from that state. “I-I’m” he began, sighing deeply, “I’m sorry.”

She turned to him with a sad expression, causing him to take note of her pout. This was no time to think about how cute she was, but he did, nonetheless.

“I-I,” his hands were shaking, “I have n-no reason, I just—” She looked up at him, confused, but still decided to step closer. There was a pause. “I-I’m so, so, scared, Jester.”

“Scared of what?” She asked genuinely, confused.

His voice rose, “Scared of losing you!” He sighed, lowering his voice, “I-I mean, I’ve already told you. You’ve changed me, Jester.” She let out a breath she was holding, her eyes eagerly fixed on his. “I can’t lose that—I won’t.” He affirmed, trying to harden himself again.

“You can’t…” she reminded him softly, “not if you don’t want to…”

“But that’s the thing!” He replied, his frustration rising. “I—”

She stepped closer, grabbing one of his shaking hands by his side and held it in both of hers. “I’m…yours, I—I’m pathetically y-yours…” He said weakly and in a whisper. “If people k-know that…they’ll—” His voice began to rush and she squeezed his hand. “I-it’s a weakness. Y-you’re my—”

“Caleb…” She interrupted calmly. “We,” she looked past him toward the hall—implying the whole of the group—and then looked back to him, taking a long pause, “are each other’s strength.”

He sighed and looked away, struggling to believe her words. She dropped his hand and he quickly looked to her, the instant recognition of the loss of her touch increasing the pain he felt in that moment. “N-not just that, I’m not, I—” He struggled to form the words. What was the point? She wouldn’t believe him anyway. She saw the good in him; she saw the good in everyone.

“Do you think…I’m not scared?” She asked in a whisper, furrowing her brow. “Fucking terrified, actually?” She laughed, a crack in her voice. “To lose…every single one of you?” She shivered and swallowed, looking away from him. “We have all put our lives on the line for each other.” She said as she looked back up at him. “We have fallen for each other…” She grimaced, thinking about the current state of Molly. “I know, we would do it again, a million times over. I know you’d—”

“Without hesitation.” He said softly while shaking his head, like he was admitting a sin aloud.

“Then why can’t you just—” She started quickly, anxiety pushing into her tone—the anticipation surrounding them peaking.

“I want to, Jester.” He interrupted her in a low tone, holding his gaze with hers.

Breaking the intense eye contact, she looked around confused and frustrated, “Then just—”

And he did. Quickly, he closed the gap between them, taking her face in his hands and crashing his lips to hers like she had his hours before. Desperate, he clung to her and savored the gentle “Mmm” that escaped her lips. Her arms felt like pudding, and she hadn’t yet fully reacted. As his hands slid down her face and behind her neck, hers went up together toward his chest. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in closer.

They parted briefly and pressed their foreheads against one another, pants and small sharp breaths escaping their lips. Out of breath she emphasized, “Don’t stop.” Her tone was quiet but demanding.

“I won’t.” He responded while staring back at her, releasing one last huff before finding her lips again. As he did in her bedroom, with a hand keeping her steady by the small of her back, he stepped back toward the nearest counter in the kitchen. These counters were noticeably taller than the low vanity in her room. She could sense that he was thinking and decided to take that moment of hesitation as an opportunity to gently bite his bottom lip. A groan escaped his lips as he pressed his body further into hers, the pressure she felt from both him and the counter increasing.

Grabbing the hair at the nape of her neck, he pulled just hard enough to break them apart. Her mouth was open and lips already swollen. He looked away from her lips and back into her eyes, almost taken aback by the darkness within, pupils blown. “Touch me.” She whispered, anticipation lacing her tone. Jester was not good about hiding her feelings—this, he knew. But in this moment, he supposed he hadn’t allowed his mind to play and wonder in this particular area often enough.

“Where?” He asked, serious but trying to withholding his anticipation. He brushed a few loose and wavy pieces of hair away from her face, waiting for her response.

“Everywhere.” She said with a short gasp at the end, as if she had been holding her breath since her last remark.

“That’s not very specific...” He mused, looking down at her neck and to the top of her chest before meeting her gaze again. “I guess…” He whispered, leaning over to one side, placing a kiss on her cheek, then jaw. A chill shot up her spine as she subconsciously arched toward him. His mouth hovered by her ear, warm breath spilling out as a few loose hairs of his tickled the side of her face. “I’ll start here…” He trailed off, gently placing his lips against the side of her neck. The trail slowly moved upward, his lips just beneath her ear.

He pulled back mere centimeters, his lips brushing her earlobe. Her breath hitched, unsure what was next. He knew of that uncertainty and played off of it, lips trailing back down before finding purchase on a spot where he noticed that a light kiss caused a shiver on his initial way up. Without looking or removing himself from her neck, a hand came up and firmly gripped her jaw, tilting her head further to the other side.

“You have to let me in, Blueberry.” He whispered in her ear. She moaned in response to the comment, breathing heavily away from him as he held her there. In that same tender spot, he kissed again—his mouth more open as he gently sucked—the pressure causing her to moan again. Without warning, she gasped as she felt the flat of his tongue brush over the spot and trail up to just under her ear.

“Ca—” She started, but was quickly silenced when she felt his teeth, biting softly into the same spot he had been paying attention to. Releasing her jaw from his grasp suddenly, he parted from her neck and they were face-to-face again. After looking between his eyes and lips, back again and again once more, he scooped a finger under her chin and tilted her firmly upward before letting go.

“What about here?” He asked just before leaning down and in to place a gentle kiss off-center of the middle of her throat. She actively tried not to breathe so heavily or too sharply while he did so. She felt like he drew it out—even if for just a moment—like he was enjoying whenever she couldn’t help but hold her breath.

He knelt down slightly, “And here…” He breathed out against her soft skin as his kisses trailed from her throat to her collarbones, to the very top of her chest that was actively heaving—the pressure of her soft and flexible corset suddenly feeling extreme.

