#‘don’t quite have my legs under me yet’ indeed

[carefulfears]

sometimes i just want to cry over mulder’s fish and the way that we see both scully and doggett go to his apartment and feed them during the months he was missing and the fact that scully must have kept feeding them even months after he was dead and just to be loved so much that people come tend to your environment and keep your home and feed your fish long after you’re gone

and that the first thing he notices when he comes back is that one isn’t there. and how scully tried so hard, she tried so hard to find him and to keep him safe and to keep his work going and to keep those damn fish alive, and the first thing that he says to her when they walk back into that apartment is that one is missing

the way that in that scene, he says that he’s having trouble processing, that he doesn’t know where he fits in. you can be loved so much that multiple people come feed your fish and maintain your apartment after you’re buried in the ground, you can try so hard to keep everything going for someone else, but the world keeps spinning, and time goes on. fish die and baby bumps grow and answered prayers aren’t always miracles

he came back covered in scars to a clean apartment and a fish tank missing 1 molly and where does he fit in inside a world that hasn’t waited for him, no matter how hard she tried to make it stop

[qingxin-dream]

“Moonlight Showing”

summary | lyney whisks you away after his performance, wanting to make the most of his last night with his secret lover for awhile. (art credits: @/kiyonvmi on twitter).

warnings | profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, exhibitionism/public sex (creampie), a sprinkle of dominance, breeding, honestly fairly vanilla otherwise bc lyney is such a sweetheart, lyney speaks a little french

genre | smut

word count | 1.6k

pairing | lyney x reader

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Long after the crowd had dispersed from the picturesque Opera Epiclese at the close of Lyney and Lynette’s show, the beautiful gardens lie vacant under the moon’s silvery gaze. All the guests and staff had long taken the aqua-bus back to the Court of Fontaine to return home. There was not a soul in sight at this late hour.

However, even as the city sleeps, Coppelius and Coppelia—a mechanical wonder gifted to the Opera by the Fontaine Research Institute—continue their romantic dance in the courtyard. They never failed to captivate any audience as the reflective metal of the star-crossed lovers glimmered under sun or moon, rain or shine.

Atop the many steps leading down to the outdoor stage is a hand-carved throne of stone hidden behind the cypress trees encircling the scene. From afar perhaps it appears that there are indeed still two people lingering from the night’s magical performance, sitting together to admire the lovely dance.

To any innocent passersby, the sight was undoubtedly endearing and romantic. There’s nothing quite like the rush of young love. It was a good thing no one was here to bear witness; and even better that your lover was so cunning and clever, choosing such a secluded spot to have you in his lap.

Lyney’s gloved hands gripped the curve of your waist firmly, the pads of his fingertips digging into your soft flesh as he sinks your hips back down onto his hardened cock with a soft grunt of pleasure. You were forced to hold onto the cool armrests of the throne to keep yourself steady, the unexpectedly cold surface causing your walls to spasm and flutter around him. Groaning lewdly in your ear, Lyney was practically hypnotized by the way the white ring of your essence coated the base of his cock.

Your poor little legs were shaking. You couldn’t count how many times Lyney had made you cum, and yet he was utterly insatiable tonight. The erotic mixture of your fluids lubricated every inch of cock nicely. His smug, seductive laughter was a beautiful soft melody in your ears as the magician teased the tip of his length at your entrance, watching the nuances of your orgasmic expression once more.

With the ends of your sexy little red dress lifted up in his right fist, his other hand smacked your ass loudly. “You wore this on purpose, didn’t you, mon amour?”

A bratty whine rumbled in your throat as he forced you to continue fucking yourself on his throbbing length. You couldn’t possibly muster up a coherent response in your cockdrunk state. Cute little pants adorned the sound of your sex slapping onto his pelvis lightly smeared with your juices.

Lyney yanked you back by the hip to bury his needy cock into you, abruptly pulling the front of your dress down so your breasts spilled out into the open air. He loved feeling the enticing, malleable flesh between his fingers, occasionally pinching your adorable nipples to earn a sweet little moan out of you.

“Oh, fuck,” he murmured from behind, taking his thumb under the string of your lacy thong to get an unobstructed view of how your slutty hole gripped and swallowed his cock over and over. Lyney’s voice was deep and honeyed, enough to have you whimpering under your breath in anticipation. “Don’t you cream on my tights now. You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight, (Y/N).”

“Mm, mhmm,” you nod obediently, focusing intensely on the sensation of his cock continuously stretching your walls in the most delicious rhythm. You swear he must have memorized the exact spot that drove you wild. “Y-you fuck me… so good…”

“Mon amour, please, you’re doing all the work,” Lyney’s voice resounds lowly into the shell of your ear, smug and soft as velvet. He leans into your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin. A seductive giggle warms your shoulder and sends shivers prickling down your spine. “Why don’t you let me work my magic, hm?”

You settle yourself completely onto his pretty cock, resting your back gently against his chest. Lyney continues to encourage you with sweet nothings, distracting you with his words of praise while gloved fingers cup underneath your plush thighs and spread your legs. He gently guides your legs apart to set your calves onto the cool armrests on either side of you.

You hear him draw in a sharp breath as your spongy walls suddenly tighten again. “Are you trying to milk me dry, mon cœur?”

“I’m sorry. C-can’t help it,” you mumble, practically a whimper as this position has your cunt clenching down and damn near feeling every curve and contour as Lyney’s cock angles into you from underneath.

He smirked, presenting the pink petals of your wet flower long decorated in cum to the empty gardens of the Opera Epiclese. Though it was just the two of you and the mechanical dancers below, the mere thought of anyone catching a glimpse of how his thick cock split you open was beyond thrilling to Lyney. Call it a showman’s pride in his performance.

And for Archon’s sake, every little bit of movement had you rolling your head back with a litany of soft-spoken profanities and prayers leaving your lips. Yet you found yourself curious, leaning forward slightly, mesmerized by the way he stuffed you nice and tight.

Lyney chuckled, always one to study and revel in his audience’s wonder, and even more so with his secret lover. He drank you in like fine wine, pupils dilating and swirling with endless pool of desire as you struggled to take him like this.

“Give me your fingers, ma chérie,” he asks, though his tone is surprisingly firm. It wasn’t really a question. You reached around your shoulder to offer him a shaky hand, your breath catching as something hot and wet envelopes your index and middle finger. “Touch yourself.”

Heat flushed your cheeks as Lyney’s warm saliva drips from your digits. Parting your folds, you liberally massaged in circles around your clit, already a bit swollen and puffy from your previous lovemaking sessions on the throne. You curse under your breath between moans, reaching further down to trace your fingers at the bottom of his cock and marvel at the way he disappears inside of you.

The magician groans faintly, the brush of your fingers leaving him extra sensitive as you grind your hips into him. His words come out as a desperate whisper in the night air, a plea only your delicate ears are privy to. “H-hah, fuck, it’s so perfect… ‘n’ made for me.”

Lyney’s hands trail down your sides lovingly, making sure you’re well adjusted to his length in this unique position. In the wake of his fleeting touch, he plants featherlight kisses wherever possible on your spine. He presses a final chaste kiss on your shoulder blade before leaning back, cupping the bottom of your thighs to support you.

“Call my name, mon cœur, that’s all I ask,” he groans, thrusting his cock fully into your dripping hole. You cry out, gasping as his tip reaches the deepest part of you and rubs against every lovely ridge of your walls. Lyney hushes your loud moan, not to deter you but rather to comfort you.

Caressing the innermost parts of your thigh, the magician effortlessly holds you from underneath to help you relax around his cock. He can see your back muscles loosen up, and he whispers to you, “Look up—look at the moon—she’s our spotlight, yeah?”

“Keep your pretty eyes on the heavens. I promise I’ll take you there,” Lyney coos, the timbre of his voice laced with longing. You were hopelessly ensnared in his web of passion and temptation, more than willing to submit to his saccharine words and whims. He smiled, praising you as your eyes drifted up to the full moon. “Je t'aime.”

Just as your reply was on the tip of your tongue, the magician squeezed the bottom of your thighs and finally bucked his hips up ruthlessly into your cunt. Despite how much Lyney prepared you for this position, he still stole your breath away. It was all you could do to meet the intensity of his thrusts. “L-Lyney…! Oh my god, fuck… keep going, p-please…”

Your orgasm was already stirring in the depths of your pelvis with Lyney pounding against your G-spot repeatedly without fail. His grip on the flesh of your hips became possessive, a low growl following his rapid thrusts. “Did I say to stop touching yourself? I want you a fucking mess on my cock.”

Apologies weren’t what he wanted. This was the final act of the night before you were to be separated for Archons knows how long. Lyney wasn’t about to waste this precious time without giving you the moon, the stars, and the whole damn universe—rocketing you to your climax after you fingers messily flitted across your clit.

“Lyney! I’m cumming, a-ah!” you nearly screamed in pure ecstasy and amazement, your legs quaking and threatening to collapse onto him. Waves upon waves of pleasure wash over you. You couldn’t believe how he relentlessly fucked your release into your sopping pussy, utterly blissed out and wishing for his seed like a whore.

Coaching you through your strongest orgasm yet, he exhales heavily and clutches you tightly, “That’s it, that’s it. Yeah… Sing for me, mon amour. You feel so, so good.”

Just as your climax reached its crescendo, Lyney’s cock twitched inside you and dribbled cum out of your abused hole when he pulled out. His fingers were buried into your skin, certainly enough to leave a bruise on your hips in the morning. Even though the magician was exhausted after the night’s worth of lovemaking, he spun you around and captured your lips softly—wanting to taste your post-orgasmic pants for air.

“It’s a shame,” Lyney chuckled warmly into your mouth, seemingly unable to detach himself from your decadent lips. “I really liked this dress on you.”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.

[persicipen]

orgasm denial ノ jiaoqiu

₊ ˙ ⊹ . the sly fox he is, he corners his beloved apprentice under the excuse of examining the fatigue that you’ve been complaining about the entire day. definitely not planning to exert you even more, no, he’s not like that, hehe…

ৎ୭ — · · 3.3k ノ afab gn reader — sponsored through @ficsforgaza project ノ reader is jiaoqiu’s apprentice and they have a close relationship ノ reader is wearing panties and a simple robe . no other descriptions ノ fingering . oral — reader receiving ノ lots of biting and teasing ノ overstimulation . orgasm denial . edging ノ vague mention of using aphrodisiacs ノ set before 2.5 version!

You’re in a defenceless position now. On the two-seat couch, so it’s comfortable under your back, the woven embroidery caressing the bare fragments of your shoulders. Quite nice, indeed, especially after tiring yourself out the entire morning and afternoon. Except that what you’re worried about is the lower part of your body — with your simple robe crumpled up on your tummy, your legs are completely naked, and so is your underwear on display.

Today was a working day, and you planned nothing of that sort to happen, so the panties were cotton, plain, and perhaps a size too large. Not a garment to cry over after messing it up due to crawling under the alchemic table or sitting on the floor in search of proper ingredients in the lowest row of shelves.

Who knows… Exactly! You didn’t want anyone to question your choice of garments!

However, losing it because of a certain pair of mischievous hands, busy playing too close to the hem, would be an entirely different story.

With your knees pressed together and up in the air, legs bent leisurely above your belly because there’s just no more space to straighten yourself out on the small loveseat, Jiaoqiu can see everything — and no matter how hard he tried to convince you he doesn’t look anywhere but your face, you know all too well that he also peeks at your panties.

“Why are we doing this?” You sigh, wishing your trembling voice wouldn’t sound as flustered.

“You said your inner thighs are all chafed after today. Let me see, and maybe I will get you something to soothe the irritation,” he coos, tucking his hair behind the golden hairpin with a free hand.

You catch a glimpse of a subtle smile.

Why is he enjoying this? Is this a usual occurrence for him, checking out vulnerable apprentices with such dedication?

No, you think to yourself. This would be too unprofessional, no matter how perverted this foxian may be. A weird superstition given that this entire situation is way too arousing to be considered a coincidence.

“Why are your hands near my underwear then? And not on my inner thighs?” you pout, masking the quiver in your voice with a displeased tone.

“A good question, indeed.”

He chuckles, and for a moment, his honey irises meet yours. His tail sweeps across the armrest of the seat, a fiery paintbrush, mesmerising in the dim room. Only a few candles remain burning from after work; the flames are about to go out soon.

Finally, his hand moves, and your breath hitches — yet it lands not where you hoped but rather on your left ankle. He holds it in his palm like a bird, rotating it a little with ease to get a better look at your body.

You move your gaze away from him, attempting to observe how low the candle wax is dripping while trying not to let the panic flood your mind.

The serenity of the office becomes an increasing annoyance, as there is nothing to distract you from your, who takes his time shamelessly examining your body. His hands caress your leg, fingers tickling your ankle, before they move onto the soft underside of your knee.

It is impossible to pretend any longer that this doesn’t affect you at all. You still try to seem relaxed, the opposite of the reality that is the heat rushing to your face. The sensation is unbearable — you find yourself parting your legs without even thinking about it, only for him to click his tongue.

“Don’t open them up so suddenly, heh…”

His words are almost unintelligible with how mellow his voice becomes, and you bite your lip. Surely, there’s no other option than to ignore him. With a shaky exhale, you press your lips together in a thin line when he holds your leg in his hand like that, moving it as he pleases and leaning closer.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious,” he says after a while, trailing your thigh, exploring the expanse of your body so tenderly, yet with an evident confidence and the precision that could only come from a master healer.

“Oh, good to hear it. Then—”

“Instead, I would be more concerned about how you get goosebumps whilst being so warmed up.”

You purse your lips, too dumbfounded to utter a quick reply, but then his hand brushes against your pussy.

The simplest of touches, almost accidental, yet it catches you completely off-guard. A small yelp leaves your lips before you can bite your tongue, and a cold rush of embarrassment floods your senses.

He pauses for a second, but his fingers don’t move away from where they touch you. Even through the material of your undies, the skin feels a tad rougher than yours, worn out by years of studying alchemical medicine and mixing salves. You remember seeing how scarred they are up close, with tiny burn marks, cuts, and spots where the oils he uses during the process of making tonics left their imprints on his palms, shining pale in light at a certain angle, but nothing serious.

Despite all this, you have always thought of his hands as beautiful, even more after realising that so many years spent on harsh treatments barely left any traces thanks to his regeneration.

And now you get to feel them for yourself.

Come what may, but this entire situation draws the worst second-hand embarrassment out of you. Because you find it hot. Anxiously discomforting, but hot.

Maybe it isn’t farfetched to say you would love to receive the same attention inside of you, too…

Fingertips move up, following the delicate curve, until they reach the hem of your underwear, again. You quiver and let out a quiet exhale, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You keep breathing like this. It’s endearing. Even might call it — funny,” he points out, gently tugging at the loose band.

It’s a soft gesture, but you can’t ignore how your panties get tighter on your body. It makes you whimper, hips twitching in his grasp.

“Don’t worry, I will just check if you have any chafed skin there.”

“Surely I don’t. That’s a weak excuse! I can guarantee I haven’t done anything that could cause it there.”

Jiaoqiu chuckles softly, running his other hand through his hair, fixing the loose bun behind.

“I think you shouldn’t judge that so hastily,” he hums, his gaze turning a bit more intense. “Remember when you had to sleep in the storage room after studying late and your robe got caught up on the shelves?”

You can’t help but let out a long, flustered whine.

This foxian has the guts to bring up this event from months ago. The only explanation for this is that he has some kind of perverted fantasy regarding such occurrences.

“Why would you mention that?” You mumble, yet your voice is immediately hushed by Jiaoqiu.

He slides your underwear off without a word, exposing your naked lower body to his prying gaze. Feeling your heartbeat speed up as his hand lands on you once more, you let out a soft squeak of surprise.

This time it’s skin against skin.

You flinch once again as his palms press against the flesh and part your folds open with a pair of his thumbs.

He notes your mood, too observant with a golden glimmer dancing on his lashes as he bats eyes down where the pleasantly lukewarm body gets all soggy just from the contact with his hand — first droplets of dew sneaking through the gaps under his fingers.

“Now you will take a good look just to torment me, hm?”

“I won’t deny the temptation.”

With a tap on the centre of your clit, knuckles pressed against the warm and damp inside of your pussy lips, his gently curled fist fits too well between your legs, hard bones dipping into your mound.

That earns you another flick of his thumb, a humble circle done agonisingly slow so you barely feel a thing except a missed chance for pleasure.

He’s mean, the way he’s working you up, just to see where your limits end and how quickly you get too feverish, uncomfortable under the intimate touch without him proceeding.

That is not yet time; you are his toy today, a thing to play with and get soaked in your own essence.

“W-what are you…” Your words get cut off with a deep gasp.

He uses both hands to spread your folds, only to resume a waning touch of an elegant finger tracing your slit and bumping into a nub, which gives a pleasant tickle to your insides, warm muscles tensing in anticipation of release — when there isn’t much more he can do without taking care of it.

“What am I doing? Silly question. I just like teasing!” Jiaoqiu coos then, kneading you as if he were preparing the dough for making bread. Maybe he thinks of you like that, too, a snack to be eaten with so much joy he would have to lick his fingers clean afterwards.

But he is merciful and decides to play nice, granting you the attention you’re crying for after having his digit dip into your wet core.

“J-jiao, can you stop… already?” You finally break through the barrier of incoherent syllables when he pulls his index out, just to press into your hole again, catching its slippery walls from within and patting a certain spot. “Ngh—!”

As a response, or a lack thereof, he bites a piece of skin between your pelvis and the thigh, enough to leave a vivid bruise and pull a cry out of your throat. Your eyes shut, teeth sink into the bottom lip as you try to contain yourself. There is no need to let the evening shift staff hear what is happening behind the walls of his office — the apprentice’s cunt being played with by the foxian man who should remain no closer than a master of healing.

“Hehe, at least you can behave. Glad I don’t need to remind you to keep your mewls down.”

There isn’t much else you can do than let him indulge in the treat that is your body, sinking into it as though you were but a pillow. Even when you try to shift away, or lean into the sensation that is spreading like a drop of dye in clear water, it never lasts — he changes the pace just enough to not let you get used to it.

Like the master healer he is, he turns you into a doll with all its soft parts exposed, easy to bend at joints to make sure that there is no room for your hips to escape.

And the thighs, which try to clasp around his head, stay where they are, stretched open so the juncture of soft flesh doesn’t block him from the view, nudged away with his free arm.

But his attention travels further down to a spot where you get drenched entirely, your hole shimmering an abundance of slick, like honey, with a delicious scent that attracts his tongue.

What you feel next is but a flickering suckle on your clit. A quiet little noise breaks from your throat. Jiaoqiu peeks at you then, once again looking up, his fox-like ears pointed in your direction to listen for any signs of what he should do next — something he probably could ignore, given how expert he is at reading your body language if not for the pure joy of hearing you succumb to pleasure.

Still, he seeks any kind of verbal cues — his teeth nibble on your pearl just enough to spark a string of fireflies leading up to your heart. A playful flick of his tongue follows right after, swirling around the bundle of nerves in such a manner that leaves you on the brink of release.

