Boy Who Cried Wolf 「1850s/ Victorian AU| Blinded Paul Weller × Reader 」

His ever changing moods- Chapter 6

His ever changing moods - Chapter 6

|WARNING- Fetishism [ His lordship's blood fetish] , a hint of madness,  he's starting to show how much he needs you, he just decides to show that. A dirty sex reference, slight injury. Paul uses you as something that you can't explain.  Watch the video at the top  it's a ASMR video, but it gives such a good vibe to this chapter.

October 4th,16:30 pm, you walked downstairs, down to the library,  his lordship was struggling with an idea,  you looked to Talbot,  the valet turned to you and smiled,  "Hello Miss L/N.  ". You smiled,  "Hello Talbot. Is he struggling with something?". Talbot looked at his lordship,  "Yes. He hasn't had any ideas for the last couple of hours. ". His lordship turned to you off his chair next to his easel,  " My darling…give me sanity! Give me something…". You flinched,  placing your hands on his face,  "Sir…I…I...I don't know how. ".  He looked at you without his eyes,  "Give me a sign Deanna…!". Talbot looked at him and sighed,  "Sir…please.  Just ask her. She's inspirational.  Paint our guest.".  He looked at you, and you shook your head.  "How can I Talbot?". I'm out of r–!". He thought for a second,  something unique,  something mad, he clicked his fingers. "Darling?". You looked at him and smiled,  "Who me?". Paul smirked ,walking to you,  he softly covered your eyes with a hand, he smiled, he placed you in a chair, he felt you, you were warm from the fire,  he placed a paintbrush in his hands,  you were his imaginative contour.

"Relax, darling.". He placed the brush down for a second,  cutting your cheek a bit with his pocket knife, you gasped and throw your head back,  Talbot flinched,  his face of disgust and concern, he covered his mouth, turning his head away, knowing that his lordship cut you, not a lot, but,  it made you flinch,  "Sir..that's not  what I  meant, I didn't mean to make her bleed..."But your head went back down quickly again,  "Sorry…I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm just lacking some red. Understand?",  he felt your cheek, stroking the scar, blood poured slowly like wine. He dabbed his brush into the blood of your cheek, "Yes... I understand completely... ". He smiled,  kissing your neck,  "Good girl.". You gasp a bit, feeling him kiss you there. The bloodied paintbrush flickered on the canvas. He got some more blood on his brush, and he painted with your blood. Was he insane? Not really,  he was just experimental. Something isn't right about this. You liked  the pain,  brush on your cheek,  it was relaxing.

Hours continued to pass, he began to tighten his grip on your shoulder after he moved his hand,  you kept your eyes closed,  you softly hummed, you moaned a little bit, his hand was cold,  you were the one that was keeping him focused,  the blood poured slowly down your cheek,  he got some in a pot, almost a litre. He spoke,  "I'm not hurting you, am I?". You shook your head, feeling the brush on your small wound. It was soft to the touch on your cheek. He added more details to his painting. You felt relaxed to his touch,  "Darling?". You looked up at him, you stuttered "Y-yes…?". He softly licked the blood off your cheek,  he softly coughed, tasting the blood. "Sweet. Aren't you? " You felt shocked that he did that, "Sir…please..I-I'm not sweet." He stopped, placing his paintbrush down on the wooden oak table and putting his hands around your waist,  "I'm done, my darling Deanna.  I'll stop.". He smiled, his soft touch as he had finally finished his work. "Open your eyes, darling. ". You opened your eyes, feeling him, he came around to you, he felt your face,  you looked at the painting, it was like a woman, it was something of a fable, of a myth, "Oh my…sir this is extraordinary…". He smiled, stroking your face with his hand, "Not as extraordinary as you, my darling. "You blush softly, hearing his soft and charming voice speak to you. The blood dried on on your cheek, but he placed his hand on the wound, making the blood pour again.

His lordship pulled you close,  he placed his head against yours,  "I want to talk with her alone, Talbot. ".  Talbot nodded,  "Of course, Sir.  I'll leave you two alone .".  The valet walked out of the room, leaving you alone with his lordship. 

"You wanted me to stay and talk your lordsh–?". He kissed you softly, cutting you off as he held you closer to him,  he really meant it,he smiled though,  he kissed your forehead,  he put his arms around you tightly, he softly pulled away,  "Forgive me father for I have sinned.". He kissed you again before pulling away,  he took your hand and walked upstairs as he used his riding crop to help him walk, "Walk with me, talk and walk with me.".  You both walked upstairs, he smiled but as he couldn't see you, he tried.

He entered the bedroom with you, he told you to be very quiet,  you were, he kissed you more as he he held you down, he kissed you more, he wanted you all for himself, "Lord, I need her.". He needed you more than anything in the world right now. His kiss was soft and calming. It was love, alright.  He placed his arms around you. "Shush.... don't want them to hear us, do you?".

"Darling Deanna...". He placed his hands on your cut, blood slowly poured, he got some on his fingers,  "Head and lay back.". You lay back,  he  opened your dress a tad bit to your hips, you blushed deeply and turned away,  blood got onto the sheets, he held you closer, he got his pot of blood, mixing it with some warm and clear water. He placed his fingers in the mixture, and he smiled,  knowing you were below him, in status and in his desire, "Shush....". He stroked his two fingers with the mixture across your body into a bloody cross, it was his form of madness,  lustful ambition, you mumbled softly. He shushed you, "Quiet. ". He let the blood pour down your chest. He picked you up closer and began to kiss you passionately. He ran his fingers through your hair.  You felt funny, but you liked it for some reason. You really liked it. He softly bit around your neck, and he really started to show his form of loving you. You grab his shirt, you felt him stop you, taking your hands away, he wiped the remaining  blood on your forehead from his thumb, making a little bloodied stain, it was something else, he spoke "Not now my darling Deana. Not now.". He kissed you again, as he decided, you were his gift. His gift, his someone. He stood up from the bed, placing his butterfly masquerade mask on your stomach,  untying his bandages,  he felt the blood on you as you lay down,  "Now...". He yawned,  he placed his masquerade mask on. He spoke, "Lay upright. ". You did. He pulled you close, he placed his arms around you,  he placed on hand on your head, kissing your forehead. 

You were his canvas.

Then, after a while, you both felt sleepy before he then lay down next to you,  stroking your face. You fell asleep on him.  "Goodnight, darling.  See you in the morning.  Bright and early. ".  You cuddled up closer to him. "Goodnight, your lordship.".