She was now aware that the rich, tingling sensation caused by his stubble had stretched to all areas he placed his lips. By now, her stomach was turned inside out, the heat feeling like it was pooling and pouring all over. It was like she was on fire, ignited with each touch.

He knelt down just a little further, asking, “Here?” As he asked, he dropped his left arm low, finding the bottom hem of her skirt. She felt his fingertips graze just below her knee and over, slowly trailing up the length of her thigh.

As his fingertips trailed upward, he stood at attention again, the sides of her dress falling over and beside his wrist as he slowly lifted. He stopped and looked back to her, seeking permission with his eyes—she kissed him instead, pulling him in by his coat…something she hadn’t stopped thinking about doing since her bedroom. Emboldened, she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He increased the pressure between them again, nearly pressing his full weight against her—with the exception of his hand, which was now near the top of her thigh and hip, keeping some distance between them.

He leaned toward the right, giving his left arm and hand more room to explore. Sinking back into the counter, she tilted her head back, breathless from their last kiss. He took the opportunity to kiss the side of her neck he hadn’t—she did say everywhere, he thought to himself. Mixing both soft and harsh kisses to her neck, she felt his hand flatten over the lowest part of her stomach just beneath her corset, his fingertips at the top edge of her panties.

“Here?” He asked again, tone even lower than before. The question sounded directly in her ear and dizziness beckoned to take over. He kissed her neck again and she bit her bottom lip tightly, nodding quickly.

“Say it…” He whispered, kissing just below her ear again as his fingers just barely pushed underneath the fabric.

“I want you to touch me…” She managed to get out, still turned away from his face as to allow access to her neck.

She reminded herself that all she had to do was ask, and he would oblige. His hand slid further down, his palm resting against her pubic bone. His fingers still hadn’t actually touched her yet; once low enough, his hand and fingers held the thin fabric just outward enough, noticing then how the soaked fabric clung to the backs of his fingers.

With their faces close and their lips nearly touching, she picked up on a faint smile. “W-what?” She exhaled, trying to steady her voice.

“You’re so wet…” He remarked, holding back a groan, and before she could respond, she gasped when she felt his fingers press against her. Slowly, his middle finger pushed past her slit, the slickness making it easy. She clung to his stable arm to steady herself. In a swift but gentle movement, he withdrew his hand partially, specifically until the tip of his now thoroughly lubricated middle finger rested gently against her clit. He didn’t even need to move, and she moaned anyway. The subtle adjustments of his hand created the sweetest sensation with the gentlest pressure.

Her lips parted and her burrow furrowed while he looked down on her with a sly smile creeping in at the corner of his lips. He pressed his forehead against hers again. She leaned in, desperate to find his lips before another sound could escape her. Coyly, while still staying close, he averted her kiss—enjoying the look in her eyes and sounds from her lips too much in this moment.

Slowly, he moved his finger—at first, in the faintest up and down motion. She was so desperate to kiss him, biting her bottom lip so hard she thought she might draw blood. Then, he began with slow circles; he tested both clockwise and counterclockwise before settling on the one that drew a greater reaction of desperation.

“Caleb,” she moaned, hands grabbing at his coat, “I-I…” She didn’t know what to say or do—she had never felt like this.

“Yes?” He asked while trailing kisses, seemingly to her…everywhere but her lips. The corner of her mouth, her chin, her jaw, her neck…all while she panted and quietly moaned against him. “P-please,” she begged, “kiss me, Caleb.”

He suddenly felt a selfish sense of guilt wash over him. Yes, he was absolutely getting a thrill from teasing her, but he reminded himself that she deserved it all—whatever she wanted, and whenever she wanted it. At least, this thought helped suppress the subconscious knowing that if she started to focus her attention and efforts onto him like he was her in this moment, he was confident he would explode.

As his lips crashed down onto hers, giving into her command, his fingers didn’t leave her. He continued to draw soft circles, causing her to moan into his mouth. The pressure alternated, and he felt her begin to seek that pressure as she squirmed, wiggled, and pushed forward with her hips into his hand. She was so…soft. So wet, velvety…so desperate. He tried to ignore the painful strain of arousal hardening him beyond belief.

Suddenly and without warning, he removed his hand—eliciting a soft gasp from her, shocked and wanting more. Still close, he raised his hand to his lips, and to his shock, she reached out and gripped his palm, bringing his hand to her mouth instead. She took both his ring and middle finger into her mouth, his index finger and pinky pushing past her cheeks as her tongue gently glided against his skin while she collected her taste from his fingers.

Using all his willpower, his mouth remained closed, but his jaw flexed, staring into her hazy eyes, her lips still wrapped around his fingers. Those damned books, he thought to himself. Having spent all his time relishing in her pleasure and need for him, he had been—mostly—ignoring his need for her. Right then, he felt his already painfully hard cock twitch, hard. As she released his fingers from her mouth, he pictured her on her knees, lips perfectly wrapped around him, his hands in her hair, pulling her horns…

They stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, debating what to do next. There were, so…many…things. He wanted any and all of it. But first and foremost, he couldn’t get the image out of his mind of her hands buried in his hair, screaming his name as he made her orgasm with his tongue over and over again. Alone, his mind—almost—always wondered to pleasing her.

Despite wanting to drop to his knees right there—he thought of her comfort. Gripping her hand and leaning in so their lips were almost touching, he whispered, “Come with me.”

Dizzy, she followed behind him, their hands laced as they quickly but quietly left the kitchen. She felt like she was stumbling, tripping over her feet, and his hand—his presence—was the only thing holding her up. She felt her heartbeat everywhere. He didn’t turn around; he was on a mission and leading them to their next destination.

Eventually, the pair found themselves back at the gateway entrance of her room. Gently stepping aside and releasing her hand, he allowed her to be the one to enter first. Following close behind, he quietly shut the door behind them. As he stepped further into the room, she turned around to face him—the pair illuminated by the fireplace.

“Cold feet?” He teased while she bit her bottom lip, a hint of sarcasm lacing his tone as he stepped toward her.