Yet instead of continuing, he pulls back and winks at you.

“Quite the special taste you’ve got there. Addicting, that’s for sure.” He purrs.

“Jiaoqiu!” You swat him on the ear, although weak and without ill intentions, to which he only giggles. “It’s already too much!”

“Hmm, you think so? Thought it’s not enough, actually, if taking into account how you writhe whenever I stop.”

“Please, just— just do your thing, please! Make me come!”

Your hips roll just barely to meet him and — as if encouraged by the movement — he sinks into you anew, with enough will to elicit an immediate gasp from your lips, its pitch rising up high as his tongue sweeps all over your folds.

Jiaoqiu steals a look at your visage before going all out to devour. Slobbering sounds almost loud enough to drown your moans.

He holds your legs spread as they threaten to press around his neck, constrict him just to let out pleasure from the prickling sensation of his mouth on your cunt, tongue pressed flat against the soft skin and swirling long licks that catch droplets of clear fluid.

His body moves with sinuous agility, fingers stroking up and down your thighs before turning towards the apex and poking into the delicate tissue, a thorough inspection, testing you from the inside until he can feel a clench around his knuckle that makes your breath hitch in an unwanted moan.

He keeps pumping inside and spits on your clit, even when it is thoroughly lubricated with your own slick, which your pussy won’t stop producing no matter how ashamed you are of being this needy.

Safe to assume he already had an aphrodisiac on his nails or on his lips, imbuing the saliva and passing onto your body; it would make your skin tingle with a gentle warmth, like an expensive perfume. But it’s not the only thing it did to you, the pit of your stomach getting itchy, twisting around like there was something dangerous there, perhaps a trap that would swallow you whole — such is this delirious feeling.

“Don’t tell me you can’t endure it any longer, pup… I thought about using my cock on you, now that you’re all wet and ready. Would you like that?”

“No, please. Just let me come… I can’t take it anymore!”

You don’t even know what you want anymore — the stimulation is making your muscles cramp up with tension that seeks an outlet, but this position gives little opportunity for any leverage, and now your chest is heaving under shallow breaths.

“Maybe I’ll just use your thighs… That’s also fine with me.”

“Jiao, no! Don’t tease me…”

He twists your body just enough to shift his attention onto the side of your pussy, lips pressing over the sharp bones of the hip, leaving a kiss on the dip right above the thigh, where there are little red patches, remnants of an evening snack he had before returning home. It is messy with bites, marked with tiny, oval bruises from his teeth, dotted by his sharp canines that irritated the delicate skin.

He purrs like a cat, hushing the outcry that dribbles down your mouth in a succession of choked up moans.

Then it comes. A suck on your bundle of nerves that makes you arch and whimper, and a sudden bite right after, when the tingling of pleasure doesn’t dissipate but mixes with a jab of pain into the disarming release.

You jolt forward, cunt rubbing against his nose as it overtakes you entirely, hand fisting in his hair and almost squishing his ear. Only then do you manage to successfully get him away from yourself — too late to stop the spasms that absorb the strength from your limbs, but at least dealing with the ripples of orgasm on your own until they slow down. There is but a tremor still twitching the skin above your inner thighs, a sniffle matching the rhythm of your pulse, and a hazy look on your face.

A puerile giggle cuts through the hot puffs of air between you two, a fleeting moment before Jiaoqiu plants a kiss on your stomach, wet lips leaving an imprint of his smile on your flesh, as though he‘s glueing his cheerfulness onto you with his saliva.

“Did I do a good job?” he asks with a hum.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You vent out a few words out, although there is little conviction behind them — no will to actually scold him. Instead, you move your legs apart as he wiggles out from your thighs, your skin ticklish after what has just happened.

“Hmm, that pretty face you’ve been making this entire time should suffice for an answer, then.”

You turn your head away. There is no way of looking him in the eye after all this. But Jiaoqiu doesn’t let you brood for too long, placing himself over your body with a bounce, tail dancing behind his back. You are faced with him again, his hands cupping both of your cheeks.

“Since when did you become so shy? Why can’t you look me in the eye?” He chuckles at you, tilting his head. “Ah, I get it! Still sensitive from my touch.”

“I’m not talking to you.” You repeat the words with an unwilling smile. He is playing dirty, acting as if he wasn’t the reason for your dishevelled state in the first place. “What if you ruined the seating?”

“No, no, my beloved. If anything, it’s you who ruined the seating.” He brushes you off with a gentle rub on your cheeks, an idle caress he seems to find soothing, or maybe he enjoys how bubbly hot your skin is whenever he flusters you beyond belief.

Still, there is an almost possessive pinch to his touch, coupled with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

“Nonsense.” You whisper, shivering as he keeps looking at you. “We both know who was the one at fault here.”

“And you loved every second of it.” He lowers his voice, grazing the tip of his nose over your own, moving close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, wet lips glistening just inches away from yours. “But I don’t intend to tease you any longer. I feel like I would pay for that with more than dealing with just that adorable pout on you.”

There is no use in arguing with him. Your body remains too weak, trembling legs at last easing into relaxation. Jiaoqiu gives off a loving presence, even when there is nothing else to tell what is going on in his head. You simply let him be, maybe naive or maybe rightfully trusting that he’s telling the truth this time. He slides off the sofa, as agile and elegant as ever, not a trace of his waggish doings beside maybe bangs ruffled on his forehead.

“I will check on the eatery and if they need any help with closing. Rest for now, and I will come get you when it’s time to move you to bed. Will you be good until then?”

“Of course I will.” You say, already beginning to feel drowsy.

Jiaoqiu chuckles softly despite shaking his head and leaves the room whilst fixing the braid behind his head.

[gay-dorito-dust]

aaa ok hear me out on this. So I'm pretty sure you've mentioned that darling is one of Damians go-to petnames for his s/o. What about a little thing where his s/o normally will call him by his name but they end up calling him darling by accident? My english is terrible so sorry if this doesn't make much sense 😭

‘Where could it be.’ Damian muttered to himself as he practically tore his bedroom apart with his bare hands. ‘The stupid thing couldn’t have gotten that far.’

Damian had lost where he had placed his art pencils and couldn’t quite recall where he left them either, which was unlike him as he always had excellent recollection in the whereabouts of his and others belongings. Today however it seemed as though no matter how hard he racked his brain, Damian just couldn’t remember where he last left those stupid -yet expensive- set of charcoal pencils.

‘Tt, this is getting ridiculous now,’ Damian said to himself as he wiped the sweat from his brow that had accumulated from searching high and low for art supplies, ‘it’s not as if they could’ve grown legs and walked off somewhere.’ It wasn’t until that moment did Damian realise that you had came back from your trip to the kitchen for a snack as you stood in the doorway of his room, looking at the mess that you were certain wasn’t there beforehand.

‘Damian, what’s going on here, it’s not like you to just turn your room into a pig sty just because you felt like it.’ You told Damian as you stepped into the room, suspecting the mess before looking back at your boyfriend who was usually good at keeping his room tidy and well organised, but the heavy pout on his lips and the furrow in his brow told you that there was a reason to the sudden mess.

‘I can’t find my charcoal pencils.’ He replied shortly, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘Well you’re certainly not going to in this mess.’ You retorted sarcastically, causing Damian to scoff, ‘why didn’t you try and recall the last place you put them.’ You added, trying to be helpful in this situation.

‘I did but they weren’t there.’ Damian tells you as he went back to tearing apart his room to search for his missing art pencils when something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention; it was Damian’s charcoal pencils, peaking out slightly from his bag alongside his sketch pad and paintbrushes. It wasn’t easy to spot but they were there and it was a surprise to you that Damian hadn’t seem to notice this at all, but that’s what made the entire situation just that little bit more hilarious then it should’ve been.

‘Damian.’ You called.

‘Not now y/n.’ He replied, heavily focused on finding these stupid pencils before he had to head off for school.

‘Damian.’ You tried again, now holding his bag in your hand, getting ready to show to him for when he looked up from under the bed.

‘Tt. Unless you’re going to help me, don’t distract me from-‘

‘I found your art pencils darling.’ Your voice cuts Damian off completely, leaving him taken aback but it wasn’t because you had found his pencils as he scrambled out from under his bed and stood up to see you holding his bag, which did indeed have his charcoal pencils in upon closer inspection.

‘What?’ You asked upon seeing his face.

‘What did you just say?’ Damian said.

You made a face and raised the bag a little higher. ‘I found your charcoal pencils?’ You replied albeit confused and a little worried that something was wrong with your boyfriend, did he hit his head as he was getting himself out from under his bed? You weren’t quite sure as you didn’t hear anything that could indicate that being the case.

‘Not that,’ Damian snipped, the search having left him feeling exhausted, agitated and embarrassed, ‘after that.’

‘I said Damian.’ You told him, your concern growing stronger the longer this went on.

Damian groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. ‘Darling, you called me darling.’ He spat out as a silence befell you both as the realisation sat in for you, meanwhile Damian was looking away from you with slightly flustered expression.

‘Oh.’ You said after a while. ‘Do you…do you hate it?’ You then asked as you looked down at your feet, finding them to be the most interesting thing in the room right now as your heart went crazy within your rib cage. Pet names weren’t new for either of you but you didn’t use them on a regular occurrence like regular couples, sure Damian called you darling or treasure but that was mainly behind closed doors or as little people as possible, but other then that you’ve rarely used them in any other context.

‘No, my treasure I didn’t hate it,’ Damian said softly as he managed to compose himself enough to walk over to you and take his bag from your hand, putting it on the bed before taking your hands in his, ‘I was just taken aback that is all.’ He reassured you by pressing a gently kiss to your forehead. If anything Damian liked it when you called him darling, it sent his heart a flutter and ignited a fire within his soul as his entire body grew warm by a simple pet name from your lips, however this was something he was yet to be comfortable in admitting to you in confidence but he will one day.

‘Does that mean I can call you it more often?’ You asked, already making up future scenarios where that would be the case within your mind in hope of seeing that very same flustered expression on across his face once more.

‘If you must, please do so in places where my siblings are out of range to hear.’ Damian said, smiling softly as you beamed in happiness, this was what he lived to see every day of his life, just you being extremely happy and happy with him; Something he hoped that he could continue to make you far into the future you shared together.

‘Deal.’ You said as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Darling.’

[fen-luciel]

Jealousy part 3

Part 1_2

Warnings: age gap/toxic behavior

Vernestra-Padawan reader/jedi Qimir

Leave a comment and share if you are enjoying the story.

It was less than two days after that dinner that I confronted my master during one of her working nights.

I went to visit her late, the deserted hallways and dim lights guiding me as I made my way to one of the meeting rooms where I knew she would go when she needed a place to concentrate.

I had been tossing and turning for a long time in bed. Time passed as usual, yet it felt as if I had a clock ticking over my head. I could hear the ticking of the seconds, a countdown that kept me awake, though I couldn’t understand its end or meaning. Or rather, I suspected what was tormenting me... no.

I knew.

That acidic feeling twisting my stomach was tied to all those memories that kept replaying in my head, sweet memories that I felt were inevitably becoming more and more tainted every day. I had decided that I needed to take a break, some distance, to grow. And if I couldn’t manage that, then it would be ridiculous to complain about something I wasn’t trying to change myself.

So, I gathered my courage.

As soon as I left my room, I realized that Vernestra was not there. In the shared living room, there were still signs of her passage, like some books piled on the table, the chair moved, and the lamp turned off and left near the rest. Just to be sure, I checked her bedroom, but my suspicions were confirmed when I saw the bed still perfectly made.

I went out after putting a cloak over my pajamas. I knew exactly where she was when she needed her space to work, so I took the stairs to the lower floors.

It was late at night, the moonlight outside lighting my path even though it was mostly clear, given the simple and empty hallways of the Jedi Temple. From a distance, I saw the orange light under the door that I recognized well. I knocked a couple of times before opening it, knowing that just as I expected to see her there, she knew that only I would come looking for her. And indeed, when I stepped into the room, she didn’t even lift her eyes to look at me.

She was sitting at the center of the large oval table, numerous papers spread before her, with some secondary, warm-toned lights illuminating the table's surface. I closed the door behind me using the Force as I approached, sitting on the opposite side from her, the cloak wrapped tightly around my waist, the hood over my head to shield me from the light evening breeze coming through the cracked windows.

“Trouble sleeping?” she asked, breaking the silence that had surrounded us after a few minutes of my entrance.

Her eyes remained fixed on the papers she was reading and marking with a pen from time to time. I stared at her in silence, mesmerized by those simple gestures, the rough sound of the pen scratching the paper and the surface beneath it. I could have lived that moment for the rest of my life. In peace.

"I need to talk to you," I began after exhaling deeply. I pulled my feet onto the chair to hug my legs tightly, a cold I didn’t understand shaking me to the core. I don’t know if she noticed something was wrong or if it was just a natural reaction to my words, but she stopped writing to finally look me in the face, her expression furrowed, perhaps picking up on something in the few words I had spoken.

“Of course. Tell me, my padawan.”

I pursed my lips into a line before clearing my throat. I looked away for a moment before meeting her gaze again, Qimir’s name echoing in my mind, "I’d like to receive a mission away from the temple for a while. I need a change of scenery. I feel ready." That last sentence connected to what had happened some time ago when I had a breakdown in Qimir’s arms. We had agreed together that I would stay near the temple until I felt safe again. Even the missions we had done together had always been in safer, more controlled locations. But now, I needed that distance, even if I didn’t feel quite ready.

She placed the pen on the table, her posture now composed as she leaned back in her chair, her fingers slightly intertwined in front of her on the smooth surface. "Is that what’s making you so restless? I could feel you were agitated in your room."

Obviously, she understood that something was going on. It was impossible to pull the wool over her eyes in such a childish way. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you," I replied, buying myself a few moments to think.

She shook her head, her gaze still fixed on mine, making me uneasy. I could almost feel her thinking, as if she were trying to read my mind through my eyes. "Please. You know I would have come here anyway. It helps me focus. But, you haven't seemed at ease these days. I was hoping you’d come to talk to me when you felt ready, and now this is what you're asking me? Is there nothing else?"

We were both whispering, perhaps caught in the stillness of the quiet evening, yet her words hit me like a slap. Of course there was more, I wasn’t a good liar, or maybe the lie itself was too far-fetched to be believable. But I needed to distance myself from Qimir.

"I'm... suffocating here. I want to try and take that next step, even if... it scares me." I admitted, without revealing too much, pulling the fabric of my cloak tightly around my knees, curling into a cocoon on the chair.

There were a few more moments of silence before she lowered her gaze back to her papers. "Alright, you could actually help me with these senators. It’s nothing complicated—you’d mostly be there to reassure them. I can send you with Qimir if—" but I cut her off abruptly, my tone sharper. "No."

I realized my mistake, but it was too late to take it back. She looked at me, still hunched over the sheet she had picked up, then slowly set it down before leaning forward onto the table, her elbows on the surface, hands clasped together once again. "No to the mission? Or no to Qimir?"

She already knew the answer, I could hear it in her tone when she said his name, emphasizing and drawing out the letters. Whether she wanted me to admit it or not, it was obvious she had already figured it out. Their relationship hadn’t been great for a while now, and I knew that well. Still, she had never said anything bad about him in front of me, but now she seemed ready to point fingers.

"I... should go alone, right?" I didn’t feel up to voicing my doubts about Qimir. The guilt was eating me alive, and I didn’t think I had any right to accuse him of anything, but I also couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine in a relationship I was starting to feel trapped in. "It's not about Qimir. Really." I sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than her. "I want to take the next step. To move forward on my own."

I struggled to meet her gaze, preferring to focus on the slight fluttering of the papers scattered across the table, swaying at the corners with the light gusts that came rhythmically every few minutes. She, on the other hand, was seeking out my eyes with thinly veiled insistence. "And that's it? Nothing else to add? If something’s bothering you, you should tell me, padawan."

I nodded. "I need to move forward."

Long moments followed my words, as I lost myself in the light scratches on the table’s surface, and she remained still, her gaze fixed on me. "Okay. Then..." she finally moved, reaching for the datapad casually resting to the side. "Here." She placed the device in the center of the table in front of me. Moments later, a hologram of a planet appeared. "This is Ord Mantell. There are conflicts on the planet due to particularly violent political debates. They have no shortage of soldiers, and the Jedi haven’t been requested as assistance, but there’s a shortage of doctors and nurses. I’ve been organizing a potential team to send, and you could act as an assistant, helping out in the field."

I listened in silence, but with a light in my eyes that grew brighter with every word she said. I had always wanted to serve as a medic. I’d asked her countless times, even at the cost of falling behind on missions, a request she had always denied—until that night.

"Really?!" I squealed, more excited than I wanted to admit, and she nodded.

That was enough to distract me from Qimir, even more than I had imagined at first. I went to bed excited, but also a bit nervous, afraid that it was all just a dream or worse, a lie. But the next day, when I came out of the bedroom, everything was already prepared.

My bags, the transport, the mission details.

Everything.

I couldn’t help but notice the more pronounced bags under Vernestra's eyes, a sign that she had spent the entire night organizing my departure. I didn’t thank her verbally, knowing she wasn’t the type. A single glance was enough to show her how much I appreciated what she had done for me, and I knew from her smile that she had received the message.

It was still early morning when I got into the taxi that would take me to the spaceport where the rest of the team was waiting. I didn’t look back twice, caught up in the euphoria.

There wasn’t room to think about anything else.

From the first day I set foot there, I was already swamped with duties. The situation was truly tragic, between refugees and soldiers. Being there as part of the humanitarian aid meant we had the responsibility to help anyone in need, which in practice meant our base was completely packed in every corner.

The main hospital in one of the safe towns was the gathering point for all sorts of aliens—displaced children, homeless families, wounded of every kind. They were everywhere, crammed inside and outside the base where a tent camp had been set up for when there weren’t enough beds.

For the record, I don’t think I ever saw a bed free.

Once again, my expectations didn’t compare to reality. Sure, they teach you to be ready for anything, but reading or hearing about it was nothing like the real thing.

Maybe I was too young to be there. I wasn’t even the youngest, actually—I saw ten-year-olds helping as best they could, carrying medicine and tools to those who needed them. But there was a huge difference between us.

You could see the war and pain in their eyes. The galaxy had already marked them deeply, but me... I was weak.

I don’t know how many attempts it took me to get used to the pools of blood, the terrifying wounds of the soldiers, the cries of the families. It was all psychologically crushing, to the point that I even considered quitting.

Not the mission.

The Jedi.

I didn’t even have the stomach to help those in need. Was it really worth doing a humble job like a librarian or a caretaker?

Maybe they were better than me—they were there out of vocation, not to run away. I, on the other hand, wanted to flee.

Maybe being a Jedi wasn’t my path.

I stayed there for months. I told myself I’d talk to my master about my thoughts when I returned. Maybe it was too early to judge myself, maybe I really just needed time, maybe I needed to be forced through it. But... wasn’t that all wrong? The fact that I was in the middle of a war at such a young age. Inexperienced... alone.

I managed to make some friends, meet other Jedi, but I still felt a void.

I wanted to talk to my master about my doubts, but I didn’t want to worry her even more.

