That red tie. Oh, that red tie.

It was dangerous. You swore it was your weakness, more than his arms, more than that deep voice, more than the quiet way he said your name when no one else was around.

The first time you saw him wear it, you nearly choked on your drink. It wasn’t even the color — it was the contrast. Crimson silk against his black shirt, that tall, broad frame filling it out too well, hair tousled, sleeves rolled. He looked expensive. Sharp. And devastating.

But the best part? He wore it for you.

He wouldn’t admit it outright, of course. No, Wriothesley would mumble something like “This one was just clean.” But he knew. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You didn’t always get the chance to tease him, not when the Fortress of Meropide kept him so busy. But tonight? He was yours.

And that tie?

You stood on your toes — height difference be damned — and gently tugged it.

It was a light touch at first. Just a playful little pull. A warning.

But when he looked down at you, mouth parted just slightly in surprise, eyes gleaming like he knew what was coming—

You tugged harder.

Wriothesley staggered a step forward, hands catching the edge of the counter behind you. You barely reached his collarbones, but that didn’t stop the power shift.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice a little rough, gaze amused. “That’s the Duke you’re pulling.”

“And?” you asked, smirking up at him.

He laughed — a deep, warm sound that vibrated in his chest. “And you’re lucky the Duke is weak for you.”

He leaned in. Not because he had to — he was already towering over you — but because he wanted to. Letting you tug him down by that red tie, meeting you halfway, always.

“Is that why you wore it?” you asked, brushing your fingers down the silk.

He hummed. “Maybe I like the way you look when you get bold.”

You kissed him — or maybe he kissed you — it didn’t matter. All you knew was that he was warm, and solid, and his arms circled around you like you belonged there. Like you always had.

The red tie loosened between your fingers.

The man behind it? Absolutely smitten.

Because only you could pull the Duke of the Fortress by his tie… …and make him melt.