“No!” She quipped, pushing a finger against his chest, sounding much more like her usual self.

“Gute…” He remarked in Zemnian for the first time tonight, sending a shiver down her spine. Quickly, he spun her around by her hips and clutched the laces of her corset, pulling her back against him. His fist holding onto the laces created the only distance between them. “Because I’m not done with you.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against the back of her ear, “Not even close.” He finished in a whisper as he pulled the string of her corset undone.

Yet another full body shiver worked its way through her as she relaxed into his grasp. He released the strings, gripping her hip with that same hand, while the other reached around and gripped her jaw like he had earlier. He pulled firmly, causing her to crane her neck to the side and look up and behind her shoulder. He leaned forward and over and meet her lips, kissing her deeply before letting go. When he did, she turned around in her place, pressing her chest against him—desperate to be facing him again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, balancing just so on her toes to meet his lips again. His arms found their way around her waist, and he carefully, but quickly, loosened the remaining laces of her corset.

In a short time, his coat, her corset, her shawl, and both of their pairs of shoes left a trail toward and through her studio. Back in her bedroom like hours before, they stood still for a moment, panting as his hands ran down her arms and her hands down his chest. She noticed a brief hesitation flash across his face.

“W-what?” She asked, internally fearful that he would back away again.

“Has…” he brushed some hair behind her ear, looking at her lips before back to her eyes, “anyone ever…” he swallowed harshly, “made you come before?” She offered a small, yet playful, glare, assuming he had already known the answer to that question. He smiled at her, pinching her cheek softly, “I’m just…asking…” He blushed, looking away a moment, his chest still heaving from their descent into the room.

“No…” despite being a little embarrassed, she giggled, “just me…”

“Oh, yeah?” His lips curled into a slight smirk. She went to give his chest a small shove, but he caught her wrist instead. Leaning in close to her face again, she peered up at him expectantly, her lips parting at the feeling of his hand around her wrist. “Why don’t you…show me?”

“S-show you?”

“Ja…” he stared at her lips before he let embarrassment creep in, “I-I mean…” he blushed, “only if you want to.”

“I t-thought…maybe it’d…be a bit more comfortable for you…at fir—” As he stammered, she pressed a single finger from the hand he wasn’t holding against his lips.

“Okay,” she smiled, “I’ll show you…” Stepping back from him, he released her wrist. Suddenly, his mouth went completely dry as he watched her push her skirt over her hips and to the floor, revealing the panties he felt but hadn’t seen.

Without a corset or her skirt, her plain white blouse became loose and draped over her breasts perfectly. Telling himself he should tear his eyes away, he couldn’t. He stood still, just taking in her form, smiling lightly at the sight of her tail poking out behind her.

“Caleb…?”

“Ja… Sorry—!”

She giggled, shaking her head at him. “It’s okay…”

Crawling onto her bed, he continued to watch her, enjoying the curve of her thighs and hips as she got onto her back, her head cozied up within the pillows as her hair splayed around her. He swallowed harshly, asking himself internally… Why in the Gods did I suggest this? She hadn’t even done anything yet and his cock was already throbbing.

Letting her hand trail down one of her thighs, she spoke, “Are you going to come sit down?”

“U-uh, ja…” His throat was still dry as he scrambled over to the end edge of the bed.

“A little closer…?” He blushed again, but obliged anyway—scooting a bit closer.

“S-sorry…I’m—”

“Hard?” She giggled and his face became completely red.

“J-ja…” He let out a nervous laugh, staring at her hand as it got closer to her panties.

“I can see that…” She whispered, and if possible, his face became even more red.

“Mhm…” He sounded thoughtlessly, watching closely as her hand slipped underneath her panties.

When her fingers made contact with her skin, she let out a small gasp, slow to drag her finger between her slit and land on her clit. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching the fabric stretch and move over her knuckles.

Starting to rub her clit more intentionally, she let out a moan and they locked eyes. He twitched in his seat. “Do you normally wear your panties when you…” He stopped speaking, trailing off when he looked back to the movement of her hand under the fabric.

“Mmhm…mostly…nngh—” The sound of a more audible moan caused his eyes to widen briefly before relaxing, watching the expression of her face more carefully. 

“Does it feel good?”

“Mmph…y-yeah…” her fingers moved a little faster, “n-not as good as your fingers did, t-though…”

Instinctively, he reached out, running his hand across her shin that was closest to him. “Is that so…?”

“Mmhm—” She moaned again as his fingertips squeezed the skin on her leg.

“What are you thinking about right now?” His voice was hoarse.

“Your fingers…” She laughed, moaning directly after. His fingers dug deeper into her skin.

“What do you think about normally?” He instantly regretted the question, not necessarily wanting to know the answer.

“My b-books…” He stared at the soaked fabric clinging to her fingers, the hue of blue on her skin showing through. “You k-know, in this one book, t-there was this—nngh—wizard.”

“Oh, yeah?” He laughed softly, running his hand further up her leg.

“Mhm…” He watched her face as she spoke next, “It makes me t-think of you…it’s one of my f-favorites…”

“Why is that?” His hand continued up her leg until it was squeezing her thigh. He relished in the slight tremble that was beginning to occur.

“They—nngh—he…m-makes her come—like…a lot…”

He laughed at her response, "Oh? And how does he do that?”

“How d-doesn't he…is a better—nngh—question…” He nodded at the response, watching her lips intently while she spoke. “He d-does whatever she wants—nngh! Whatever she a-asks…”

“I bet he does…” Feeling another tremble from her leg, he pushed down lightly, holding her leg in place. “And…what do you want, Jester?”

“Can y-you help me—mmm—take these off?”

“I can do that.” Leaning over beside her, her hand still delicately moving, he reached for both of her hips, gripping the fabric and pulling down slowly.

With her now bare, the pair sucked in a mutual breath. He muttered a curse under his breath, the raw slight of her pleasuring herself far beyond that of his imagination. Just after her legs relaxed again, without thinking, his hand found its way back to her thigh, tugging it softly to the side.