So, I called the one person I thought I was close to.

Qimir.

I felt uncomfortable calling him after disappearing for months without saying anything, but I believed he would understand. He knew better than I did the pace of our duties.

It was a particularly stressful evening that convinced me to call him. We had suffered many losses, and I had run away every single time. When the patients started gasping their final breaths, I froze, terrified. My hands would tremble, and I’d be pushed aside to make room for someone more capable.

I used to think death was quiet, yet all I kept hearing were breaths drowning in blood and bodies convulsing with unnatural, monstrous spasms, I would say.

I fled, leaving death behind, took a shower with the little freezing water that came from the showerhead, and threw myself into bed, but I couldn’t sleep.

I wanted to clear my head, but I had nowhere to escape to, so I thought of Qimir.

I needed him and his comfort.

So, I decided to call him.

He answered after a few minutes. I expected to see him looking sleepy, but what appeared before me was a very different image. He was wearing his usual tunic, his hair slick with sweat, his face dirty with soil.

"Look who’s shown up."

He smiled at me, but the warmth I was hoping for was nowhere to be found.

"Qimir... I didn’t mean to disturb you, but..." I pulled my legs to my chest, curled up on the bed, the blankets reaching my chin.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?" He interrupted, his voice low, hoarse.

"I... it was a last-minute thing. I talked to Vernestra and—"

He let out a laugh that cut off my words. "I bet. She wanted to get you away from me."

I looked at him, confused. My heart skipped a beat—something about the start of this conversation didn’t feel... right.

"What? No. It was something I had asked for and—"

"So, it was you who wanted to leave?" The question came out almost like a growl.

For some reason, I sat up on the mattress, something in the pit of my stomach making me feel uneasy.

"Qimir, what are you saying? Did... something happen?"

He stayed silent for a few minutes.

Something in his gaze was off... he seemed angry. Or maybe there was more to it—I could glimpse a sinister spark in his eyes.

"Vernestra didn’t tell you, did she? We’re at odds over you."

I remained silent, confused, trying to understand what he meant, and he took that as a cue to continue.

"I asked her to make you my padawan."

I wondered how long ago he had visited her,

"She refused."

I bit my lip, thinking. I wanted to try and lighten the conversation, but it didn’t seem possible. "Qimir... I... I don’t understand. I don’t know why you want me to—" I tried to speak slowly, searching for the right words, but a thud on the other end made me jump. "You don’t understand? Don’t you see? The bond between us? We’re meant for each other. You are mine." The icy expression he gave me took my breath away.

This... this wasn’t right.

"No, Qimir. You’re losing control. I want to help you, I’ll talk to Vernestra and—" another thud interrupted me. Wherever he was sitting, he suddenly stood up, his hands clenched into fists. Despite the small size of the hologram, I could still feel an aura... dark. Suffocating.

"I’m tired of hearing you mention her. She’s the one clouding your mind. I’ll deal with her, and I’ll show you who’s right."

He ended the call.

I sat there, mouth half-open, ready to say words I couldn’t even begin to form.

What was he doing? Why did everything seem worse now that I was away?

I wanted to call him back, but the thought made my hands tremble.

I wanted to call Vernestra, but I didn’t have the courage to say aloud what I was starting to suspect.

So, I wrote her a message.

A long message about Qimir and some of his behavior. I never explicitly mentioned his words—they were more suspicions and general doubts, not accusations.

Again, I was weak... I couldn’t accuse him of anything.

I sent it and got back under the covers.

I couldn’t sleep, and things got worse when I received a response in the middle of the night.

"Qimir has become dangerous to himself and others. Stay away from him. Don’t return to the temple until I tell you."

That was the last straw.

It was confirmation.

No need to say anything explicitly—she seemed to understand exactly what I was referring to.

I spent a long time reading and rereading that message, and the longer the minutes passed, the more a bad feeling weighed on me.

The Force seemed to speak through my nerves, a frightened voice telling me to move, to act before the worst could happen.

I didn’t think twice.

I got up on shaky feet and quickly packed a backpack with my essentials. There were only a few hours until dawn, and it was easy to find someone to ask for help among the other Jedi.

I didn’t say much, just that I wanted to speak to my master about the past few months. In less than three hours, I knew where to find her and was on a shuttle that would take me to the base in space where I’d board a small single-seater to reach my destination.

I ate some rations with trembling hands, spent hours in hyperspace, lost in my thoughts. I tried writing a message—actually, several messages to my master—but she didn’t seem to be responding.

So, in a panic, I wrote to Qimir, something casual asking where he was and what he was doing, but he didn’t answer either.

It could mean everything or nothing, but I was nervous. I needed to see her, to know more about what was happening between those two.

I reached the planet in the middle of the afternoon. It was mostly a research area, with a few peaceful towns, and miles of mountains and swamps. I landed in the town where I knew I would find her along with other Jedi. Nothing seemed familiar, but as soon as I introduced myself, I was warmly welcomed.

"Where can I find my master?" I asked.

The answer I received nearly gave me a heart attack.

"She’s up in the mountains, collecting more samples and traces. Why the rush, though? Not even two hours ago, Qimir was here asking about her as well."

I stammered some nonsense in reply and headed straight into the dense forest.

I didn’t realize that the directions, while accurate, were vague about the distance, and by the time I continued running, the sky had begun to darken.

I felt the Force calling out to me, screaming a warning—the sense that something terrible was about to happen. I wanted to believe I was just being paranoid, but I knew something was wrong.

I started to recognize traces on the ground—signs of digging, markings on the trees... and finally, the sound.

A man’s voice shouting.

I was exhausted from the running and the lack of sleep accumulating with each minute, but at last, I saw them.

They were at the edge of the forest, beyond a cliff that separated them from the other side of the woods.

"You abandoned me!" Qimir suddenly shouted, making me jump. Vernestra was staring at him intently without saying a word, her expression hard, her posture rigid.

"You’re losing your way. Surrender and let me help you."

At that moment, I noticed Qimir had his lightsaber in hand. As he moved to strike, I jumped out of the shadows, shouting his name.

Silence surrounded us.

Both of them realized my presence at that moment, looking at me in surprise.

Qimir whispered my name before taking a step toward me, his eyes wide. The coldness I had once recognized was now clear in his gaze. It terrified me.

Almost at the same time, Vernestra and I drew our lightsabers against him. I took a defensive stance, stepping back, my hands trembling.

"You’re pointing a weapon at me? After all the time we’ve spent together?" His voice was hoarse, low, almost a whisper that made me shake like a leaf.

"Qimir... please... you’re scaring me," I admitted, my eyes locked on his.

I don’t know if seconds or minutes passed, but his response was the final piece of that disaster.

"You’ve been deceived, just like I was, by Vernestra. But don’t worry, I’ll save you, my flower."

With a feline leap, he turned, his blue saber clashing with her purple one.

I stood there, frozen, watching them. I could barely recognize them, so angry with each other. The smiles, the jokes, the time spent together—it all seemed like it had never existed behind those furious eyes.

They fought relentlessly, without holding back. It was the first time I had ever seen two experienced Jedi in battle—fighting to survive a mortal duel.

I knew both of their combat styles well, as they had both trained me. I wanted to act, to move and help my master, but I didn’t have the courage. I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid of hurting Qimir or of the dangerous fight itself, but all I could do was watch, my mouth trembling.

I snapped out of my trance when I heard Qimir’s furious shout. "I will kill you!"

With a swift move, he struck her hard in the side, and without thinking, I rushed forward, putting myself between them and blocking his next blow.

"Qimir, please, no—" I managed to stop him again. My hands were shaking, and I was gripping my saber so tightly that my fingers hurt.

I pushed him back a few steps, my ears ringing, unable to sense my surroundings, too focused on him—on his rage-filled eyes, his furious strikes, the sound of our sabers clashing, too often close to my face, stealing the air from my lungs.

"Stay in your place, or I’ll teach you a lesson."

I blocked another strike, but I was naïve to think it would work again. With a precise slash, he cut my lightsaber in half, leaving me defenseless.

The crystal in the center of the hilt was shattered, now split into two pieces that I held in my hands.

Still in shock, I let my guard down, and he took the chance to throw me against a tree. I hit the ground, gasping in pain.

In front of me, Vernestra seemed to have recovered and reentered the battle.

The blow had stunned me, leaving my heart in my throat. I rubbed my eyes and got up to reach them.

Everything happened so fast.

A well-placed strike followed by a choked gasp.

I froze.

Vernestra fell to her knees, impaled by that blue saber, hers rolling across the ground toward me.

My ears were ringing.

It was as if my mind had gone blank.

Maybe it was survival instinct, or perhaps the shock I was feeling, but I moved without thinking.

Using the Force, I summoned her purple saber to me and, activating the whip, snapped it forcefully at Qimir’s back.

His scream of pain twisted my insides.

The look of shock and hatred in his eyes as he turned, losing his balance. Before he could move, I instinctively pushed him hard, away from Vernestra’s body.

Maybe I pushed him too hard.

When he stumbled back, finding himself at the edge of the cliff, he couldn’t regain his balance. The ground beneath him gave way, and he fell, staring at me—maybe scared, maybe betrayed.

The silence that followed was chilling.

I rushed toward Vernestra, but it was too late. Her body lay on the ground, her eyes wide open, empty, and the smell of burnt flesh filled my senses.

I wanted to lean over the edge, to see if Qimir was still alive, driven by the survival instinct that, now that everything was over, finally allowed me to recognize the danger.

No.

I didn’t move.

I remained on my knees in the dirt, a dull ringing in my ears that kept me from thinking.

And the lifeless body of my master, whom I had failed to save.

[magicalbats]

Fantasies Play Out

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18.921

Warnings: aphrodisiacs, pining & yearning, pathetic soggy men. femdom, overstimulation, handjobs, PIV, cowgirl position, dacryphilia, rimming, anal fingering, prostate massage, edging & orgasm denial

A/N: Alright, here's my longest comm yet. I'm so, so happy the commissioner gave me permission to post this because I simply MUST continue to spread my femdom agenda, and what better candidate exists for tribute than Kaveh? lol This was written using one of the lovely @tearsofcalamity's OC's, her name is Jeanne and she's ... quite the woman, haha. If you're anything like me you shouldn't have any problem at all self inserting with the text left as is so ... please enjoy! ❤️

⭐

Peering sullenly into his open wallet, Kaveh breathes out a single lamentable sigh over how much lighter it now was. Practically empty by all accounts, and what little mora he did have left would go very quickly. This he knew a little too well. 

He was struggling. No ifs, ands or buts about that. Between trying to stay caught up on the rent and his considerable debt payments (which hardly even put a dent in the total sum he owed to the renowned Lord Sangemah Bay) as well as the quite necessary bottles of wine he purchased for himself at the taverns and the shops, it was all going to be gone again in frustratingly quick order. And he’d only just returned from his most recent job out in the arid desert too. What a shame. 

It couldn’t be helped though. He’d needed these components for Mehrak and there wasn’t any getting around the costly price tag that came with them when one was working with a piece of complicated machinery as old and mysterious as his little helper was. He couldn’t exactly begrudge her for that. Mehrak may have been a costly sinkhole, an extra expense he hadn’t needed, but she was also an exceptionally good assistant. And, well. Perhaps she also helped chase away some of the isolated loneliness he’d felt closing in around him since he’d lost everything he’d worked so hard for, but there was no sense in dwelling unnecessarily on that. 

Mournfully clasping the purse shut and tucking it away into the safety of his pocket, Kaveh says to the ironworks shopkeep, “Thank you, Rahid. I appreciate you always keeping these bits and baubles on hand for me.” 

Because of course Mehrak needed parts of a very specific dimension that weren’t found anywhere else in modern Sumeru so they needed to be custom made. A costly sinkhole indeed. 

Sitting behind the counter, the elderly man sends him what can only be a sympathetic look from under the bushy, dusted gray droop of his eyebrows. He was happy to make the petite screws and nuts, and odd shaped bolts Kaveh needed since it kept food on his family table but evidently he wasn’t without his scruples. He’d certainly been around long enough to recognize when someone was limping steadily towards his last leg, yet he could only discount his wares so much without giving them away for free.

His sympathy just makes the blond’s stomach flip in on itself though, and he quickly busies himself with gathering up the handful of metal pieces laid out between them on the counter of the small shop. Pity was the very last thing he needed right now. 

“You should take it easy, old friend. You’ve been working an awful lot lately.” Rahid says in his usual low rumble, his voice permanently raspy after a lifetime spent working the forges, breathing in all the hot steam and iron smoke of his craft. 

“Ah, thank you but I’m afraid I don’t have any time for that at the moment. Someone is always in need of an architect, aren’t they? Busy, busy, busy.” Kaveh tries for nonchalant, tries to laugh it off like it’s no big deal as he slips Mehrak’s new screws into his other pocket where they wouldn’t stab him the next time he reaches for his wallet, but Rahid hardly seems convinced. 

In fact, the way he stares at him over the counter would seem to suggest that he could smell bullshit from a mile away, and he wasn’t impressed with Kaveh’s attempt at deflection. 

His deliberately casual laughter quickly morphs into nervous chuckling. “Hey, now. What’s with that look, huh?” 

Rahid narrows his eyes as if he wanted to give Kaveh a right and proper tongue lashing but says instead, “Well, as true as that may be - and I don’t doubt that it is given the quality of your work - you should still make some time for yourself. Take it from an old coot like me. You’re still young and capable. Don’t get so focused on your livelihood that you forget to live a little. You’ll regret it when you get to be my age. Surely there are some girls around the city who have caught your eye that you’d like to get to know?” 

Well, there was one, but she wasn’t from the city, or even Sumeru for that matter. 

She also wasn’t what Kaveh would call a girl either. 

Thoughts drifting idly to Jeanne only to inevitably take up camp there, Kaveh decides that she’s all woman and what a woman she was. 

Fontainian by birth and blood, she was an enforcement officer of the Maison Gardiennage who came to Sumeru on business with some amount of regularity. What that entailed was more often than not tracking down scoundrels that thought escaping to the opposite shore of the vast sea would save them from her wrath, or mora hungry merchants with a penchant for trouble and a bit too much free time on their hands. 

They’d happened to run into each other during one such incident involving a Fontaine trader who was underreporting his earnings to avoid paying all the taxes he owed. Having been in the wrong place at the right time, Kaveh, young and just as naive as he was now, had very nearly gotten duped out of a month's worth of pay by the shady businessman. But then Jeanne suddenly appeared like the hero in a storybook to interrupt the transaction before it was too late, saving him from what, in retrospect, had clearly been a scam. She’d made quick work of the lout and the two of them had become fast friends after that. Even now it struck Kaveh as being curiously fateful, that initial encounter. Like he was some hapless damsel in distress and Jeanne the noble chevalier of justice. 

But that was about where the fanciful tale ended. Years later they were still just friends despite Kaveh’s occasionally wistful thoughts to the contrary of someday being more and it’s not as if anyone could really fault him for that. 

Jeanne wasn't only pretty, she was downright stunning. And not in spite of the bisecting scars that ran across her face but because of them. He’d never seen someone quite so beautiful or captivating, and he more than anyone else had an eye for that sort of thing. There were very few in this world who understood the concept of aesthetic objectivity quite like he did, especially when others were much too focused on their own predefined subjective tastes to look past that. In many ways, Jeanne was the kind of woman he could see himself wanting to spend the rest of his life with. 

Unfortunately for him, she was unflappable and largely oblivious to the puppy faced looks of wanting he’d sometimes catch himself leveling at her, especially when they were drinking together. She always seemed to think it was just the wine talking, influencing his behavior and making him more needy (and whiny) than he normally was. Of course she wasn’t exactly wrong about that, but it was beside the point. While Kaveh undoubtedly appreciated her willingness to humor him in her own curious way during such moments, it didn’t exactly do much to soothe the yearning in his heart. More than anything he wanted Jeanne to take him seriously, but it looked like that was never going to happen. 

He's so caught up in these spiraling thoughts that he doesn’t even realize he’s letting out another groaning, long suffering sigh until Rahid chuckles a knowing sound in return. 

“That bad, eh?” 

Kaveh snaps his attention up, surprised at his own slip. “What? No. Nothing’s bad. Everything’s great, in fact.” 

The aging ironworker pins him with a critical, wisened look that seems to speak volumes. Clearly there would be no fooling a man nearly triple his age who’s been around long enough to have already seen and done it all, but that doesn’t exactly make Kaveh feel any better about being so damn transparent. 

“I’m afraid there’s no hiding it, boy. You can lie to yourself if you like but there’ll be no pulling one over on this old dog. I’ve heard that kind of sigh before. You’ve got a little sweetheart, don’t you?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He huffs, fluster quickly creeping up on him like a potent, thrumming buzz. “She’s not little. Th — I mean. I mean she wouldn’t be, if there was someone like that. But there’s not. I don’t have the time–“

“Alright, alright,” Rahid mercifully cuts off his floundering with a wave of his wrinkled hand. “I get it. There isn’t a girl you’re soft for.” 

“A woman.” Kaveh can’t help but correct him even when he knows he’s only digging his own grave deeper still. 

“Yes, of course. But if there was … what would be stopping you from courting the young lady? Surely you don’t lack for confidence? A handsome and successful architect such as yourself should have no problem getting anyone at all you set your sights on.” 

The blond hesitates, opening his mouth and then closing it again in favor of chewing on his bottom lip instead. He was tempted, oh, he was very tempted to lay it all bare. It’s not like he had anyone else to confide in about this sort of thing without running the risk of being laughed right out of the room. Or worse, stared at in contemptible silence and wordless judgment by the likes of that blasted Al-Haitham. He’d sooner take all his secrets to the afterlife before ever trying to have a discussion like this with the scribe. 

But Rahid was an old friend whom Kaveh has known for many years now and a decidedly trustworthy individual. He’d never sold him faulty parts or tried to price gouge him, hadn’t even asked what he needed these peculiar components for like many others might have. If there was anyone who could be trusted with this information it was probably him. 

Cautiously, Kaveh sends him a slow look of consideration. “Hypothetically speaking?” 

The old man nods in agreement. “Aye. Hypothetically.” 

“Well … if there were someone — and do keep in mind that this is purely speculative conjecture — if there were someone like that and they genuinely didn’t seem to realize I wanted to pursue them, what else could I possibly do to get my feelings across? Especially if they don’t even live here and I only get to see them on occasion …” 

Rahid lifts his brows in surprise. “She’s not from Sumeru?” 

“Hypothetically!” 

“Hmm. Well, I can see how that might cause you some trouble then. Trying to make a long distance relationship work is always hard. But, tell me boy, have you actually told her what you’ve just told me?” 

“I — I have, just … not in quite so many words, I guess.” Feeling his cheeks grow hot at the unbidden memory of grumbling out a half baked attempt to flirt with her the last time Jeanne had been in town, Kaveh drops his gaze and anxiously shifts from one foot to the other. It hadn’t worked, of course. He’d been so drunk and vibrating with liquid courage that he couldn’t even remember what exactly he’d said to her. All he knew with any certainty was that she’d softly tutted at him that he’d had enough for one night before wandering off to fetch him a glass of water. The lingering embarrassment was almost enough to make him feel faint. 

But at Rahid’s pressing sound of encouragement, Kaveh jumps at the chance and recounts the whole sorry tale to him in an impulsive rush that comes pouring from his mouth, unable to stop it even if he’d wanted to. He tells the old man everything; how they met, how simultaneously wonderful and imposing Jeanne could be at the same time and yet how oblivious she still seemed regarding his feelings. He even lamented, ad nauseum, how she never lost her composure while they were drinking long into the night together and how he couldn’t figure out how to crack her shell because of it. 

Eyes brightening at that last bit, Rahid abruptly leans forward against the rickety counter as if in great interest. “That right there sounds like your chance, boy. If she won’t hear you out sober, then you should do it when her guard is down. Everyone is more open to suggestions when they’ve got alcohol in them.” 

“But that’s the problem. No matter how much she drinks, she never lets her guard down. I don’t exactly consider myself a lightweight but she’s got the tolerance of a bear!”

“I see.” Murmuring thoughtfully, Rahid leans back to cross his arms in consideration. It’s clear he’s pondering over something with all the appropriate weight and gravitas the situation calls for. But he reaches his conclusion surprisingly quickly — much more quickly than Kaveh could ever make up his mind — and he stands with a soft scrape of his stool against the shop's floorboards. “Give me a moment. I think I may have something that could help you.” 

Blinking owlishly, Kaveh tracks his steps over to a stout cabinet pushed up against the side wall where he slides open one of the drawers with a dull jostle. 

“What do you mean? Don’t tell me you’ve got some hundred year old snake wine waiting on standby for just such an occasion or something?” 

“Ehh, not quite. But this should do just as well, if not better. Here we are.” Pulling out something that remains unseen in his blocky fist, Rahid closes the drawer back up and returns to the counter. Kaveh isn’t quite sure what to expect, but the petite glass vial he holds out to him is somehow the very last thing he could have guessed. There’s a faintly pinkish liquid inside that sloshes against the interior at the slightest shift and, squinting, Kaveh leans closer to get a better look. 

“What is that, some sort of alchemical potion?” 

“You’re not wrong, but you’re not exactly right either. Just take it. Trust me. You’ll be grateful you did the next time this young lady is in Sumeru. A few drops of this in her drink will have her, uh, loosening up quite a bit and you’ll have your chance to talk to her as much as you want.”

Kaveh shoots him a plainly horrified glance. “Are you telling me to drug her? She’ll kill me, Rahid, have you lost your mind?” 

“Archons above, this isn’t going to incapacitate her or nothing like that. Relax. My wife and I use this stuff to get in the mood with one another in our old age, that’s all. It just helps us with the warm up, if you get what I’m saying.” 

The blond offers a soft sound of enlightenment as if he understood perfectly now but, given the way Rahid critically eyes him, it’s clear the older man isn’t entirely convinced he does. 

For better or worse Kaveh is much too preoccupied with staring at the small vial in rapt fascination to notice though, and his hands idly clench into greedy fists where they’re braced against the counter. Regardless of his understanding or not, there was no denying the wisdom in Rahid’s suggestion. If Jeanne wouldn’t allow herself to drop her walls naturally then giving her a little nudge in the right direction was just the logical next step, wasn’t it? He was always much more loose lipped with a few drinks in him so if he could coax her into being the same … 

This really might be the thing that would finally tip the scales in his favor where the Fontanian woman was concerned. 

“How … how much would you want for that?” He finally brings himself to ask. 

“Nothing, old friend.”  The soft note of sympathy in his voice is clear as day, and it brings Kaveh’s attention up with a snap. Ignoring his hurried protests, Rahid reaches across the counter and bullies the glass bottle into his fumbling hands, adamantly refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Like I said, just take it. You need it more than I do, don’t you boy? My wife and I can get by without. Besides, it sounds like your situation is much more dire anyway. Just promise me you’ll take a break from working so much and put it to good use, eh?” 

Gently cradling the vial in his palms like it was some sort of precious, highly fragile artifact, Kaveh gropes for something to say. He couldn’t very well let it slip that he didn’t have much choice and reveal just how far from grace he’d fallen in the process, not without permanently staining his reputation as a capable and respected graduate of the Akademiya. 

But the greater meaning behind this gesture is not lost on him. Not by a long shot, and he finally settles on, “Thank you, Rahid. A thousand times, thank you. I hope you know how much I appreciate this.” 

Dismissing him with a brief wave of his hand, the old man quickly turns away, giving him his back. “Not another word about it, Kaveh. Now get out of here. Before I change my mind.” Then, like an afterthought, he adds, “I’ll make sure to have more of those components on hand for the next time you need them. Take care of yourself out there.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The little bell over the door chimes a merry sound as he steps out into the street and the humidity dense, year-long heat of Sumeru. The city is a constant buzz of noise and bustling activity, myriad smells from nearby cafes and vendors, but Kaveh hardly notices any of it while he makes his way down the road. His attention is all for the petite vial in his hand, so slight yet monumentally heavy against his palm. 

It was strange to think that something this small and seemingly benign could potentially be the answer to at least one of the many problems in his life. But as they say, matters of the heart are some of the most significant and challenging one can face, and he was inclined to agree. 

Financial problems could be parsed and sorted out in due time. Hell, even his living arrangements seemed stable enough for him not to have to worry about it too much at the current moment. Al-Haitham, for all of his bad attitude and unreasonable nature, seemed perfectly content with the way things were, even if Kaveh did sometimes suspect he’d only reached out a hand to lorde it over his head. Did that really mean it was okay for him to be expending this sort of energy on the issue of Jeanne rather than any of his other troubles though? 

“Well,” He murmurs softly under his breath, consideringly turning the bottle this way and that to watch how the rosy liquid inside reflects in the sunlight. “There’s no telling when I’ll even get to see her again so I think this should be fine. At least I’m prepared now.” 

Which was more than could be said before that exchange with Rahid. He’d have to remember to thank him properly for it later when he was back on his feet again, especially if the mysterious concoction ended up working a veritable miracle. Hopefully that wouldn’t be too far out in the future.  

Moreover though, the implication of what he was holding in his hand was a bit too tempting for him to think any better of it or reconsider his ready acceptance of this gift. Rahid had only said it would loosen her up but what exactly did that entail? He’d never seen her lose her composure before so Kaveh had no idea what that might look like. Would a truly inebriated Jeanne be clingy and soft with him? Prone to whining, the way he sometimes was? Or perhaps she would allow herself to laugh more openly, more freely without her self imposed walls there holding her back. 

The thought alone makes him huff a quiet laugh as he makes the turn into the packed market square, intending to cut through to get home a little quicker. “Yeah right, maybe when shroomboars sprout wings and fly. That would be awfully cute though …” 

And if her lips were loosened enough to coax a long anticipated yet never realized confession out of her? All the better then. She may not have taken him or any of his prior attempts at flirting seriously but surely she wouldn’t discredit her own actions once everything was said and done, right? 

Feeling oddly optimistic about the situation, Kaveh lifts his head to pay attention to where he’s going only to damn near drop the bottle in surprise when his eyes immediately alight upon a tall figure. The height as much as the manner of dress makes her stand out in the crowd, a feathered cap and a heavy coat worn over the shoulders that are at complete odds with the common attire. The burgundy red hair is what truly strikes a familiar note of wanting in his heart though, and he comes to an abrupt, lurching halt to stare at her in disbelief. 

She hasn’t noticed him just yet, only halfway through the motion of turning away from the owner of the shawarma stall she’d stopped at, but it didn’t really matter. He still recognized her on such an intrinsic, bone deep level that a shock of static electricity promptly surges through his entire body to set him abuzz from head to toe. Mouth going drier than the desert plains, he openly gapes at her like a beached fish. 

She notices him standing there another heartbeat later and, blinking at him in her closest approximation of startlement, Jeanne moves to face him. “Oh, what a coincidence. I was just on my way to pay you a visit. How have you been?” 

Kaveh fumbles desperately for something intelligent to say, coming up decidedly empty handed. It was like just the sight of her had short circuited his brain so beyond repair that no amount of trying to kick start it back into gear was working. There was simply no way, no way she’d just so happened to appear before him like this though. Was someone playing a cruel joke on him? Or had he finally cracked under the building pressure piling up around him and he was now hallucinating the singular object of his desires? 

But the longer he goes without responding the more her usually stoic expression pinches in vague concern, and he finally has to force himself to clear his throat with a rough cough so he can speak. “I - I’m fine. Good. Better than ever, in fact. What about you? I wasn’t … I didn’t expect to run into you like this.” 

Her suspicions evidently alleviated, Jeanne allows her expression to fall back to her usual neutral mask again. “I'm well. I thought about sending you a letter of correspondence prior to my arrival but I figured a surprise would do just as well. It’s not often I get the chance to drop in unexpectedly like this, after all. And for the better, it seems. Were you just on your way home?” 

“Oh, yes, I was just …” Kaveh trails off when a cold note of terror races down his spine. She didn’t yet know he’d lost everything. All of his furniture, his house, his beautifully maintained garden on the veranda that now belonged to someone else who’d no doubt swooped in like a vulture to buy up the gorgeous property he’d had no choice but to sell. He didn’t have a home to go back to unless you counted Al-Haitham’s largely minimal space and there wasn’t a god strong enough in this world or any other that could make him take her there. Even if she had sent him a letter there was a very real chance he never would have gotten it. 

“Kaveh?” Jeanne’s voice breaks through the muddled mess in his head as abruptly as if she’d sucker punched him, and he snaps out of it with a jolt. “Are you quite alright? You look a little pale to me.” 

“I’m fine!” He insists, a bit more loudly than he’d intended, only to grimace when she narrows her eyes again with renewed suspicion. “Sorry, sorry. I promise I’m fine, honest.” He quickly tries again, much more softly this time. “I just got back from a job out near Aaru Village, that’s all. I guess I’m still feeling a bit fatigued but it shouldn’t be anything a glass or two of wine won’t fix, haha… Come on. What do you say? For old times’ sake?”  

At his nervous attempt at laughter, Jeanne breathes out a quiet sigh and shakes her head. “Wine isn’t the solution to all of life’s problems, Kaveh. Haven’t I told you that before?” 

“Well, you’re not wrong of course, but in this case it most certainly is. You’ll see. Why don’t we just go down to Lambad’s for a drink? You’ve already got a snack to go with it.” 

Kaveh gestures towards the single serving of shawarma clasped in her hand and, as if she’d forgotten she was even holding it, Jeanne contemplatively glances down at the shishkabob skewer. Taking his chance while she’s not looking, he covertly slides the little vial into his pocket and safely out of sight before she can notice it. He hadn’t quite gotten so far as figuring out how he was going to slip a few drops of the mysterious substance into whatever she was drinking but thankfully she wouldn’t have reason to question him about it just yet. That solved at least one of the many problems her sudden appearance had presented. 

Now he only needed to stall her long enough to decide what he was going to tell her regarding his living situation. One issue at a time here. 

“I suppose I could do with a drink.” She says, bringing her attention back up just as he’s withdrawing his now empty hand from his pocket. “But you need to hydrate yourself before anything else if you’re feeling unwell after your travels. Promise me you’ll make sure to drink some water when we get there?” 

“Deal.” He gratefully blurts even as his heart gives a dully subdued flutter inside his chest. Jeanne, feared enforcer of Fontaine and scourge of all wrongdoers, worried about him? Kaveh would’ve been tempted to giggle over it like a schoolgirl had he not been so weak in the knees with relief. As long as he could keep her distracted enough that she didn’t start asking any prying questions, there was a very real chance he could still salvage this. 

Nodding once to indicate that the decision has been made, Jeanne leans down as if to grab the stately, heavy looking luggage at her feet. But even in his frazzled state Kaveh is still quick to jump into action and he lunges forward, snatching it up off the ground before she can. He falters though at the weight, a small grunt leaving him when he encounters more resistance than he’d anticipated. He quickly recovers though and bounces upright again with a victorious grin aimed at her even as his arm threatens to buckle under the weight of his new burden.  

Not looking particularly amused, she levels him with a frown. “You needn’t concern yourself with that, Kaveh. I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own suitcase, seeing as I’ve been doing just that up until now.” 

“I know that but please, I insist. Isn’t this what they call chivalry back in Fontaine? I’m just making sure you feel at home, that’s all.”

She tries to fight it but a brief, rueful smile still manages to grace her mouth. It’s as beautiful as it is fleeting, and Kaveh has to work very hard to keep his free hand from coming up to touch at the spot over his chest where his heartbeat is pounding out a staccato rhythm. He really did have it bad. Not that that comes as a surprise when he’d already known full well but there was something reassuring in having such a tangible confirmation that his feelings for her haven’t changed or lessened one bit since the last time they’d met for a meal and drinks. 

It fills him with a fresh surge of hope for the prospects of this unexpected chance encounter as they start to make their way down the road together. Still, though, he can’t shake the feeling that something seemed a bit unusual about her demeanor this time. Far be it that he was complaining but Jeanne wasn’t typically in the habit of being so laid back or relaxed, and that makes him shoot her a curious look. Her posture was as proud as ever yet seemingly less severe in the set of her shoulders and the sure sway of her hips. Most anyone else probably wouldn’t have caught on that anything at all was different but he certainly had. 

“You must have only just gotten here if you haven’t even dropped off your luggage yet. Talk about good timing. And forgive me for being blunt but you seem to be in a good mood today. What kind of job are you here for this time?” 

Another small smile pulls at her mouth, but this time it doesn’t immediately disappear. “There is no job. I’m on vacation. Lucky me, right?” 

Kaveh’s lips slowly part. She’d been given holiday from her obligations within the Gardiennage and she’d decided to spend that time in Sumeru? With him? He almost doesn’t believe his own ears even as he blurts, “Oh, that’s wonderful! You’re always working so hard, you’ve certainly earned yourself a break by now. But … you could have gone anywhere, right? Why here?” 

Jeanne sends him a lingering glance that he can’t decipher quickly enough before she turns her attention forward again with a quiet sniff. “Why not? I like it in Sumeru, and it’s not a very long trip. I’m familiar enough with the roads and the people that it just seemed like the logical conclusion.” 

“Ah, right. The old stomping grounds, eh?” He laughs, trying to cover up the distant note of disappointment that creeps in. Of course she wouldn’t choose to come here for him, specifically. He was just one of probably many faces that made up the familiar tapestry of the foreign city in her mind. His wishful thinking was going to get him in trouble some day. 

The physical manifestation of that was a heavy burden in his pocket that he couldn’t ignore when each step seemed to emphasize the weight of the vial resting against his thigh. Perhaps accepting Rahid’s offer had been a mistake after all. If there was nothing there in the first place then no amount of loosening up was going to improve his situation with her, would it? 

And that was to say nothing of the fact that he still had no idea what to tell her about his descent into poverty. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lambad’s Tavern isn’t particularly busy in the middle of the day but it’s not quite empty either, so Kaveh makes a point of picking out a secluded booth seat in the far back corner. He’d cited wanting to be away from the oud player and the crowd naturally drawn in by live music when she’d given him an odd look, but in reality he’d needed the relative privacy to get his head on straight. 

Over an hour later and he still hasn’t quite accomplished that, nor has he made a single decision on how to proceed from here. Not whether to tell her the truth or come up with a convenient excuse as to why he couldn’t invite her back to his place for a nightcap as he customarily did. Not whether to slip her some of the pink concoction when she wasn’t looking or toss it in the trash at his earliest opportunity to be rid of the evidence. Kaveh wasn’t normally this hesitant or irresolute but the situation was so littered with proverbial land mines that he feared making the wrong move a little too much to make any move at all. 

And Jeanne, in all the splendor and glow of the relaxed mood brought about by her holiday away from the court of Fontaine, was not making it any easier on him. 

“I did miss having your company, you know. Since I’m not on the clock this time I say we try to make the most of it while we can. I think we should go sightseeing together, actually.” She says, perfectly casual about it while she picks up her stout goblet from the table and takes a sip. He can’t help watching from the corner of his eye how the elegant line of her throat daintily bobs with the swallow but he quickly averts his gaze before she can notice. 

There was very little he wouldn’t give to press his mouth to that pale strip of flesh and nuzzle into her pulse. He felt like he was going mad. Jeanne de la Roche herself wanted to spend that much time with him? Willingly? It almost seemed too good to be true. 

“It occurred to me that I haven’t ventured out from the capital city or the port towns very much,” Jeanne goes on, idly swirling the glass in her hand now. “But Sumeru is a rather large country, isn’t it? I should think I’d like to see more of it.” 

Eager to busy himself with something so he can hide his jittery nerves, Kaveh leans forward to take up the decanter from the table and refills his own cup. He knew he was drinking a little too fast for a situation as precarious as this one but it couldn’t be helped. It would’ve seemed far more strange if he’d hardly touched his wine at all after pleading with her to come here. 

“Why, of course we can.” He tells her as amicably as he can manage. “I already have a few places in mind that I’d love to show you. I’m probably not the best candidate to play tour guide but … if you think you’re up for it, I can probably move some stuff around in my schedule.” 

Never mind the fact he didn’t yet have another job lined up after only just completing the last. His financial troubles had forced him to be a little more cautious about where and how he spent his time. Long gone were the days where he could leisurely mingle at the parties and grand openings hosted by wealthy businessmen or dignitaries who were keen on networking with him lest he run the risk of his secret getting out. Reputation was, unfortunately, a key factor in such stuffy social circles and he’d largely distanced himself from that particular crowd under the guise of being too busy to humor them. It was a vicious cycle and he could feel the pressure steadily closing in around him even now. 

But Jeanne didn’t need to know that. She’d probably understand it, given her own experiences dealing with courtiers and unreasonable noblemen who were accustomed to things being done a certain way, but he didn’t want to unload all of his woes on her. Not yet. 

Or preferably ever, if he was lucky enough to get out of it entirely. 

And she seems pleased enough with his willingness to accommodate her that he’s certain he’s made the right choice. Her smile is private and brief when she flashes it at him, but the teal of her eyes takes on a stunning warmth that very nearly makes his heart give out on the spot.

“Excellent. Of course I won’t take up all of your time though. I know just how busy you usually are but I must admit I’m looking forward to it. Are you certain a day or two of exploring Sumeru’s countryside together won’t hurt your productivity too much?” 

“Certainly not.” He swallows hard. “I’m looking forward to having a break of my own. All the better if it’s with you.” 

Offering up a brief sound of agreement, Jeanne thoughtfully glances down into her cup with that same secretive smile still in place. It strikes him as oddly curious, like there was more at play behind her good mood than just the vacation or the drink, but as always she doesn’t allow him enough time to parse what it might mean. 

Unfolding her legs where they’d been neatly crossed one over the other, she sets her goblet back down on the table and rises to her feet. “Then it’s settled. Excuse me for just a moment. I’m afraid I need to visit the powder room.” 

“Please, take your time.” He murmurs, attentively watching as she steps out from the booth before disappearing further into the tavern. Kaveh feels vaguely like a clingy puppy at the vague sense of loss that comes with watching her go but he quickly snaps himself out of it. 