“You look…” he watched her middle finger toy with her clit, absolutely lost for words, “so…” he gasped when she pushed past the length of her slit, dipping the same finger inside her entrance, “Oh my god…” The last of his words came out as a groan.

It wasn’t long before her finger slipped back out, immediately returning to her clit. “Do you wanna—nngh—h-help me…”

“Mhm, I do.” He spoke obediently, standing up and off the bed to remove his shirt. She moaned quietly while watching him. He was quick to settle between her thighs, kissing slowly along her skin until his face was nestled between her legs, kissing lightly the inside of each thigh—she didn’t stop working herself.

When he made direct eye contact with her hand, he moaned—pathetically almost—before composing himself. “You’re going to have to s-stop if you want my help.” He let out a small chuckle, a part of him not wanting her to stop. Immediately blushing, she went to quickly retract her hand, but he caught her wrist, again.

Bringing her fingers close to his mouth, he spoke, “You stole this moment from me earlier…” His voice was low before he cautiously wrapped his lips around her fingers, his eyes instantly closing, a low moan from his mouth reverberating against her skin as he ran his tongue along her wet fingers.

“C-Caleb…” Her voice was a hush, watching him desperately.

As she pulled back, they made careful eye contact. Quickly, his lips pressed into her thigh again, “Oh mein gott…” He spoke into her skin, and she felt herself clench at the sound of his native tongue.

He looked up at her again, his breath washing over her, “You taste…” his lips tentatively met the top of her slit with a small, delicate kiss, “so gut…”

Their breathing was mutually shaky. Slowly, he brought both of her thighs over his shoulders. As his fingers pressed into her skin, he spoke, “You’ll want to relax, ja?” She nodded, peering down at him. “I’ve got you, Blueberry…”

“O-okay…” Despite the stutter, her voice resounded with eagerness.

“I promise…” Slowly, he let his tongue met the top of her slit, gently brushing over the hood of her clit.

“Mmm—” One of her legs instantly twitched, not knowing what to expect from the feeling.

He sank into her, his tongue pushing up slightly to reveal her already swollen clit. Allowing his tongue to be a bit flatter, as to not overwhelm her, he glided up and down, slowly—very, slowly.

“Oh my—” She let her head fall back into the pillows.

“Mmmph…” He sounded against her skin, glancing up at her with a heavy-lidded gaze. He controlled the pace, a bit slower downward, and just the slightest bit faster on his way up. The sound from him prompted her to look back at him, a needy moan falling from her lips as soon as they made eye contact.

After a moment, he allowed his tongue to be ever-so-slightly more pointed. But each time she started to squirm, he would flatten again. With each deliberate stroke of his tongue, her moans got louder. Eventually, she covered her mouth with her hand—both in embarrassment and fear that someone may hear.

“Mm-mm.” He sounded, as if to say “No,” breaking away. “Magic, ja?” His voice was raspy. “No one can hear, it’s okay.” He kissed the space above her clit again. “Plus…I really, really, want to hear you.” His tongue swiped against her clit again, eliciting another more exposed moan. “Let me hear what you like…”

Nestling back into her skin, his nose brushed against the top of her pubic bone. He hummed against her again…straight back to work diligently, like he was studying each twitch, squirm, moan, and shift. Eventually, he used his tongue to make small, controlled circular motions. As soon as he did, he hummed happily at the feeling of her fingers lacing into his hair.

Gripping her thighs more firmly, she bucked softly against his mouth, and the action went directly to cock that was—long had been—straining against the mattress. As if with trained pace and restraint, he switched his movements between a gentle up and down to a deliberate circle. Suddenly, his lips wrapped around her clit, hardly sucking, a quiet sound coming from his mouth.

“Oh my god—Caleb!”

He withheld a small chuckle, continuing with careful precision. Her legs were quick to squeeze and apply pressure beside both sides of his head. Barely lifting his mouth off her, he looked up, “Try and relax, okay? It’ll make it more…powerful.” His tongue returned to her immediately after speaking, another loud moan tumbling out of her lips.

“It’s—oh m-my—I c-can’t, it feels s-so good…” She was panting, nearly breathless.

“You can.” He spoke against her skin, barely stopping. Slowly, he squeezed her thighs, forcing the muscles to partially relax. Lifting his head up, he met her eyes. “Why don’t you just look at me, ja?” He kissed her slit again, a slight whimper escaping her lips at the pressure. “Focus on me…focus on what I’m doing…nothing else.” He licked a controlled stripe up toward her clit, applying slight pressure with the tip of his tongue. “Focus on only this…” he licked again, “let your muscles relax.”

“Mmm—o-okay…” Despite the slight tremble, she did her best to follow his instructions. He was good with instructions, after all…

With her mouth agape, she struggled to hold his eye contact, his darkened gaze almost too much to bear mixed with the delicate sensations created by his mouth. She dropped her head occasionally, moaning loudly before lifting back up to meet his gaze that never left her face.

“Oh my—I-I'm gonna—” Her voice was a crude whine. He didn’t stop and instead held her thighs against his shoulders a bit more firmly, delicately sucking on her clit as soon as she spoke before returning to the more delicate motions. “F-fuck—nngh—Caleb!”

In short succession, she came undone easily at his touch, her thighs trembling against him while her back arched. He moaned while watching her, enjoying the peaks of her breasts showing through her blouse as she arched, slowing his movements to work her through the feeling. Her hands easily found his hair again, her hips bucking more violently than they had thus far, desperate to get as close to his mouth as her body would allow.

When she started whining—whimpering—he released her from his mouth. Eager to simply watch that same event unfold over, and over, again, he spoke, “Do you ever…make yourself come more than once?”

“Nngh—” she was still struggling as he held onto her, “s-sometimes but I—mmm—usually w-wait a while.”

“Never…” he released one of her thighs, bringing his thumb against her and hardly pressing into her clit, “one after the other?” When he stopped speaking, he let his thumb swipe up and down, as delicately as he was able.