This was his chance, wasn’t it? 

Surreptitiously, he glances at the glass she’s left behind. It would be all too easy to slip a few drops into her drink and no one would be none the wiser when their table was sequestered in the far back corner, away from where any prying eyes would be able to see it. Except he still hadn’t quite made up his mind yet. Was this a step too far? Would he be breaking some unspoken trust between them if he went through with this? 

The clock was ticking. He’d have to make his decision fast. 

“Dammit,” Cursing under his breath, Kaveh fumbles to get his hand inside his pocket. The glass vial feels warm from his own body heat as he wraps his long fingers around its slight circumference but he hardly even notices it in his flustered state. If he really went through with this … if he actually slipped her something without her knowledge … 

Oh, Jeanne was going to string him up like a solstice turkey if she ever found out. 

“I can’t do it.” He murmurs, hating the sinking feeling of defeat that makes his stomach feel like a solid lead weight yet he knew this was a line he just couldn’t bring himself to cross. No matter how badly he wanted to see her punch drunk and giggly (if such a Jeanne even existed) there was simply no way he’d ever be able to reconcile it with his conscience. In truth, he felt something like a slimy creep for even considering it in the first place. 

So he sits there for the next odd minutes, just sullenly regarding the little vial in his hand until she comes back and slides into the booth next to him again. His slumped shoulders must catch her attention, because she leans close to him to inspect what it is he’s looking at. 

“And what is this? Some sort of alchemical potion?” 

That manages to make him smile. “Hah. I said the same thing, you know. A friend gave this to me. He said a few drops in your drink would increase the efficacy and make it more potent.” 

Or something like that. Kaveh had been drinking a shade too fast since they got here to properly remember what exactly Rahid had told him. Not that that had been much to begin with, in retrospect. 

“Hmm. Interesting.” 

He’s not sure why he does it. Perhaps it’s the wine making his head feel fuzzy and muddled, or perhaps it’s nothing more than a last ditch effort on his part to win her over, but he holds it out to her in offering. “Wanna give it a try? I’m not sure how much effect it’ll actually have on you but …” 

She noises a brief sound of consideration, making up her mind surprisingly quick, and giving an elegant shrug. “I don’t see why not. I can’t even remember the last time I felt truly drunk.” 

“I’ve noticed that.” Numbly passing it over to her, Kaveh watches in disbelief as she uncorks the petite stopper and lifts it up to her nose for a sniff. He can hardly believe the situation would turn out this way after all the indecisive grief he’d endured leading up to this moment. 

Not only had he saved himself from dealing with the long lasting guilt of doing something so nefarious behind her back but she was also willing to drink it on her own accord? It truly seemed too good to be true. 

But, to his continued surprise, she does indeed reach out to position the vial over her waiting cup. A deliberate turn of her wrist sends a few pink droplets falling into the wine, dying it a faintly rust color in the center where it slowly starts to bleed out towards the edges. Jeanne appears to hesitate though, and at first he assumes she’s rethinking this decision – which he couldn’t exactly fault her for if that were the case. But then she tips the glass bottle again, spilling another healthy dose into her goblet, and his brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline.

“Uh, don’t you think that might be too much?”

“We’ll find out, won't we?” She shoots back, and he doesn’t realize she’s teasing him rather than issuing a challenge until she sends him a confidential smile. “It’s just as you said, Kaveh. There’s no way to know how much effect this will even have on me so I don’t see what harm it could do. You’ll have to forgive me though if I start acting like a fool. Can I trust you to watch over me if that happens?”

Kaveh starts to open his mouth, wanting to reassure her that everything is fine, of course he would, and to not give it another thought. But before he can even get a single word out she abruptly leans forward to snatch up her glass. In one smooth motion she brings it up to her mouth, tips it bottoms up, and drains what must be a good half of its contents all at once. 

Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, the blond lurches forward to grab at her elbow. “Woah, woah, hey! Slow down, there’s no rush is there? Don’t — you can’t drink it that fast!” 

She lowers the goblet enough to say, “And why not?” before decisively lifting it again. 

“Because -“ He fumbles for something to say, anything other than the humiliating truth, even as he grips her tight in an attempt to stay her hand. It’s no use though. She’s much too strong, stronger than him by a very noticeable margin, and there’s nothing he can do to stop her from taking another healthy swig. 

Such a realization probably would have hurt another man’s ego, left him feeling emasculated and lesser than. But Kaveh, on the contrary and much to his growing horror, only feels a dizzying rush of sharp edged excitement swell in his gut when her bicep powerfully flexes under his fingers. It’s like she doesn’t even notice he’s holding onto her at all and it is with a great deal of buzzing trepidation that he realizes just how easily she could have overpowered and pinned him down. It wouldn’t have even been much of an accomplishment. Despite the biological advances he naturally possessed as a man, he never could have gone toe to toe with her and hoped to come out on top. 

He quickly yanks his hands away as if she’d scalded him, his breath coming out in a quick rush now. His cheeks feel like they’re positively blazing while he watches in dismay as she finishes off the rest of the wine before reaching for the decanter. This wasn’t so strange for her, in truth. Jeanne seemed to enjoy dropping some of the stuffy aristocratic manners she’d been raised on when she was with him and she could hold her alcohol perfectly well under normal circumstances. But he had no idea what effect that strange liquid was going to have on her, especially not when she’d consumed so much of it all at once. 

And that was to say absolutely nothing of the unmistakable tendrils of arousal curling hot in his lower belly now. 

Practically shaking, Kaveh self consciously huddles into the corner of the booth and tries to get his bearings straight again. He’d known Jeanne was physically fit and strong, of course. It was a big part of the attraction, after all. But he hadn’t fully comprehended the actual differences in their strength, not like this. He’d never had it quite so poignantly displayed right in front of his very eyes before. 

And something told him he’d just made a grievous mistake when he decided to open up Pandora’s Box with that mysterious concoction. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thirty minutes later and Kaveh knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has indeed made a monumental mistake. 

Jeanne, to her credit, doesn’t appear to be drunk or even particularly tipsy for that matter — not the way he and many others get, at any rate. She was still a steady, unflappable presence sitting next to him in the booth, neither faltering in an intoxicated daze nor slurring her speech like most did when they were inebriated. By all accounts she seemed to be almost entirely sober. 

Except the way she looks over at him is so hungry and pointed that he feels vaguely like a cornered prey animal staring down a half starved beast. The change had come on gradually at first and then more quickly when whatever he’d slipped her really started to kick in. Now she looked like she was seconds away from pouncing on him right then and there, and he wasn’t so sure he would have had the strength of will to tell her no. 

If this was Rahid’s idea of ‘warming up’ with his wife Kaveh was going to have to have another long talk with him. 

In the here and now, he fumbles for something to say. Anything at all to diffuse the situation and give him a chance to figure out how to fix this newest screw up in his long list of a track record. It seemed that no matter what he did, he really just kept digging his grave deeper and deeper. 

“Are you alright, Jeanne? Y - you look thirsty. Why don’t I grab you some water?” 

He quickly stands, but Jeanne is just as quick to grab his wrist and tug him back down. Her fingers are reminiscent of iron manacles, and he rather helplessly collapses into the seat again. Surreptitiously glancing into her darkened expression, he decides that this would have been a rather terrifying experience had he not been so embarrassingly aroused by it. There was clearly something very wrong with him. 

“No water.” She murmurs, her voice noticeably huskier than usual. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it was the sultry, intimate tone she would use with a lover in their most private of moments, and that doesn’t do much to help him fight down the erection trying to spring up in his pants. He needed to think fast. 

“Alright. Can I … can I get you something else, then? Maybe something to eat? That might — it might absorb some of the … wine in your system.” 

Jeanne gives her head a slow shake, burgundy forelocks swaying gently with the motion. “No. I’m not hungry for food, but thank you.” 

Oh. 

Unsure what else to do, Kaveh lets out a threadbare little laugh. “Ah, I - I see. Then are you in the mood for something else? I can get you whatever you want. On me, of course.” 

It’s not like he had the extra money for that but it doesn’t really seem to matter. She only drops her gaze as if in thought, deeply considering something that only she was privy to in that moment. 

Those cool, sea-green eyes snap back up almost immediately though. 

With a single minded decisiveness that makes his heart lodge itself in his throat again, she nudges closer to him in the booth. Stammering, he quickly brings his open hands up to indicate surrender but she just reaches right past them to grab his chin without so much as pausing. Completely ignoring the surprised squawk he lets out, Jeanne rather demandingly angles his face up at her as she leans in, pressing her body right up against his side until he's practically pinned back into the seat. 

She looks like she’s about to devour him whole, her entire frame practically vibrating with the urge to act on whatever is going through her head, but she manages to stop at the last possible moment. Visibly holding herself in check she takes a deep, faltering breath and lets it out on a slow exhale, trying to regain her composure.  

“I’m not sure what's happening but … I think we need to leave.”

“A - are you alright?” 

“I don’t know. I just suddenly feel so damn hot.” She slowly shakes her head, clearly unable to make any sense of it. It is with a great deal of effort that she forces her fingers to unlatch from his chin and she stiffly returns to her side of the booth, panting softly under her breath. 

Kaveh can’t help the worried guilt that rushes over him as he takes in her new demeanor, the hunched set of her shoulders and the fine sheen of sweat starting to form across her face. If he didn’t know any better he’d think she was suddenly coming down with a cold. This was not at all what he’d expected to happen based on Rahid’s vague description but, well. She had consumed more than just a few drops worth. He just hoped it wasn’t making her sick. 

“It’s okay, Jeanne. Let me pay the tab and then we’ll get out of here,” He tells her, consolingly reaching over to place his hand across her back. “Your place is closer than mine so lets - -”

“No. I’ll pay.”

“But I already said it was my treat - -”

In lieu of a proper response, she merely reaches up lightning quick to snag his wrist and Kaveh can’t quite help the startled yelp he lets out in response. Unperturbed by his reaction, she stands up in a rush and half drags him after her. Another blinding, white hot surge shoots through his body at the demanding way she steers him out of the booth, stopping just long enough to snag her luggage up off the ground before making a beeline up to the front counter. He’s helpless to do anything but follow along right in tow when she’s got an ironclad hold on him like this, and Lambad sends them an odd look from behind the long bar at their approach. 

“Leaving so soon? It’s not even been two hours yet.”

“O - oh, you know,” Kaveh nervously laughs, scrambling for an excuse that wouldn’t sound as incriminating as the current scene looked, but Jeanne is quick to cut across him. 

“We might come back tomorrow. I’m not feeling very well, unfortunately.” That much is clear in the way she shivers just ever so slightly as she sets her suitcase back down so she can dig into her pocket. The fact she refused to let him go, as if she was worried about him making a break for it, is not lost on him but there wasn’t much he could do about it at this point. 

A handful of mora is slapped down on the counter with enough force to make Kaveh wince and then she’s physically dragging him towards the exit. By the time they make it outside and step into the dense heat, Jeanne is full on panting like she couldn’t quite catch her breath, and the two of them stumble to a halt just on the edge of the road. Realizing she was hardly in any condition to navigate the city streets on her own, the blond cautiously steps closer to put his uncaptured hand on her shoulder, hoping to steady her a little bit. 

“Here, let me lead the way. Do you feel like you’re going to be sick? Maybe I should take you to a hospital …”

“No. That's not necessary.” She groans very softly, keeping her head hung forward so that her hair keeps her face mostly hidden from him. “Just want to go home. I think – I think I need to lie down for a while.” 

He was decidedly in agreement with that, so he gently coaxes her into motion until she at last gives in and shuffles after him on heavy feet. Luckily the house she rented year-round for her stays in Sumeru while on business was conveniently closer to the tavern than his old home would have been, so that saved him from having to break that particular news to her just yet. It was one of the very few breaks he seemed to be getting today. 

More importantly though he isn’t quite sure what to do with her in this state. She’d said she didn’t need a hospital but was she sure about that? Did she have the presence of mind to make those kinds of calls right now? In many ways this was the exact opposite of what he’d been hoping for. Instead of a clingy, affectionate Jeanne he’d gotten one who looked like she was either going to collapse or start retching everywhere. For all he was aware, she might even end up doing both and he had no clue how to handle any of it. 

But for once the gods seemed to be on his side because they eventually make it to her single sized home without incident and only a few curious stares from people wondering what was going on with the Fontainian woman. There was no telling what kind of rumors about them might be circulating around the city come morning but that was the least of his concerns. With her help, he manages to get the door unlocked and the two of them stumble inside. 

Immediately dropping her luggage, Jeanne moves to lean heavily against the wall while he gets the door closed. Even with her hair hanging forward he can still make out the furious flush that stains her cheeks and he cautiously approaches her, idly noting that when she was slumped like this they were at almost perfect eye level with one another. 

“Are you positive you don’t want me to fetch a doctor for you, Jeanne? I’m worried about you.” 

“Don’t be,” She insists, lifting a sluggish hand to vaguely wave off his concern. “I’ll be fine. I must have just drank too fast. I wasn’t expecting that brew to hit me so hard.” 

Deciding that was a major understatement, Kaveh reaches up to tug her coat off her shoulders. That probably wasn’t helping her current condition much, and it strikes him as oddly domestic. Like he was a housewife welcoming her hardworking husband home from a long day. 

His belly painfully clenches at the thought and, struggling to fight down the erection that tries to spring to life in his pants, he tosses her jacket on the nearby coat rack and then stiffly takes her by the shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed before you collapse on me.”

Much to his relief, she complies without a fuss and pushes off from the wall. Leaning into him for support, Jeanne allows Kaveh to guide her further into the house and down the hall. He’d only seen her bedroom once or twice before in passing, when he’d helped her with her luggage on previous trips, but this time there’s enough static tension hanging in the air that he can’t quite stamp down the mounting excitement in his lower body. It’s a shameful thing to realize his self control was this bad but he makes a valiant effort to keep it at bay while he gets her directed over to the waiting bed. 

“Here we are. Once you’re settled in I’ll go get you some water to drink.”

She doesn’t immediately sink onto the waiting mattress though. Even at his encouraging nudge, she just stands there breathing heavily, and he anxiously bends his head close to try and get a better look at her. 

“What’s wrong? Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” 

“No.” 

“Then why don’t you - -“ 

It happens much too fast for him to comprehend any of it. 

One moment he’s standing on his feet, helping Jeanne support her weight, and the next she’s flipped him forward to hit the bed, sprawled out on his back. Kaveh barely has enough time to draw a sharp gasp as he bounces once before she’s on top of him, pinning him down against the sheets. Staring up at her, he’s so surprised in the aftermath of that sudden rush that he doesn’t even have the wherewithal to do anything else but gape at her. 

What in the seven hells was happening now? 

“Kaveh,” 

He gives a slight jolt. “O - oh. Yes – yes, Jeanne?” 

“I’m going to kiss you.” She announces with so little fanfare that he very nearly does a double take. 

“W - wha —“

“Kaveh,” She cuts across him, the strict command in her tone making the blond obediently snap his mouth shut. Apparently satisfied with that, she goes on. “I’ve thought about doing this for a while now. Quite a while, in fact. I’m not sure what was in that vial but I want you far too much right now to deny it any longer. I won’t force myself on you though, so speak up if you don’t want it. This is your chance to reject my advances. If you don’t take it I’m going to kiss you.” 

His eyes grow so impossibly wide it looks like they just might fall right out of his head and go rolling off across the floor, and with it comes a sudden realization. What Rahid had said about that pink concoction. He’d never come right out with it but he also hadn’t stated that it would make her drunk either. That had been his own jump to conclusions on the matter. What he’d told Kaveh was that it would warm her up and that he used it with his wife in their old age. He’d said it would give him plenty of time to prove to Jeanne that he was serious about wanting to pursue her. It wasn’t an elixir for drunkards, it was an intimacy potion! 

Kaveh’s brain stumbles over that thought, hardly even daring to believe it, but the proof was looming over him with a hungry, voracious look of wanting darkening her face. That explained everything. Why she was so short of breath and her skin flushed with perspiration. He’d thought she was feeling ill after ingesting all that wine on top of the mystery fluid but clearly that was not the case. She was so worked up because she was indescribably aroused. 

And he was the sole focus of all her attention? 

The poor architect very nearly faints dead away on the spot. 

Desperately groping for some semblance of a hold on his composure though, he starts to open his mouth. He’d wanted to tell her he would rather talk this out instead of making any rash decisions when she was so obviously under the influence and her judgment was clouded, but his silence must have stretched on for much too long at that point. Because Jeanne abruptly swoops in and he just manages to suck in a surprised gasp before her lips crash into his. He violently jerks as if she’d electrocuted him but, in truth, she doesn’t even seem to notice it. She’s much too busy trying to devour him, claiming his mouth and dominating the kiss before he even has a chance to try and take the upper hand for himself. Like her role of total power and control in their dynamic was already a foregone conclusion. 

Hell, maybe it was. 

In a truly dizzying rush, white hot static surges through his system with all the subtlety of a powerful explosive going off and Kaveh instantly gives over to the intense, bone rattling yearning he harbors for her. Tipping his head, he hungrily kisses her back, softly groaning into her mouth. His lips tremble under the demanding push and pull of hers even as he instinctively brings his arms up to wrap them around her shoulders, clinging to her while his long fingers dig into the soft fabric of her blouse. Noising a brief sound of approval, rewarding him for his eager response, she gives his bottom lip a taunting bite before lowering herself to languorously stretch out on top of him.

There really isn’t much difference in their builds, he suddenly realizes with her body pressed up tight against his like that. They were almost the same height and her shoulders not much wider despite the obvious strength residing in them. In truth, they probably would’ve been just about evenly matched if only Kaveh had taken Al-Haitham’s advice and he’d spent a bit more time exercising his muscles instead of hunching over his drawing table late into the night on various projects. Not that it really mattered now, at this crucial juncture. It was clear he’d be no match for her in his current state even if he’d wanted to fight and wrestle with her for dominance. 

He doesn’t, though. He really, really doesn’t want to pretend to be something or someone he’s not, especially when Jeanne herself never made any qualms about who she was either. This was in many ways exactly what he’d been dreaming of. To have her on top of him, pinning him down and taking whatever she wanted from him, so he happily surrenders, all but melting against her and letting her set the pace however she saw fit. 

And she doesn’t hesitate to do so, either by virtue of her proud, natural inclination for being in control or perhaps it was just in response to his submissive body language. Where once they’d barely touched each other beyond an occasional friendly brush of their hands, Jeanne now shamelessly presses herself flush against him like her claim on the blond man was already a bygone matter of fact. It was as if every single one of his shameful fantasies was coming to life in real time and he almost chokes on the boiling rush of emotion that swells in his chest. 

A pathetically small whimper escapes him and in response the hand that had come up to possessively wrap around his throat relaxes before falling away altogether, sliding up to cup his cheek instead. Her fingers are feminine and dainty yet rough with worn callouses. The grip she usually used for holding her sword is especially powerful, and it has him shuddering against her as blunt nails dig in just enough for him to feel the pinprick, drawing another muffled gasp out of him. But she quickly releases his face in favor of reaching further back to sink her fingers into his hair. Closing her fist at the back of his head, Jeanne gives it an experimental yet no less insistent tug that has his lips warbling open with an accompanying mewl. 