“Mmmph—nngh!” She lifted her head, staring onto him, “Not r-really…” Her breathing was completely ragged.

“Do you think you’d like that?” His thumb switched to a slow, teasing circular motion. She didn’t respond—she couldn’t—she only moaned loudly at the feeling. “I bet…” he pressed ever-so-slightly harder, “the wizard in your book does that, ja?” Her legs had already begun to tremble again. “You know…” he kissed the inside of her thigh, his thumb still working softly, “it’s easier… They tend to…cascade one after the other.”

“R-really?” She squeaked, closing her eyes, “Mmmph…”

“Mhm…” Not stopping his thumb, he kissed further inward on her thigh. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Y-yes, please…” Her voice was weak.

“Mmm, gut…” Without another thought, he removed his thumb and let his tongue barely graze her again, careful to not overwhelm her. With the loud erotic shriek that sounded from her lips, he worried he had definitely already done so. Not caring, he let his tongue make the shortest movements he could, bringing his hands back to stabilize both of her thighs.

Due to the attention of his thumb throughout their conversation and after her first orgasm, achieving the second with his tongue was easy. Almost too easy, sending another twitch directly into his cock, which he suspected by now was promptly helplessly leaking, the feeling of her coming undone against him no less than literal perfection.

Moaning himself, acknowledging truly where he was and what he was doing, she quickly was quaking again, grasping at his hair again, screaming his name again… He mused he could do this all day and be completely content.

Removing his mouth again, he rubbed her thighs with his hands, attempting to alleviate the shake of her muscles. “You sound perfect when you come.” His voice was low, completely consumed with arousal. As if against his will, he spoke again, “Do you think you can handle one more, Blueberry?”

He looked up at her, her head back and nestled into the pillows, her chest heaving as the material of her blouse stretched over her hard nipples… He never wanted to leave the spot he currently found himself in. He kissed her thigh again, “Hm?”

“Hmm—mmm—yes…but—nngh—last one…” Amidst the huffing, panting, and moaning, a short laugh fell out of her lips toward the end.

With his lips still pressed into her thigh, he chuckled, too. “Mmm, whatever you say.” His tongue ran against her thigh, “Whatever you want.” Thinking back to the sight of her finger slipping inside, he spread her slit with two fingers, gently toying with her clit a moment. “Would you want…” he bit the inside of her thigh, trying to control himself, “to feel my fingers?”

She moaned helplessly, already feeling the imminent anticipation of another descent upon her, still not properly recovered from the last…not even close. “Is that a yes?” He chuckled against her skin again.

“Mmhm—oh my god—yes…” Her desperation went straight to his cock, his hips instinctively driving into the mattress.

As his fingers gently pushed past her entrance, he kissed the top of her slit, moaning as soon as he was halfway to the feeling of her warm and tightly wrapped around his fingers. “Fuck, Jester—” Interrupting himself, he attached his mouth back on her clit once his fingers were completely inside. Gently pumping, he couldn’t help but suck softly on her clit again, the cries of her pleasure too tempting to induce.

Just as he let his fingers curl upward, “Caleb—!” 

He hummed against her, careful to keep a steady rhythm with both his fingers and tongue. He focused on attempting to breathe in and out, slowly, through his nose, worried if he let himself get lost in the sound of her pleasure he may have come right then.

“F-fuck—don’t stop—oh my—nngh!” He worked his fingers a little faster, groaning as she began to clench around them. With his fingers moving a bit faster, he slowed the pace of tongue down to a deliberately teasing degree, contrasting the two sensations.

“That’s it…” he pulled his mouth away just briefly, “I want you to come, don’t hold back.” Not even needing to return his tongue to her, as she was already falling apart to his hand alone, he did so anyway, eliciting an immediate and sharp cry alongside his name as she came for the third time.

Utterly weak, she let her legs slump off his shoulders as he completely detached from her. “O-oh my god—!” She was laughing while making a failed attempt at catching her breath, “That w-was…” She pointed a finger at him and he blushed. “I knew you were naughty!”

He laughed nervously, sitting up. “Well…”

“Do you think I could do that to you?” His eyes widened at the question.

“U-um—well…it’s— There’s a, uh, larger window for—” She sat up while he stammered. “Kind of—but not…at the same rate.”

“Oh, okay, that makes sense.” She smiled at him before her eyes trailed down his taut torso, finally landing on the outline of his hard length. She sat up a bit more and he felt the blush from his face descend and spread nearly everywhere.

With her eyes fixed on his cock, he felt the need to speak, “We need a bit more…time in between.”

“Mmhm…” She unabashedly stared at him, taking in his frame an inch at a time. She sunk back into the bed a bit, her legs spreading as she watched him. Sat up on both knees, he let his eyes trail down her body—fighting the desire to just shove his face back between her legs until she was screaming and trying to kick him off.

“Caleb—” his eyes snapped up from her body, embarrassment cresting then melting at the sight of her soft eyes.

“Ja?”

“I really want you to kiss me…” She sounded suddenly less cheerful—desperate, instead.

Like a man possessed, he was quick to crawl on top of her, careful to not press his hips down into her as he was still clothed from the waist down. To his surprise, her legs wrapped around him and pressed down, his hips easily meeting between her thighs. She moaned at the contact, her hips bucking. He fought a groan, or more truthfully, fought a raw desperation that even hidden behind clothing, his cock was so close to her…he just wanted to…sink into her and stare into her eyes, hear his name leave her lips…

“Please—” her voice cut deep into his sinful thoughts, “kiss me.”

Without a second thought, he fell into her, the pair instantly moaning when their lips touched. She wrapped around him completely, her arms around his back as his forearms came down beside her head within the pillows. Opening her mouth for him, his tongue slid against hers, a guttural groan sounding from his throat. He moaned again when her heels pressed into his tailbone, incentivizing him to sink lower. She whined at the feeling of his pants—and his hard cock beneath—grinding against her slit, a light pressure on her clit specifically eliciting the whine.

Reluctantly, he broke away and pressed his forehead against hers, a slight hesitation occurring. Not letting it linger long, she gripped the back of his neck, pulling him back in. Lips still brushing but breaking away for a short breath, she spoke, “I really want to make you feel good…will you let me?” A shiver descended down his spine, his hips bucking without his express consent.

He swallowed dryly, kissing her softly briefly before responding, “Mhm…”

“I w-would like that…” He propped himself back up onto his hands, creating some space between them.

She ran her hands along his chest and down, his torso flexing at her touch as it got closer to his hips. “You’re awfully timid for someone who just made me come three times in a row.” She giggled.

He blushed, averting her gaze, “W-well…” She didn’t stop moving her hands, and he felt his body weaken. “I just want to make sure you’re…comfortable.”

“Oh, I’m very comfortable now.”

“Oh, yeah?” He released a soft chuckle that was instantly silenced and transformed into a groan when her palm ran down his clothed length. “Scheiße—”

She let out a breathy giggle, “You’re really hard, you know…”

“Mmhm…” He fought a moan, sealing his lips shut tight. He was worried she’d make him come just from talking, hardly touching him…before he could even get his pathetically hard cock out. Pleasuring her already left him on edge…atop a dangerous cliff.

He clenched the pillows in his fists while she palmed him, trying his very best—and failing—to act nonchalant about it. She enjoyed his expression, his brows furrowed while she looked up at him with a playful, excited grin. Suddenly, her hand left him, her nails raking back up on his stomach.

“Why don’t you lay down…” She suggested warmly and he gulped, obliging, but nervously.

Giddily straddling him and sitting up in his lap, he tentatively gripped her hips. Slowly, he let his shoulders relax into the bed while she ran her hands up toward his chest, deliberate in feeling the thin, lean muscle under her fingertips.

“Blueberry…” he caught her attention that was fixed on his chest, “are you sure?” 

“Mmhm…” She cooed, partially grinding into his lap.

Lifting up from his hips, she leaned forward until they were face-to-face. She kissed his cheek sweetly before nuzzling in toward his neck, taking the move from him as it happened earlier, pressing her lips against the side of his neck.

“Mmm…I-I just—” her teeth bit down into his flesh lightly and he felt her sharp little canines, “nngh—don’t want you to feel like you have to.” He was practically squirming beneath her.

“I want to.” She whispered into his skin before kissing the same spot again.

“Mhm—ja‚ okay…” He trailed off, enjoying the feeling of one of her horns brushing against his jaw while she leaned in close. Sinking into the feeling, she let her chest dip and pressed her breasts against his chest. “Mmph…”

Pulling back and meeting his eyes again, she spoke, “You made me feel so…good…I want to make you feel that way.” There was a small smile on his lips. Gods, he wanted to be inside her right then.

He simply nodded, staring at the curl on her lips, gripping her hips a bit more firmly. Not needing to be told, she scooted down his lap, wiggling until her lips had access to his chest, then his stomach…then by his hips. Hooking her fingers into all the material at his hips, his breath hitched…and loudly, too. She giggled, tugging slightly but not yet pulling anything off, “Didn’t you tell me to relax earlier?”

“Mmm—I d-did.”

“You should take your own advice.”

“Nngh—I-I'm trying…”

“Do you…think about this a lot?” She looked up at his expectant and blushing face, but he instantly let his head drop back into the pillows.

"I t-think more about what I just did, but—nngh—yes..." He answered weakly. She kissed his stomach again, sending a shiver across his skin.

“Do you ever…make yourself come thinking about it?” She was subtly enjoying his palatable discomfort—his yearning.

“Mhm…all the time.” He admittedly shamelessly, the faintest laugh resounding at the end of his sentence. “Scheiße, s-sorry,” he corrected himself, “I shouldn’t have said that…”

“No…” a small moan escaped her lips, “it’s okay. Why don’t you tell me what you think about when you come?” Pulling on the fabric slightly, he snapped his head up at her, ready to stutter his way through his next sentence but simply let his head fall again.

“U-um…I t-think about…you touching me,” his hips twitched, “your lips wrapped around me—mmm…” she pulled a bit more, “your tongue…” his voice became a whisper, full of shame and sin. But here it was, right in front of him—about to happen. He fought hard to keep his body under control.

Suddenly, she tugged enough that his bare cock hit the air. He groaned, not lifting his head an inch. If he did, he might have come just from the sight of her face simply near it. He shut his eyes tightly and reminded himself internally that he was pathetic.

She giggled with a quiet excitement, never having had anyone bare like this in front of her before. “Y-you’re…” She suppressed a rising gasp, admiring his cock. Quick to wiggle between his thighs, spreading them slightly, she leaned in thoughtlessly, licking a stripe from base to tip, “Mmm…”

“O-oh my—” He flinched, acknowledging the complete lack of timidness in her movements. She did it again, eliciting a proper moan from his lips. Thinking back to the end of his series of comments—her tongue—she let it dip out and caress the underside of his tip gently.

“Y-you—” He couldn’t say a thing.

She kissed the same spot before letting her hand slide down his stomach and underneath, cautiously lifting up until he met her mouth at ninety degrees. Her hand wrapped around his base caused him to exhale harshly—still unable to watch her.

Licking his tip again, he finally brought his head up, overwhelmed by a concern for her comfort rather than his own selfish inability to control himself. “J-just—go s-slow, ja? Don’t feel like you have to—” Interrupting his gentle warning, she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, letting her tongue rest and slide gently on the underside.

“Nngh—Jester…” He clenched his fists harder by the sides of his hips. “Your tongue…” He let his head fall back again. She giggled against him, the slight hum causing his eyes to snap shut, trying to stay focused. But not, too, focused…

Pushing a bit lower, she watched his hand raise before quickly dropping back to his side. The act piqued her interest, but she continued anyway, happily taking more of him into her mouth. Slowly, she retracted before pushing back down. Groaning, he fought to keep his hips down.