To his groaning surprise, she doesn’t hesitate to take this chance and she plunges her tongue into Kaveh’s mouth to suggestively caress over his in a long, wet swipe and savor the taste of him on her palette. The buzzing daze that encompasses him only grows stronger still and he feels downright delirious even as he dips his head back against the sheets to better accept her conquest of him. 

She's quick to pull away though, leaving him sprawled out and panting underneath her. Issuing a faint groan of disappointment at the loss, he cracks his eyes open to peer up into her face. 

He’s only slightly surprised to find Jeanne’s breath is coming even quicker than before, her cheeks flushed hot in what he now recognized as eager excitement, but somehow she still didn’t look half as worked up as he felt. It probably would have made him laugh, if only he’d had the extra oxygen to do so. Even when that blasted potion was wreaking havoc on her self control she still managed to keep some hold on her composure. It was in many ways astounding. 

“You … you didn’t have to stop.” 

A quietly strained laugh rises in her throat, soft and husky, to accompany the slow lift at the corner of her mouth. 

“Oh, is that so? What an unexpected surprise this is turning out to be.” She murmurs, uncharacteristically doting in the way she speaks to him now. Looking confident and svelte in her eager glow, she pushes up to get a better look at him. “I must admit, there was a very real part of me that hoped things would turn out this way eventually. I didn’t want to approach you with unwarranted expectations though. We’ve already danced around each other for far too long for me to start making assumptions now, wouldn’t you agree? But I suppose I had nothing to be worried about this entire time. You’re a good boy, aren’t you Kaveh?” 

His throat cinches shut, making him cough around the startled sound that materializes from his mouth unbidden. She doesn’t seem to pay it much mind though, shifting her weight more to the side so she can glance down the length of his body with a pointed look. Obediently, and not knowing what else to do, Kaveh hesitantly tears his eyes from her face and follows suit. 

The straining tent in the front of his pants comes as more of a shock to him than it does her. She’d probably felt it as soon as she’d flattened herself to the front of him but that doesn’t stop Kaveh from sucking in a sharp, deeply embarrassed gasp. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire as he shyly draws his knees together in an attempt to conceal his arousal from her but it’s no use. He’s much too hard, and the tent remains. The sharp sting of humiliation almost brings tears to his eyes, and he whimpers softly in his distress. Not only was this unbelievably shameful but he also feared the possibility that she might dismiss him from her presence because of it. This wasn’t exactly the kind of overly enthusiastic reaction most women would want out of their potential partners, was it? 

But Jeanne, evidently, is not most women. She practically purrs, in fact, when she brings her hand down to gently trace the center line of his chest, down over his nervously flexing stomach and even further than that to finally reach the jutted bulge between his legs. Possessively, she curls her fingers around it and palms him with a subdued, taunting squeeze. He almost sobs right then and there, whining softly at the first glorious touch of her hand on him. 

He’d been anticipating this for so long, dreaming and fantasizing about what this exact moment might look like, and he was ashamed to realize how dangerously close he already was to busting in his pants. This was the effect Jeanne had on him. This is what she turned him into. 

“My, you’re certainly excited aren’t you? And to think, I hesitated so much for fear that you might not reciprocate my interest …”

“P - please,” 

“Hush, Kaveh. Now that I’ve finally got you in my bed I won’t be letting you go anytime soon. You’re going to be good and do exactly as I say, aren’t you?” 

He quickly nods, swallowing so hard it almost makes him gag. “Yes. Yes, ma’am. I will. Anything.” 

Jeanne draws a slow, carefully controlled breath in response even as a distant shudder of anticipation wracks through her. “Ooh, look at you. Already so eager to please me. Is it possible you’ve also thought about this before?”

At his needy little whimper she offers another soft, velvety laugh that rushes straight to his cock, making it twitch in her hold. He’s so hard it almost hurts but he can’t quite bring himself to complain about that right now. Not when she was holding him like that and he could still taste the glorious flavor of her mouth on his tongue. So out of his mind with sharp tinged arousal, all he can do is offer up a faltering moan to accompany the dazed nod of his head. 

“I see. Then we are both fools, aren’t we? But are you certain you want to do this, Kaveh? I’m not the type of passive woman who will just indulge you long enough to get you off. If I’m to have you then I’ll have all of you.”  

He quietly seethes at the suggestion of what she was saying. It made it sound like he was some kind of honorable maiden about to be bedded by a chivalrous knight of the court, and the way his cock jumps in her hand makes it quite clear just how much he liked that idea. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and yet so deeply attractive that he wasn’t so sure he would’ve been able to reject anything at all she asked of him from here on out. She could have told him to go jump off the highest point of the Akademiya’s tallest spire and he wouldn’t have given it another thought. 

“I … gods, I think I’d be mad if you didn’t at this point. Please, Jeanne. I’m yours, however you want me.” 

Humming a brief sound of approval, she gives his straining erection one last, lingering squeeze before dragging her hand up to fiddle with the brooch that holds his mantle in place over his shoulders. While she works on that, she leans close again and brushes a teasing, featherlight kiss over his lips. Struggling to keep his breath evened out, Kaveh needily kisses her back but no amount of desperation on his part manages to prepare him for when she abruptly sits upright and throws one leg over his middle without any further buildup to that pivotal moment. 

Settling on top of him, she shoots him a sly little smile even as she reaches down to take his slack wrists in her hands. Folding them up above his head, she pins them down to the bed with her weight before hunching close again so she can claim his mouth the way he’d been hoping she would. Jeanne’s hunger is obvious in the way she kisses him as if she were trying to consume his very life force, and in the way she not so subtly grinds her pelvis against him. Even through the many layers of clothes still separating them he can feel the intense heat radiating out from between her legs, and he issues a soft whine when his balls draw up in warning. 

This wasn’t good. If he shot off in his pants before she even properly touched him skin to skin, he was never going to forgive himself. She may not have been very put off by his other shortcomings but he had a feeling this was one she wouldn’t be quite as willing to overlook. 

So with a great deal of effort he tears his mouth from hers, sucking in a ragged breath. “Nghn, J - Jeanne … I might - -“

She unexpectedly shoves her face into the line of his neck, nipping at his pulse, and he physically shakes straight down to his toes. This was exactly what he’d thought about doing to her back at the tavern and the irony of that isn’t lost on him. Having the roles reversed so completely, being on the receiving end of such amorous attention … 

“Ooh, I think — I might need a moment, please.” 

“Aww, what’s the matter, Kaveh? Do you already feel like you’re going to cum for me?” She purrs against his skin, laughing softly when he trembles so violently in response the bed distantly rattles. “Don’t worry. I know exactly how to get you ready for another round if I need to, so there’s nothing to fret about. You’re in good hands, I promise.” 

“W - what does that mean?” He squeaks, unable to keep the nervous trepidation out of his voice. 

Ignoring the question, Jeanne sits up on his stomach and lifts her hands to make quick work of her red tie, her finely made courtiers jacket and then her blouse which she practically rips off in her rush to get undressed. Kaveh, feeling unexpectedly scandalized by the unprecedented strips of creamy flesh being revealed to him, almost brings his hands up to shyly cover his face. He can’t quite rip his eyes away though and he outright stares at the full cups of her satiny brassiere in something not unlike disbelief. He’d never been so blessed with a more tantalizing, beautiful sight in all his life. 

“Now it’s your turn.” She murmurs, hungrily licking her lips as she sets her sights on the sash at the front of his waist. Giving it a good tug is all it takes to have it loosened and then she’s flipping the bottom of his flouncy shirt out of the way so she can get at his pants. 

Kaveh starts to protest, wanting to ask her to at least slow down, but a quick look at Jeanne’s expression makes him think better of it. She was going to chew him up and spit him out one way or another, there probably wasn’t any point in stalling the inevitable. 

Clenching his hands into tight fists, he simply watches as she gets his slacks unfastened and then roughly yanks them down. A soft whimper rises in his throat but she pays it little mind, much too focused on getting them yanked off right along with his shoes. She doesn’t hesitate to come back for his underwear and his cock is soon springing up to arc through the air with a rigid bounce, making him hiss at the sensation as much as at being suddenly exposed. Feeling rather self conscious of his sudden nudity, he snaps his attention up to fretfully gauge her reaction. 

The pleased smile that slowly pulls at her mouth catches him off guard, and he nervously fidgets under the watchful spotlight of her attention. 

“Well, Kaveh, I must say you’ve got a rather pretty cock, don’t you? I expected as much given how lovely you are in the face, but …” 

Eagerly, Jeanne reaches out to wrap her fingers around him and he jolts at the abrupt contact, teeth clenching in an attempt to stave off his impending release. She hadn’t seemed worried about it but he really had no idea what she’d meant by knowing how to get him ready for another round. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out. 

“Mm, and you’re sensitive too. How delightful. I wonder what would happen if I just …” 

With a tauntingly slow motion of her hand, she tugs up on his cock and drags her hand from about mid shaft up to the head. Kaveh gives a full bodied, lurching jerk in response, letting out a gutted moan when her fist makes the foreskin bunch over his tender glans. He clenches his toes so hard it actually hurts, desperately trying to will his orgasm away, but if she felt any sympathy for him she certainly doesn’t show it. She simply pulls her fist down, retracing the path she’d already taken once, and he outright chokes when it draws the skin back from the glans entirely with a sticky wet click. 

“Oh my,” She breathes out, sounding a little surprised and a lot excited. “That’s quite a lot of precum, isn’t it? You must have really wanted this bad.” 

“I - I’m sorry,” He whimpers, his flat stomach dramatically flexing under the tension. “I can’t — I don’t think I can hold it …” 

“Is that so? And if I tell you I’ll give you a reward?” He shoots her a harried look of confusion and Jeanne smiles rather magnanimously in return. “If you can avoid cumming for the next five minutes, I’ll treat you to something really nice. How does that sound, hm?”

Archons above, she was trying to kill him! 

At his helplessly weak nod, she offers a quiet sound of approval and an encouraging squeeze to his shaft. His hips fruitlessly buck under the sensation but he quickly stills them again when she starts to drag her hand back up at a painfully sedate pace, caressing him in torturous slow motion. Full on wheezing, Kaveh screws his eyes shut and forces himself to stay still even when his muscles start to vibrate with the intense urge to give in. To follow after her grip and thrust into her fingers, to let loose and spasm for all he was worth. Even putting aside the reward she’d mentioned, he just didn’t want to disappoint her. 

So he simply lies there and takes it while she jerks him off at such a staggered, halting pace he really feels like he just might go mad. It was hard just to breathe around it let alone think, and as a result the only thing he can do is focus his cotton stuffed head on not cumming. He repeats it again and again, like a lifesaving mantra, but he’s so close that it feels like a lost cause. His balls are heavy and they ache fiercely where they’re drawn up tight against his scrotum, so close to shooting off but forced to hold back. This was hell. Glorious, mind numbing hell and it existed squarely within the confines of this bed. 

“Such a good boy you are,” She coos another moment later, making him heave and desperately arch up off the bed at the inviting sound of her voice. His narrow, shaking hips are the only part of him that stays rooted to the mattress while the rest of him desperately twists with back bending need, grunting at the effort of trying to stave off his release. “You’re doing so well for me. I can tell how close you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could just let go and - -“ 

Cutting her off with a strangled, partially horrified moan, Kaveh can’t stop himself from thrusting up into her grip any longer and he does so with such force it makes something in his lower spine pop. That’s all it takes, just that one hurried rush of movement, and his cock pitifully erupts in a sudden stream of milky white discharge. He cums with a hardly dignified sound, gutted and elated in equal measure. Spurt after spurt, it just keeps coming to paint her knuckles white and stain the bottom of his loose fitted shirt, until finally it runs dry with one last aching twitch that leaves him desperately wheezing. 

“Oh, god!” Bonelessly, Kaveh collapses back into the bed, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. It takes him a prolonged moment to get his bearings straight, or at least enough to comprehend that he was still alive and Jeanne was very much not a figment of his imagination, and he slowly lifts his head to glance down at her. 

Smiling slyly, she rather daintily releases his cock and holds her hand up to show off the incriminating evidence coating her hand. “I’m afraid you only lasted about two minutes and thirty seconds but …” 

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” He says in a rush, but she continues on as if he hadn’t even spoken. 

“I’ll admit that was still longer than I thought you’d manage to pull off. With the way you were acting, I’d half expected you to lose it in under a minute.”

Practically withering in shame, Kaveh shyly draws his knees together but Jeanne is quick to palm his legs apart again. A soft whimper escapes him at the sticky smear she leaves along his thigh, like a reminder of his failure. This was not quite how he’d envisioned this unfolding. 

“Don’t fret, now. I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Besides,”

Peeking up at the pointed tone in her voice, the blond warily follows her line of sight down to his groin and a soft mewl escapes him at the sight of his cock, still half hard and stirring with interest. He’d cum so hard he almost felt numb from the waist down now but there was no getting around what he was looking at. It wasn’t going to take much to have him at full strength again. That much was obvious. 

“I can go again,” He quickly stammers before she can jump into action and take care of it for him. “I’m sure I’ll last longer this time too. But you should — you should really let me take care of you first. I promise I’m good with my mouth.”

“I’m sure you are.” She agrees, smiling at him like she knew he was stalling for time and she thought it was cute. “But I don’t think that will be necessary. You’re going to take care of me another way, Kaveh.” 

Pulling back from him completely, Jeanne takes a moment to withdraw a handkerchief from the pocket of her trousers with her unsoiled hand and she uses it to wipe the cum off the other. Carelessly tossing it aside, she then sets her hands to work on her pants and he tenderly winces when his spent cock bobs with growing excitement at the implication of what was to come. She genuinely was trying to kill him, he decides. And she was doing a spectacular job of it so far. 

“Be a good boy and take off the rest of your clothes for me, hm?” 

It takes everything Kaveh has not to outright sob as he obediently sits up and starts tugging off his shirt. Soon the both of them are completely naked, save the sleek black bra Jeanne leaves on for the time being, and he self consciously brings his arms up to wrap them around his chest when she returns to him on the bed. He feels more than a little foolish for it, like some awkward maiden that wasn’t used to being seen in such a vulnerable state — and, really, that actually wasn’t far from the truth — but she doesn’t seem to be half as disappointed by that as he may have once feared she would be. 

If anything, Jeanne actually looks quite pleased with the blond in her bed, and she reaches out to gently take his shoulders once she’s kneeling next to him. “Lay down?” 

He complies, eager pinpricks erupting along his skin where her hands touch him. Of course he’d known he was pathetically, regrettably weak for her long before this, but looking up at her now he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she really was the one for him. Who else could even compare? No one was as strong as Jeanne, nor as pretty. No other woman came from a background of aristocratic opulence while behaving like she did. She was — everything, wasn’t she? 

“Good. Now, be good for me and let me have my fun, okay?” 

Swallowing his nerves down, Kaveh offers a single nod and Jeanne coos at him very softly in response, assuring him that he was making the right choice for once in his life. Bracing her hands against his narrow chest, she confidently throws her leg over his middle again but this time she keeps her pelvis angled up rather than immediately settling on top of him. He feels downright hysterical when she reaches for his cock and possessively wraps her fingers around it. Despite the fact he was still recovering from his first orgasm, it immediately flexes in her hold to stand at attention. Obedient and loyal, just like his heart was, apparently. 

He seethes softly under his breath at the ache in his overwrought loins but doesn’t try to fight it as she angles him towards her cunt and the glorious thatch of red hair there, a shade darker than that on her head. A vague sense of panic does make his chest expand with a sharp gasp though, and he fumbles his hands down to grab hold of her hips. So soft and womanly under his fingers, yet indescribably powerful when they flex with the motion of lowering herself onto him. 

Truthfully Kaveh hadn’t thought it was possible to get any more worked up then he already was, yet the first silky soft brush of her wet lips against his glans has him feeling dangerously close to passing out. Contrary to his earlier statement, he was not going to last any longer than he had the first time. 

“W - wait —“ 

“Are you nervous, Kaveh?” She laughs, the sound so inviting and teasing it very nearly has him going cross eyed with the intense surge of fresh arousal that sparks in him. “Don’t overthink it. Just lie back, relax and let me have my fun, hm? You want to please me, don’t you?” 

“Ahh … y - yes, ma’am. I do.” 

Breathing out a clipped, anticipatory sigh, Jeanne sedately drags him back and forth through the wet folds and creases of her cunt, ensuring that he was nice and sticky too. Not that he thought he needed it when she already felt like she was soaked so penetration was sure to be a nonissue, but it certainly felt good. Heavenly, actually. 

Fingers sinking into the soft give of her hips, he silently pleads with any god willing to listen for his stamina not to give out at the worst possible time. 

Another anticipatory moment later, she finally angles him back towards her entrance and starts to sink the rest of the way down. The blinding rush of heat that all at once envelops him damn near sends him careening over the edge right then and there, but he valiantly holds it back with a sobbing little hiss. Clutches at her like his life depended on it, and it very well might, while Jeanne gradually takes him deeper and deeper into her body one inch at a time. Just as he’d suspected, she was already perfectly lubricated and he gives a powerless curse under his breath, stealing a harried glance between them to watch her swallow him down to the base. Her thick curls are a poignant contrast to his coarser, ashen brown ones, but they look right at home mingling together like that. 

“Bless the seven - -!”

“Mmnn, you feel so good, Kaveh. You’re just where I want you to be.” Giving a taunting wriggle of her hips to make him sensitively wince, Jeanne reaches for one of his hands. Slides it around to the front of her abdomen and presses down on a certain spot along her lower stomach. “Right there. Can you feel it? That’s how deep you are.” 

The wordless noise he lets out is rife with distress, and he sucks in a horribly frazzled breath in an attempt to steady his nerves a little bit. She just laughs though, another soft, liltingly husky sound that makes him want to cry out. 

And he does, mewling a huffy noise into the statically charged air when she leans forward to square her balance in the center, on her toes and with her hands palming his chest. She starts to move then, keeping her motions short and experimental at first while she gets a better feel for him and how he hits her most pleasure inducing spots. It doesn’t take long for her to pick up the pace though and she begins to bounce in earnest, taking him in long, drawn out plunges now. 

Flicking her long braid over her shoulder mid bounce, Jeanne pins him with a salacious grin. “Yeah, right there. You’ve got it. Ahhn, you’re such a good boy for me. You’d better not, nghn, bust as quickly as the first time. Not before I get mine.” 

“J - Jeanne —“ 

He sounds incredibly whiny even to his own ears but he can’t help it. Not when he could feel his cock throbbing inside her, still tender from getting hard again much too soon after already cumming once, and she didn’t seem to care. She was clearly much more concerned with her own pleasure now, enthusiastically chasing that gratification on top of him, but that just seems to ratchet his own excitement up even further. The more she took from him the more he wanted to give, the higher his arousal seemed to climb. 

It is with no shortage of horror that Kaveh realizes he’s going to cum again, not because she was riding him so expertly, but because she was using him for her own pleasure and that was getting him off more than anything. Even in all his fantasies and wistful daydreams, he’d never imagined that having her treat his cock like her own personal toy would turn him on quite this much. 

“Oh! Shit! I - if you don’t slow down, Jeanne, I’m - -“ 

Her hips start to come down faster, harder in response, and the sharp slap of skin meeting skin rises louder in the air. He practically chokes on it, squirming underneath her as every muscle in his body rapidly tenses up in preparation to blow another load and simultaneously to try and stave it off. It wasn’t just overwhelming, it was downright mind numbing, and he pathetically whimpers even as his eyes start to roll back in his head. 

Too much. It was too much. 

“Please — please —“ He’s babbling, his mouth running on autopilot now, but still she doesn’t seem to care. 

His cock was hers to use however she saw fit and it was clear she wanted it thrusting deep into her guts right now. It feels like every ounce of blood in his body rushes down to his groin all at once, making it swell to uncomfortable proportions as his balls tightly draw up again. He tries to hold back, really, but it’s all too much for him to bear. The wet warmth of her body gripping him like a vice, the breathy sounds that slip from her mouth and the all encompassing smell of her cloying on the back of his tongue. He was powerless before it. 

And he cums again, just like that. His strangled, frantic moan is high pitched and bordering on frantic as he shoots off inside her but even then she just keeps going. Even when his cock finishes spraying her inner sleeve with white, creamy clumps, she just keeps riding him. The only response he gets that indicates she’s even aware of it happening is a low, huffy groan in the back of her throat but it doesn’t so much as make her pause. 

His hands practically cramp up from how hard he’s clutching at her, roughly sucking in a series of wet, faltering breaths. His body can’t take it when every conceivable inch of him was painfully throbbing in protest at the continuous stimulation. The sensation is sharp and stabbing, and he finally throws his head back against the sheets to helplessly wail up at the ceiling. 

“Oh, Kaveh,” She finally murmurs another moment later. “Are you crying?”

His eyes snap open so suddenly it takes them a heartbeat or two to catch up and make any sense of the visual input. Just in time to watch Jeanne lean over him, getting close to his face and alternating her previous bouncing motion to a slower, more savory grind that makes him wince in his oversensitized state. She doesn’t seem to pay it any mind though, her teal eyes taking in his face with obvious delight. 

“You poor thing,” Breathing out softly, she slides one hand up from his chest, over his neck and higher still to cup his cheek. “You really are tender, aren’t you? I wasn’t expecting to make you cry until at least the third round.” 

Kaveh’s taxed heart nearly gives out right then and there. “T - third round? You … you can’t be serious - -“

“I’m very serious, I’m afraid. I’m not sure what else you expected when you gave me an aphrodisiac though. Don’t tell me you’ve bitten off more than you can chew?” 

“Aph - wait, you knew?” 

“Well, I didn’t at the time but I’ve certainly figured it out by now. In all honesty, I picked up very early on that you were acting rather strange today but I hadn’t expected you to go to such lengths just to get me into bed. All you’d had to do was ask, you know.” 

He just gapes up at her, big, wet glistening tears beading along his lash line to make them clump together. What she was saying wasn’t just inconceivable, it didn’t make any sense! If she’d suspected something amiss, if she’d had any doubts about his intentions then …

His eyes suddenly go big and round. “You — that’s what you meant earlier … about unwarranted expectations?”

She smiles at him, a vaguely mischievous, sly little smile, and exhales a savory sigh. “Yeah, but I’d say that’s a moot point now, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve already made you cry so …” Closing the distance, Jeanne’s tongue flicks out to lap up a salty tear from his cheek and he startles like she’d shocked him. That only makes her laugh though, and she pulls back to sit upright again so she can reach behind her to unclasp the hooks on her bra. “Let’s continue, shall we? I’ve got something special in mind for that overly eager cock of yours.” 

Satiny cups fall away, revealing her bare breasts to him at long last, and Kaveh sucks in such a harsh, flustered gasp it almost sounds like he’s choking. Pleased with his reaction, she tosses the garment aside and then much to his slack jawed surprise, she moves to dismount from him. His spent cock slips free humiliatingly fast and wetly flops down to rest across his lower belly, completely soft now. 

Self consciously, Kaveh reaches down to gingerly cover himself from her scrutiny but she merely turns to climb down off the bed as if it were none of her concern. Maybe it wasn’t, and he practically withers at the thought. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me.” She says, not bothering to look back at him while she tugs open a drawer on the nightstand. 

“Please, Jeanne, I don’t think I can handle another round so soon.” He groans, even as he slowly pushes himself up to sit. It wasn’t just his cock that felt sore and achy, his entire body hurt at this point. “If you just give me, I don’t know, an hour, I’m sure we’ll have much better results.” 

“You really expect me to wait that long?” 

“W - well, no, but - -“

“Hands and knees, Kaveh. Now.” 

Whimpering softly, he does as he’s been told and turns over to assume the position. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, she had in store for him but there were certainly a few sinking suspicions running through his mind, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for any of them. Mentally or physically, it seemed he really had bitten off more than he could conceivably chew. 

She soon returns to him, evidently having found what she was looking for and crawling up onto the bed to kneel just behind him. He can’t quite bring himself to look back at her, a little too embarrassed by everything that has already happened here today as much as the unseemly pose he was currently in to face her head on. He was also more than a bit nervous too, and he decidedly did not want her to see that reflecting back at her in his expression. Sure, Kaveh may have been fruitlessly grasping at straws here, but he was dead set on preserving whatever minuscule amount of his pride he still had left. 

Which was decidedly not much at all. 

“Relax for me. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“I know that …” 

But did he really, though? He trusted her, yes, but there was a very real part of him that didn’t know what to expect in the coming moments and that made him understandably a bit jittery. 

That fact is very poignantly highlighted when she touches him, placing her hand along his lower back, and he jolts so hard he nearly comes right up off the bed. Chuckling softly at the reaction, Jeanne rubs comforting, coaxing circles into his skin as if she were encouraging an overly skittish pup to settle down. 

“So jumpy. Have I actually done anything to make you this nervous yet?” 

He grumbles a low, noncommittal sound, not entirely sure he trusted himself to speak when he was as naked as the day he was born and spread out on her bed on full display. His reticence quickly proves to be a moot point though, because when she drags her hand down to the cleft where his ass starts, he outright yelps in surprise. 

“Wait - -“ 

“Unfortunately I don’t have the time or the patience for that right now. You said you were going to be a good boy for me, didn’t you?” 

“ I — I did, but …” 

“Then do as I say and relax. I promise you aren’t going to hate this half as much as you think you will.” 

Groaning softly, Kaveh hangs his head in a clear sign of defeat and Jeanne takes that chance to readjust her position behind him, settling directly between his knees now. Both of her hands come up to cup his cheeks, giving them each a savory, appreciative squeeze, and he mewls very quietly when she spreads them apart. His face positively blazes with the knowledge that she was looking at his most private areas uninterrupted and he restlessly fidgets as a result. 

He feels her lean close then and he braces himself — for what, he isn’t sure, but it’s certainly not the wet swipe of her tongue across the tight pucker of his asshole. The sensation is unmistakable and jarring, and he instinctively tries to shy away from it with a frazzled yelp. 

“Jeanne!” He shrills, further embarrassing himself with the high pitch of his voice. 

“Goodness, you really are like an innocent virgin, aren’t you?” 

He doesn’t exactly have a comeback for that, not when he was certainly acting like one, so he just settles on a vague sound of disagreement. 

Chuckling, she leans into him again and, now that he actually knows what’s coming, he clenches his teeth to stay any of the humiliating sounds that rise in his chest at the next swipe of her tongue. It’s a bit less shocking this time but no less confusing when he can’t make any sense of why she would be doing this. Surely she wasn’t … she didn’t plan to - -

“Don’t tense up so much,” She murmurs against him, warm breath fanning over his skin and tickling the sticky wrinkle of his hole. He feels a slight twitch in his groin in response to the featherlight sensation but it’s not near enough to have him springing back up to full attention again. 

So he simply takes it with as much grace as he possibly can, passively letting her lap at him without protest until he can eventually feel the tight rim start to puff up under her ministrations. The muscle was slackening and giving way, allowing her more freedom to poke and prod at the center to tease the suggestion of penetration. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that or any of this, but he doesn’t protest even when she seals her mouth around him and gently starts to suckle. Now he felt overwhelmed in a completely different way than before, and he wheezes quietly under his breath. This was unfamiliar territory for him, completely uncharted, but it is his implicit trust in Jeanne that keeps him from bolting like a frightened rabbit. 

And just like the easily frightened hare, he all but quails when she finally pulls back some moments later to fiddle with something behind him. He didn’t want to look, couldn’t bring himself to look, but he quickly figures out what she’s up to when her fingers come up to touch him and they’re unnaturally sticky with grease, genuine surprise making his heart stutter a beat. 

Dear god, she was really going to do this! 

“Ah, J - Jeanne, are you sure that’s - -“ 

She carefully pushes, dipping one digit just inside the tight ring of muscle without stopping long enough to hear him out, and he instantly blurts out a wordless sound of startled shock. Unable to stop himself anymore, he snaps his head around to peer over his shoulder at her but she just offers up a vaguely conspiratorial smile. 

“You’re tensing up again.” 

“Well, can you really blame me!” 

“No, not really. But trust me, you’ll find you’re much more keen here in just a moment.” 

He doesn’t believe that. He doesn’t believe that at all, not when his hole was weakly pulsing around the intrusion in a way that made him feel panicky and trapped, and that was to say absolutely nothing of the sharply felt pangs of embarrassment he could feel creeping up his neck. 

But then she pushes in a little deeper, slipping in down to the second joint, and his entire body seizes in response, igniting a red hot, tingling sensation low in his gut. His mouth drops open in surprise but nothing comes out, his chest rapidly contracting with the quick gasps he pulls in. It still didn’t exactly feel good, or at least he’s pretty sure it doesn’t, but he felt … something from it. Something that takes his breath away and threatens to suffocate him. He’d never been penetrated like this before but to have Jeanne doing it, carefully fingering his body open, it occurred to him much too late that she was probably right. He probably was going to like this if she was the one doing it. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” He wheezes, fighting the instinctive urge to pull away when she just keeps going, dipping her finger further in until he feels the obvious press of her knuckle flush against his hole. Swaying unsteadily on his hands and knees, he frantically gropes for his frazzled thoughts for something to say. “That’s — hold on, please, just … take it slow, okay?” 

“Didn’t I already tell you I don’t have time for that, Kaveh? You’re going to take what I give you however I see fit to give it. Do you understand?” 

Not waiting for him to respond (as if he even could respond to that), Jeanne angles her finger down and gently massages along his inner wall. The sensation is strange and he still can’t quite decide if it was pleasurable or not, so he just squirms in place while she feels along his guts. At least it didn’t hurt. That seems to be his one and only consolation in this confusing situation he’s gotten himself in, and for that he was thankful. 

“Ah,” She suddenly blurts. “Found it.” 

He almost finds himself asking what it is she’s found in his ass of all places but he doesn’t quite make it any farther than opening his mouth. She abruptly angles that insidious digit downward, digging into his interior wall, and a shock of static electricity immediately shoots through his entire system with enough force to damn near bowl him right over. He comes very close to full on wailing in response even as his hips subconsciously buck under the pressure and his cock gives a distant, muted twitch. 

Icy fear promptly races down his spine. No. No, it couldn’t be — 

She repeats the motion, massaging down into that unimaginably sensitive bundle of nerves with a forceful curl of her finger, and his knees almost give out in response. He understood now what it was she wanted but he was helpless to stop it at this point, outright sobbing while she expertly turned his own body against him. No matter how much he tries to fight it or will it away, his cock was slowly coming back to life with each twist of her hand even when it hurt to do so. He was still much too sore after two consecutive orgasms but even through the discomfort he still gradually starts to harden again. 

Left with no other choice, Kaveh finally allows his upper body to sink down onto the bed where he folds his arms and buries his face in their protective cradle. He’d never be able to look Jeanne in the face after this. It had already started off bad enough when he’d shot his load in under four minutes but it had only continued to get worse from there, and now she was fingering his asshole to coax yet another erection out of him. 

Somehow it doesn’t even come as a surprise when the tears start up again. 

“There you go. Just look at you.” She murmurs approvingly some odd minutes later when his cock has finally finished filling out and it was now a heavy, hanging weight between his legs. “If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t even think you’ve gone one round yet.” 

“Nnghnoogh, please, Jeanne. This is hardly, aghhn, the time for jokes.” 

“You’re right. Well, let’s get you fitted then.”

Kaveh blinks through the tears, wondering what she was talking about now, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. She starts to slowly pull her finger out without any further warning and he whines at the resulting drag against his guts when the muscle tries to cling to her on the way out. It’s like she doesn’t even notice though, or perhaps she doesn’t care, and she slips free with a tiny little slurp from his clenching entrance. Physically cringing at the sound, he shoves his face further into the comfort of his arms and tries very hard not to sob. 

He can hear her fiddling with something behind him but he’s a little too far gone to wonder about what the next trial might be. He’d find out sooner or later anyway, and in this case it turns out to be quite soon. 

Carefully, her hands slip something over his rigid cock and draws it up to the base. It feels vaguely like leather, and that thought is quickly solidified in his mind when she tightens it until the material cinches around him in a tight squeeze that is resoundingly uncomfortable on his already nerve sensitive skin. Sucking in a sharp breath, Kaveh shoves himself up on his elbows so he can peer down at himself. Sure enough, the black thong secured around his scrotum is obvious and speaks for itself. The message was clear. If he couldn’t control himself enough to hold back his orgasms until she was satisfied then she’d help him out. Give him a nudge in the right direction. 

He absolutely hated how familiar that sentiment sounded. 

“You can’t — you can’t do that, Jeanne! It’s too tight and … that’s not fair, is it? I could have used my mouth.” 

“Ooh, are you whining, Kaveh? Such a sad little thing you are. Unfortunately it’s not your mouth I want right now though.” Rising up, she leans over him so she can press herself flush along his back. Her hand comes around to curl under his chin and manually turn his face up at her, and he offers her a tiny little sniffle to go with the puppy eyed face he makes. “What I want is that pretty cock you’ve got between your legs and you’re going to give it to me, aren’t you? Hm?” 

“Nnghn … yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. Now switch me spots.” 

She peels away from him so she can move up a little higher on the bed while he gingerly gets himself situated on his knees. Even just a brief glance down at the state of his poor cock, swollen and darkened by the tight band cutting off the circulation to keep him hard and ready, is enough to make him feel light headed with overwhelm. He’d wanted this though, had practically begged any god willing to listen for even just one real chance with Jeanne, and he knew better than to fight it. He’d dug this hole for himself so, with an accompanying sniffly, he compliantly moves to position himself between the bend of her knees when she gets settled on her back. And looking down at her spread out like that, he dully realizes that he’s never been happier in all his life. 

It wasn’t just that she was pushing his body right to its limits while simultaneously keeping the important bits of him grounded in reality, although that was certainly gratifying in its own right too. It also wasn’t a simple matter of fulfilling and acting on his long held attraction for her, making his fantasies a reality. Rather, there was something about this power dynamic between them that just made him feel whole and complete, like he’d been born just to play this role for her. He’d experienced felt anything quite like it before, and it is with an immense amount of nervous anticipation that he lines himself up with her entrance. 

“I’m going to do it.” He announces, thinking it was for her benefit, but she immediately shoots that idea down when she tsk’s very softly in response. 

“What did I tell you about relaxing, Kaveh? Don’t worry. I’m confident you’re going to do an excellent job.” 

As if to prove that, she reaches between them and wraps her fingers around his straining length, giving it a tight squeeze. He shudders, feeling every little thing in high definition when the nerves were so sensitized and swollen with excess blood. It’s hard just to breathe through it but she helps him with this as well by gently guiding him back into place and encouraging him with a slow tug. 

Clutching her soft thighs in a death grip, Kaveh follows the suggestion with his hips and pushes forward, spearing into hot creases and folds in torturous slow motion. He can’t quite bring his body to move any faster than that and he lets out a frazzled, high pitched keening sound when he starts to sink inside her body again. It felt even more intense than it did the first time, and he surely had the black thong cinched tight around his scrotum to thank for that. Almost like having a transcendental experience, it makes his soul feel like it’s flickering out at the edges.  

He keeps going though, a little too far gone within the heightened daze of his arousal to think of anything else other than burying himself as deep into Jeanne as he could reasonably go, and he doesn’t stop until his pelvis is flush with hers. Letting out a wounded, faltering grunt, he sways unsteadily over top of her. Tries to ground himself to no avail. He wasn’t going to come out of this on the other side the same person he’d once been. Of that he’d never been more certain.  

“Kaveh,” She says his name so soft, so dotingly, as her hands come up to cup his face and angle it down at her. “You’re crying again, my love. Do you really like being inside me that much?” 

Numbly nodding his head even while the tears continue to streak hot tracks down his cheeks, the blond fumbles for something to say before finally settling on, “I do. Of course I do, but … I want to make you feel good too.” 

A slow smile curls Jeanne’s mouth, more sly and knowing than it is sweet, but like a loyal dog Kaveh is just happy to get whatever he can. He doesn’t mind the way she looks at him like a hungry, powerful predator sizing up its prey and he doesn’t mind the way she reaches down to possessively grope at his chest either. Despite him being almost totally flat and lacking in much to grab, that doesn’t stop her from pinching at his poor little breast until he hisses, half in discomfort and half in pleasure. This, too, he was happy to be on the receiving end of. 

“You are making me feel good, you silly thing. But I’d feel even better if you started moving already. I’m not much for cock warming, you know.” 

He blushes straight up to his ears, stammering out a quick apology. Unconcerned, Jeanne slides her hand further down and then back to reach for his tight ass, giving it an appreciative jostle. 

“Quickly, now. If you don’t act soon I’ll have to fuck you instead and show you how it’s done. Considering the way you reacted just from having my finger inside you I don’t think you’re quite ready for that yet, are you?” 

“N - no, ma’am. I’m not.” 

“Didn’t think so. Then get moving.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

I'm thinking about how "cripples and bastards and broken things" isn't just about compassion shared between those who have been systematically othered. Because at its core, it's driven by love. Brotherly love. It starts with Jon who loved his brother Bran so purely and unconditionally that upon receiving news of his survival, was wholly preoccupied with Bran's mere living.

“Crippled,” Mormont said. “I’m sorry, boy. Read the rest of the letter.” He looked at the words, but they didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Bran was going to live. “My brother is going to live,” he told Mormont. The Lord Commander shook his head, gathered up a fistful of corn, and whistled. The raven flew to his shoulder, crying, “Live! Live!” Jon ran down the stairs, a smile on his face and Robb’s letter in his hand. “My brother is going to live,” he told the guards. They exchanged a look. He ran back to the common hall, where he found Tyrion Lannister just finishing his meal. He grabbed the little man under the arms, hoisted him up in the air, and spun him around in a circle. “Bran is going to live!” he whooped. Lannister looked startled. Jon put him down and thrust the paper into his hands. “Here, read it,” he said.

(Jon III, AGOT)

In fact it's his unbridled joy that helps Jon make peace with the rest of the NW recruits, something he had been struggling with for an entire chapter.