Suddenly, her hand began moving up and down, meeting the bottom of her mouth on the way up, a bit of saliva dripping from her mouth making doing so easier. “Scheiße…” She moved her mouth a bit more eagerly, enjoying the various sounds coming from him. “F-fuck…those damned…b-books…” He groaned, a moan trailing close behind. 

She hummed against him, looking up at his chest that was rising and falling rapidly. Suddenly while looking toward him, she watched both of his hands raise, come toward her head, and flex dramatically before dropping them again. With a little pant, she popped her mouth off of him, “You can grab them.” She offered simply, staring up at him while he lifted his head.

“W-what?” She licked his tip again, enjoying the look in his eyes while she did so. “Nngh—f-fu—”

“My horns.” She licked again before hovering her mouth over him, “Go ahead.” She took him back into her mouth. Moaning, he tentatively slipped a few fingers into the curvature of each of her horns, careful not to grasp too tightly. Lowering with his grip on her, she moaned against him, feeling wetness return and pool between her thighs.

“Oh m-my god…” By then, he gave up on trying not to watch, realizing it was the best thing he had ever seen. Quickly and suddenly, he felt himself tighten from staring too long, her lips wrapped tightly around him, her hand working him, her horns in his hands… “W-wait—wait—nngh—”

“Mm-mm.” She hummed, pushing down as he pulled up gently, taking advantage of the fact he wasn’t pulling very hard.

“Scheiße I-I'm—I—”

With a muffled moan and slight gag from trying to push past her limit—his tip nestled into the soft palate at the back of her throat—her eyes widened as hot come hit the space in the back of her throat, gliding down easily. When they locked eyes, she relaxed warmly to the feeling, another hot spurt meeting her mouth, then another…

He was a complete, flushed, mess, groaning loudly while watching her eyes. She hummed again as his cock twitched, expelling the final amount of his release from his cock. “F-fuck, I-I'm—I’m sorry—” His breathing was ragged, attempting to collect himself as he released her horns.

Humming pleasurably one last time, she released him from her mouth, but not before swiping her tongue along his tip intentionally one last time, causing a sharp moan to escape him due to the sensitivity.

He covered his face with both of his hands, huffing raggedly into his palms. She crawled up to meet him, pulling his hands from his face by his wrists. “That was very hot, Caleb.” She said so exceedingly casually with a smile, causing another residual twitch of his cock.

Without thinking, he flipped her onto her back and hovered over her, shoving his face into her neck. “Y-you read too much.” He laughed, placing a sloppy kiss against her skin.

“Mmm—so do you…” She whispered, wrapping her arms around him. He picked his head back up, gazing into her soft eyes, acknowledging just how warm he felt in her presence.

As she was ready to speak again, he simply crashed his lips down onto hers, completely ignoring the lack of space between them. “Mmmph…” She was quick to respond to him, lacing her fingers into his hair as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. The only things that kept them apart was her loose blouse and the pants low around his thighs. He moaned into her mouth when he felt her pushing at the material stuck to him with her feet.

Suddenly, he broke their kiss, sitting up partially onto his knees as he gripped the bottom of her blouse. “Can I take this off, please?”

“Mhm…” Sitting up slightly to help him, they got it off easily before she fell back into the pillows.

“You’re so beautiful, Blueberry.” His smile was warm, gentle, and full of admiration.

She blushed, and that blush drove him to bend at his hips, pressing his mouth against her slit again, “Nngh—Caleb!” She whined, not expecting it but relishing in the feeling, nonetheless. He stroked her clit with his tongue a moment before moving up, kissing her everywhere, before finding himself face-to-face with her breasts.

“Is t-this ok—” Before he could finish, she laced her fingers in his hair again, tugging him in the direction of her chest. He laughed softly, obliging to her pull. Like he had with her clit originally, he barely let his tongue graze her skin, pushing lightly on one of her nipples.

“Mmph—mmhm…” Her mouth fell open as she tilted her head down to watch him. He sunk into the feeling, gripping the opposite breast his mouth wasn’t on, squeezing gently, another moan eking out from her throat.

Their voices overlapped as he wrapped his mouth around her flesh, sucking softly before slightly increasing his pressure with both his mouth and hand. Abruptly, almost greedily, he switched to her other breast, wrapping his mouth around her and sucking more firmly than he did the other at first, a sharp whine escaping her lips. “C-Caleb…”

Pulled by greed and driven by selfishness, he hurriedly brought his face to hers, quick to get his lips back on hers. Thoughtlessly, he drove her thighs apart with the pressure from his hips, pressing completely into her body. She moaned, feeling his hard cock press against her. Between his release and getting her completely bare, his cock had hardly arrived at half-mast before becoming completely erect again. Shoving his face back into her neck, he sucked hard enough on the skin that she began clawing at his back, moaning at both the pressure from his mouth and that of his cock now grinding openly against her still soaked slit.

“I t-thought you said there n-needs to be—nngh—time in between…”

“Mmm—m-mostly,” he was groaning against her neck…desperate to just be inside of her, “sometimes,” he bucked his hips forward into her, “when you’re really—um—nngh,” her nails lightly clawed down his back again, “scheiße—e-excited to…be with someone—i-it can be pretty fast.”

“Oh—” She cooed, kissing the skin of his shoulder closest to her mouth. “Mmm—”

“Fuck—Jester, I want to feel you s-so badly…” She moaned at the sound of his words—at the thought. His cock was pressed entirely against her slit with a slow drag up and down, his tip gliding against her clit with each gentle thrust and buck of his hips forward.

“I want you inside me.” She whined, pulling against him desperately.

Putting his desperation and anticipation on hold, he brought his face back to hers, his voice serious. “Are you sure? …Really sure?”

“Yes—yes, please.” She stroked his cheek with her hand, and he leaned into it, chasing after her touch.

“I don’t— I can’t hurt you…”

“You won’t…” She whispered, still stroking the side of his face. “I want you, Caleb.”

“I—” He sighed in complete—in love—defeat. “I want you. I’ll always want you. I’ve always wan—” Not able to contain herself or hear another word, she pulled him back in, aching for his lips on hers.  

During the onslaught of his cock grinding against her, he pulled back a bit further, his tip pressing gently against her entrance, a gasp falling out from both of their lips. Gripping himself in his hand, he spoke again, “You’re s-su—”

She glared at him, sweetly, but a glare, nonetheless. He smiled, finally a bit cockily, using his hand to push his tip just inside. In unison, they gasped at the pressure. Removing his hand from between them, she was quick to wrap her legs around the low point of his waist, neither of them bothering to notice he never even completely took his pants off.

“Oh my god—” Her moan was quiet, a realization dawning on her that they were actually doing this. She was actually doing this.

“Does it hurt?” He asked cautiously, holding his hips back and fighting the desire to fill her completely with himself.

“Mm-mm,” she breathed out slowly, “it’s just a lot of p-pressure.” She let out a whine as he pushed his cock in just a bit further, moaning then at the feeling of being stretched.

“I’ll be gentle… Tell me if it hurts, o-okay?”

“Mhm…” She answered, but her heels told a different story as they pushed against his tailbone. He groaned as he sunk further forward from the pressure.

“Scheiße…” He cursed once he was halfway.

“Mmm—t-this feels—” A moan cut her sentence short.

“I k-know…” His arms flexed beside her as he continued. Once he was full up inside her, they pressed their foreheads together, their lips brushing as tiny gasps and audible moans spilled out.

“C-Caleb—oh my god…”

Internally, he was grateful he had already come, because if he hadn’t…he was convinced he would have let go instantly as soon as he was completely entangled with her. “You’re perfect…” He whispered, pulling out slowly before pushing back in. As he spoke, he felt her clench around him, and a delicious shiver ran down his spine from the feeling of her drawing him in.

“Caleb—” She whined, the sound of his name causing his hips to buck more firmly than he intended. His eyes widened slightly when she arched back into the pillows, moaning loudly at the more intentional and reckless thrust forward.

Trying to speak and failing, she continued to moan at the feeling, prompting him to speak, “Talk to me…tell me what you want…” His voice was pleading and quiet as he suppressed his own drive to completely…let go.

“Oh m-my—w-will you—nngh—thrust a bit—aah!” She was cut off by a new feeling, his tip reaching a newfound spot, the one he met with his fingers, she thought. But it was much, much, different when it was the head of his cock. “H-harder…” She was putty in his hands, and like he promised earlier, he had her—and would do whatever she asked him to.

In a haze, she mulled over the thought again that he was so good at following directions as he kept the pace intact but thrusted into her more firmly. “Mmm—” When she looked back at him, a moan escaping, he was quick to meet her lips with his, wanting to keep every sound he drove out of her for himself. All, to himself.

Pulling apart, little pants escaping them both, he pressed his forehead against hers again, not letting up on his movements. “Does it—aah—feel good?” No matter what he was seeing, hearing, and feeling…he had to make sure.

“Mmhm—oh—s-so good…” He couldn’t fight back the smile growing on his lips, but said smile was quickly replaced with a moan and a face of desperation as her heels pressed into him again as he pulled out partially, instantly wanting him back inside—completely.

He groaned when feeling her sharp nails dig into the skin of his back, each part of her pulling, drawing, and tugging him in. He fought his mind…she was so…soft, wet, and warm. It felt like every part of her squeezed around him, stealing all the air from his lungs.

“My god—” he groaned, fighting the buck of his hips increasing in speed but failing, “Jester—you—” He didn’t know what to say let alone how to—he fought the desire to just confess, right there, how much he loved her. “I-I— You’re so…”

“Caleb, o-oh my god—don’t—nngh—stop!” He had zero intention of doing so.

“Kiss me.” He begged, staring at the pleasurable contortions flashing across her expression. Maybe if he could attach his lips to hers and never part from her, he could stop himself from saying something…saying…everything. Thankfully, she obliged, and without realizing it, silenced his confession.

In a sloppy, hazy kiss, their moans became indiscernible, flowing from one to another. “That’s it…” He murmured against her lips when he felt the tremble of her thighs against his body. “Scheiße—” He fought his own release, sure to work her toward hers first.

“I want to feel you come…” He whispered raggedly, pressing his lips back to hers, drinking in each moan she gave him.

“Fuck—oh my god—” her eyes widened as she tilted back from his lips, her brows quickly furrowing once her eyes relaxed, “r-right there, oh my—nngh—right there!” He made sure to oblige, his core flexing as he held the angle, pace, and depth of each thrust.

As she unraveled beneath and against him, he watched in awe, moaning at the feeling of her milking the length of his cock with each clench behind her release. Feeling that quick tug within his core at the sounds, sights, and feelings of her pleasure, he fought a dramatic guttural groan.

Still struggling against her own release, she gasped when he thrusted hard, slower than before but with more power, the last several thrusts timing with each release from his cock. His tip wedging against her G-spot the last few times left her stuttering over his name as she watched his face. Pressing his forehead against hers, they stared at one another, bodies utterly weak and spent.

He pressed his lips gently against hers as they panted, this kiss of the evening the most tender yet. This kiss said it all. Pulling out carefully, he laid beside her, finally pushing the rest of his clothing off and down his legs for comfort. Pulling her into his arms, a hand smoothed out over her back as one of hers met his chest. Both breathing quietly, he spoke suddenly, “I should let you—” In a rush, she nearly jumped him, quick to sit perched in his lap.

“You—!” She pressed her palms flat against his chest, hard. “Aren’t going anywhere.” She gripped his chin and his eyes widened. Suddenly, she let go of his face and leaned in, pressing the side of her face against his chest, the hair at the top of her head tickling his chin. Her voice became quiet and wistful, suddenly losing its demandingness. “Please…don’t go…”

Exhaling warmly, he wrapped his arms around her easily as she straddled him in a hug. “I won’t…I promise…” Tilting his neck upward, he kissed the top of her head. “I won’t go…ever.”

He smiled at the feeling of her body tightening around him, hugging him as securely as she was able.