And it's this love that leads him to entreat Tyrion and ask for his help later on. He can give Rickon material possessions and pass on boasting words to Robb, but he's quite at a loss as to how he can help Bran. He only recognizes, and empathizes, that Bran does indeed need some sort of help. But it's here that he realized that though material possessions won't do much for his brother, his love can go a long way. He can't give Bran all the things in his chamber as he did for Rickon, but he can give him love.

“Rickon can’t read yet. Bran …” He stopped suddenly. “I don’t know what message to send to Bran. Help him, Tyrion.” “What help could I give him? I am no maester, to ease his pain. I have no spells to give him back his legs.” “You gave me help when I needed it,” Jon Snow said. “I gave you nothing,” Tyrion said. “Words.” “Then give your words to Bran too.”

And Tyrion recognizes this

“You’re asking a lame man to teach a cripple how to dance,” Tyrion said. “However sincere the lesson, the result is likely to be grotesque. Still, I know what it is to love a brother, Lord Snow. I will give Bran whatever small help is in my power.”

(Tyrion III, AGOT)

Though Tyrion is skeptical, Jon's love for Bran does push him to act. And he no doubt relates as he too has a brother whom he loves dearly. So when he finally presents himself before Winterfell's court and is met with hostility, he uses this love to make his case.

“Will I truly be able to ride?” Bran asked. He wanted to believe them, but he was afraid. Perhaps it was just another lie. The crow had promised him that he could fly. “You will,” the dwarf told him. “And I swear to you, boy, on horseback you will be as tall as any of them.” Robb Stark seemed puzzled. “Is this some trap, Lannister? What’s Bran to you? Why should you want to help him?” “Your brother Jon asked it of me. And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.” Tyrion Lannister placed a hand over his heart and grinned.

(Bran IV, AGOT)

We've seen Tyrion use japes to bring himself out of awkward situations. Yet when his intentions are questioned here, he chooses instead to use the truth to advocate for himself. In this tense moment, Tyrion uses a brother's love (Jon's and his own) as his shield.

[razorblade180-heated]

A wonderful performance

[Hey, it’s a smut]

[Disclaimer, I wrote a fair share of this before 4.3 so it’s been reconstructed quite a bit. Spare me.]

“The grass is always greener on the other side” is a well known phrase put to test in many plays, movies, and of course, life. Furina had witnessed this truth many times over the centuries but she never thought it would rear its head as she was granted her new lease on life. At last she had been granted a chance at peace, simplicity, freedom, and way off stage. These were all things that brought a sense of ease to a wary mind that she did not take for granted. However, not even she expected to breathe a sigh of relief upon being granted a Vision. Maybe it was because she felt a lack of power her entire life? Whatever the reason, excitement stirred in her chest under the pale moonlight as she stood on the shore line using her gift to have a certain sway over the low tide. Divinity was something Furina didn’t care for and she was sure gaining mastery over her abilities would open more peculiar doors rather than a path of peace; yet that didn’t terrify her. Rather, Furina felt relief in knowing if she chose to stand on stage and greet the audience with another spectacle, it just might be possible. The humor heart is indeed a fickle thing.

“I’ve truly lost my mind.” She chuckled under her breath, forming a seashell out of hydro.

“That’s pretty.” Called out a familiar voice.

Furina’s broken concentration brought her creation splashed onto the sand. She looked to her right to see none other than Aether walking over, soaked head to toe. “Night swimming are we? Will wonders never cease?”

“Sorta? I was helping someone looking for something as well as collecting a few resources.”

“For your sake I hope it wasn’t crustaceans. Only a few are allowed to the public in this area during this time of season. I doubt you have the list memorized.”

“Pfft, is that so?” He laughed, until he saw Furina stare with unblinking eyes. “Wait, that’s an actual law!?”

“I am going to pretend you found some old mechanical tools and played with the otters.”

“I mean…that also did in fact happen.” He got closer to the girl before sitting on the white sandy beach. “Anyway, what brings you out here in the dead of night? Looks like you’re training.”

“Training? Ha!” Furina snapped her fingers and her honored guests appeared, running around to play while Furina crossed her legs and sat on a bubble she made. “I’m reveling in my new found strength.” She boasted happily, summoning a wheel that held different desserts.

Aether still couldn’t believe how effortless Furina made that look. “Wow, you already found multiple ways to use hydro.”

“The power of water is the ability to take any shape after all. I can even walk across it. Wouldn’t want to go around drenched all the time now would we?” She teased.

“It’s not that bad. Though I probably should’ve brought a towel to-” before he could even finish, Furina took all of the moisture out of his clothes while eating a piece of cake. “Huh…you sure you’re not somehow still an Oceanid or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Although, his question did make her look at her hands as well as examine the beautiful deep blue gem that made this all possible. “…It’s always said Visions are a blessing, a favor from the gods. I wouldn’t really know but… maybe it only makes sense I’m naturally adept at this. It’s a strange feeling. Mirror-me didn’t really teach me a lot and at the same time it feels like it would’ve been redundant.”

“Do you somehow feel closer to her now?”

“In a sense, I suppose so. I can’t really say how that feels. It simply is what it is. Fate is odd like that. Either way, I intend to express all of me. Even if I don’t exactly understand yet what that means for me.” Furina looked at the ocean. “To think after everything I can still find peace at this sight.”

“I’m sure many others feel the exact same conflicting feeling.”

“Fontainian’s and their homeland. We’re certainly a colorful group of people.” She smiled. “Although it would be wonderful if we could be a little less observant. It took entirely too much effort to sneak over here. I even ran into Clorinde during a shift change apparently. Fortunately we remain pleasant towards one another. I do hope she takes the night off like I suggested.”

“Hold on. Sneaking? Why were you sneaking around? There’s no curfew. Though I do imagine most normal people are in bed by now.”

“I don’t think that last sentence was necessary.” She scoffed. “Need I remind you that you’re here as well?”

“Don’t try and get around the question.”

“Ugh, it’s nothing, honest. I just…would rather not bump into many people. After all…Poisson isn’t the only place resentment lingers.” Furina’s bubble popped, causing her to land on the sand as she deflated. “Not that I can blame them.”

“Things like these take time. A lot has happened. It’ll take a while to process.”

“I might know that better than most. I doubt I've truly come to terms with even half of what I feel inside. Regardless, I’m not looking or expecting forgiveness. Their animosity is completely warranted. I could only treat symptoms to what was a long and threatening illness, I. The grand scheme of things that is.”

Aether scrunched his face. He couldn’t exactly call himself the biggest optimist in general or when it came to the prophecy. Even so… “I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. In fact, neither did I. Be it your powers or lack thereof, you’re very quick to learn and adapt. Not to mention resilient. I’m sorry if it ever came across that I underestimated you.”

Furina felt her cheeks gain a little warmth. Here she was saying she didn’t need apologies or forgiveness, yet hearing it from Aether did nicely for her guilty heart. Not to mention the genuine praise of her capabilities. “Thank you, but really, there’s no need. If I was underestimated then that only means I did my job well, right? I never wanted anyone to see me worry or anything of the sort. It would’ve only brought them closer behind the curtain meant to be shut. I won’t say it wasn’t frustrating; no, I could never say that. Also, if you ask me, not being able to do more because I lacked the power to is a poor excuse. I wish I could have saved more people if anything.”

Aether could see the deep regret in her tired expression, born not from lack of trying, but from the fact her best was all she had. Aether wished he could properly disagree, but he knows the sting of wishing to be better well.

“Furina…”

“Heh, sorry.” She shook away the negative thoughts. “I didn’t mean to make this conversation heavy. I should try following Navia’s example more. Moving on is nearly impossible if all you do is bring up the past. Fontaine is in safer hands now.”

“They’ve always been.” He said with a stern voice that caught Furina’s attention. “We might not be able to do everything we wish we could, but that doesn’t mean you were lacking or inadequate. Earlier today I heard someone thank their blessings by giving gratitude to the Hydro Archon; another person said your name fondly in regards to this nation’s safety. Some even went as far as to call you Focalor.”

“Wh-What!? The news by now has had to have circulated even to the other lands about…you know…”

“My point exactly. You’re tired and down on yourself. I get that. Still, I hope you know for many people, real or not, you were their Hydro Archon for 500 years and held your responsibilities right to the very end. When that title is invoked many will think of you, and if you were to ask them me, I’d tell you that’s earned. I hope you can find comfort in that somehow.”

Furina didn’t understand why this shocked as much as it did. If anything, she was always highly aware of the feelings her, or rather, Fontaine’s people held. If she weren’t honest with herself, though the role she played brought unimaginable grief, she held zero regret in her choice or could say there was absolutely no joy over the centuries. Even the saddest of tragedies had their glimmer of light. If they didn’t, how would the character, performer, or audience truly understand what was tragic about it all?

“You know something? I think you might actually make for a good attorney. Not only do you bring sound reasoning consistently, but somehow you always seem to sway what’s in a person’s heart.”

Aether couldn’t help but laugh off the thought awkwardly. “Thanks for the compliment, but I'm honestly a nervous wreck every time I was in those stands. Don’t think I have the stomach for it all that much. Speaking of which…” he trailed off.

“Ah… is this the part where you want to apologize for nearly getting me killed?” Furina said quickly and with the utmost bluntness.

“That…was no one’s plan. I’m the slightest I might add.”

“Mmhmm, buuuut it certainly happened. There’s a suspended death sentence in my name inside some filing cabinet. That exists now.” She teased further, poking his arm with faux aggression. “As I said earlier, there’s no need to apologize for those things. I can see that I didn’t make things easy and how everyone, including myself, did all we could with what we understood. It wouldn’t make sense to hold that against any of you. However…I won’t lie and say I didn’t feel…blindsided.”

She said it nicely, but Aether remembered the hurt that riddled her eyes in the moment she realized she was lured into a trap.

“You’re right.” He said, turning away from her gaze to look at anything across the water. “I still wanted to say I’m sorry. It’s just that…”

He grew silent. Furina could understand but was still rather annoyed how now he was the one making things heavy and looking back! “Just what? Out with it already.” She crossed her arms.

“…I never wanted to make you cry.”

The rolling waves filled the space between them as they both let his words hang in the air. Furina could see the tips of his ears become stricken with red while she felt a flutter in her chest. Of all things that happened that day, she would’ve never guessed that’s what he was going to say.

“I…” she sighed. Damnit! You would think at this point she could handle curveball situations like this as quickly and easily as breathing. Furina took a deep exhale before breathing in composure, displaying a smile he couldn’t see and summoning bravado. “What an interesting thing to say. Let’s be honest with ourselves. It’s not as if you made me cry. Saying so would be taking credit from hundreds of other reasons I often want to cry about. It just so happened that day the scales tipped! Also…” her became more earnest, “Fate said I was going to weep. So please, don’t feel bad. Okay?”

Aether turned back around to see Furina showing off a smile that said “it’s fine.” Aether smiled back. “Someone is certainly more expressive.”

“I am an actress! It’s my duty to convey my feelings with my glance and every movement!” She said proudly.

“It’s a little confusing though when you look fed up yet clearly give longing looks, Madame Focalor.” He said with a cheeky grin.

Her face flared red. Furina would’ve thought her ears had grown weary of that name; yet hearing his lips say it was….“I-I have done no such thing! You’re simply awful at reading people! And don’t call me that so casually! More importantly, are you saying your gaze is so fixed on me to the point of pondering my feelings about trivial things?”

“So those glances are trivial?” He teases. “You wound me.”

“So you do want them to be longing? Ah ha!” She pointed, watching him play off the accusation with an eye roll. “Roll your eyes all you like. It’s not like I can blame fleeting flights of fancy. I still am Fontaine’s biggest celebrity!” She stands up proudly.

Aether begins clapping in a way that could only be described as petty. Furina couldn’t believe even after all of this, admitting he might have a certain fondness for her was beyond him. Meanwhile, the young man was glad to see her look more energetic. It would seem like the chip on her shoulder wasn’t all an act. It was definitely amusing and nice, if not a little tiring at times. Furina de Fontaine in a nutshell.

The air between them began to feel more playful and rather mischievous as Furina gave a smirk, taking this man by the hands and pulling him up to his feet.

“What’s all this about?”

“I figured you’ve done nothing but grill my authenticity while you play coy. Admittedly your acting is fine but I hardly say that role suits you. All this time I’ve barely seen anything that constitutes your praise as an adventure.”

“What!? I helped save Fontaine! It’s not my fault you weren’t around for the one huge battle!”

“Excuses. That’s all I hear from you. You’re definitely cunning and quick witted, but I’m strangely unconvinced; so if you’re going to keep your eyes on me, might as well put them to the test along with a few other skills.” Furina puts her hat on Aether and tilts it down just over his eyes. “Hold it just like that and count to 70. No cheating now.”

Aether holds the hat like she says. “And when I’m done?”

“You’re a renowned traveler who’s been here for a while haven’t you? Let’s see just how well you know your way around this kingdom. Start counting.”

He could hear her sprint off swiftly. In a matter of seconds, all he could hear was the waves. Furina sure could move when she wanted to. Aether laughed as he continued to count mentally. As he hit 70, he removed the hat from his face and immediately noticed the water stole her footprints aside from the ones immediately next to him.

“Well played Furina. Well played…”

xxxxx

Skipping, giggling and sneaking about, Furina happily moved around her beloved territory. Skilled or not, Aether was in her domain. The likelihood of him even knowing the patrol of the Gardes was incredibly low.

“I do hope he makes this interesting for me.” She hummed, heading west from the main plaza.

“Psssst!” Hissed a few streets away.

Furina whipped her head around and gasped, spotting the blonde sitting at a table with a smug smile. How did he get here so quickly!? It had to be luck, right? Her answer came as he casually pointed to his shoes. Furina looked down at her own and noticed not all of the sand had abandoned the soles.

“Ah…..” Furina looked back up, gave a sheepish shrug, then immediately took off sprinting around the corner.

“Guess we’re doing tag rules then.”

Aether got up with her hat in hand before giving chase. She really was quick on her feet. He barely saw a flash of blue fabric float by as he turned the corner himself. Deeper and deeper he went into Fontaine’s alleyways; going under aquabus bridges and slipping through a side path he’s never noticed. Unlike the other places he’s visited, Fontaine’s major city somehow managed to feel dense one moment then open space the next. The chase was harder than he expected. Furina seemed to slip past every stacked box and promotional sign like a street cat. Clearly this was a path well traversed by her. It was probably how someone with her level of fame managed to slip away from unfavorable situations.

Furina casually ducked between a gap in a fence and around the back of a bakery to find herself one of the most out of the way and peaceful spots in Fontaine. It was a pretty little alleyway; hardly was there any foot traffic during the busiest days. Almost makes her wonder if her people notice it. This precious little space might as well not exist. Furina was convinced some criminal at least had to know about it, but no. This was easily her favorite little hiding hole away from prying eyes.

She put her back against the brick wall and caught her breath. Next time she’ll remember to check her shoes. She had planned to get here a little more eloquently. Oh well. She looked back the way she came, as well as down the path that would lead back to the main streets. No sign of her pursuer.

Did he double back? That was a possibility, but Furina definitely heard his steps hot on her heels for some time. “No way I actually gave him the slip.” She whispered to herself.

“Perish the thought.” He responded.

Furina’s hat fell right onto her head. Her gaze looked towards the sky to see him look down from the roof. With a single hop, he descended and landed right in front of her before she could think about slipping away. Aether put his hands on either side of her and smirked.

“That’s the game. Convinced of my skills now?”

“Quite a lot of effort you put into this. All I’m convinced of is how you can’t stand not having your eyes on me.” Furina playfully wrapped her right hand around his white scarf. It was softer than it looked. “I typically find this level of dedication from my friends a nuisance. I hope you understand that?”

“So I’m a fan now?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I might be. You are definitely talented. I’d see another show.”

“Heh, I rest my case then.” She may have been exaggerating before but now that he was this close… “I can’t be mad about eyes that are this pretty watching me.”

“Like you could be mad at all. Are we still acting like you didn’t lead me here?”

“Is that so~ An interesting accusation.”

“Well I can’t be a fan of Furina de Fontaine if I couldn’t claim to understand her even just a little bit. She’s smarter than she leads on; always thinking about her next move to get what she wants because how could she not? It’s who she is. So, Furina, go ahead. Take what you want~”

She tried remaining resolute in their face off. At this point however, Furina grew intolerant of theatrics; especially when his were so thinly veiled. Even so, she had to admit his commitment to it was something she couldn’t help but stubbornly adore. “I swear…you are so…” Furina didn’t even bother finishing her words.

She wrapped her hand further, pulling Aether down into a feverish kiss neither could resist any longer. Furina invited the boy's eager tongue to slip in between her lips while his right hand grabbed her by the waist and pressed her body up against him. Her left arm draped over his shoulder then folded in to keep his lips right where she wanted. Not that he had thoughts of leaving. Aether leaned deeply into the kiss, fully exploring her so-called, “prideful mouth.” Although right now, the only thing escaping from it were the moans he stole from her.

They savored every second of their growing passion in the secluded alleyway until Furina released him at least. Their chests heaved, desperately taking air as the two of them stared at each other’s reddened faces. She could feel his growing excitement press against her stomach and couldn’t help but smirk.

Her bewitching eyes glowed a faint blue that Aether couldn’t help but drown in. Furina’s hands began moving again, slowly trailing down his chest, then his stomach, and finally stopping at his hips as her fingers tugged on his waistband.

“Isn’t public indecency a crime?”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Her voice hummed with a playful hunger that reached her smile. Though it seemed Aether wasn’t letting her have free reign entirely. His right hand took both of her wrists and she let out a small gasp as he put them overhead against the wall. “Scared of getting caught?” She teased, trying to sound unbothered.

“Not exactly, but am I not worthy of your chambers?”

“Ha! And you claim I’m not the honest one? How can a I grant a plea if you’re not clear~” Furina kept her eyes on his. She used her right leg to press against the outside of his left, rubbing up against it teasingly so. His face said everything, but Furina wanted his words. “Go on, speak your mind.”

Aether gladly spoke his mind, but not before keeping Furina in check. He had no problem expressing his desires, but he wasn’t about to let her ego grow so easily. Furina remained unblinking as he removed his left glove with his teeth before dropping it. Aether found his way to her soft and cool torso, dipping lower into her shorts. The actress’s blush only grew along with her sultry smile when he reached wet, warm lips that his fingers slowly massaged.

Furina let out a quiet sigh as the adventurer slipped into her and started curling two fingers to the point her hips jutted out and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“Mmm~”

“We’ve danced around too long to get to this point.” Aether leaned into Furina’s ear. “I want to savor you, so let’s take this behind closed doors; my dear Madam Focalor.”

Such a lovely little act. “That can be arranged.” She let his face back up just a little before stealing his lips. Again, his tongue was greeted by hers; only this time her hips were way more involved in their passion. Furina didn’t even try to free her wrists from his grasp. He was getting so forceful with her body. So…possessive. It was becoming a bit of a struggle to do anything besides listen, and despite her pride, Furina was finding bliss. Aether didn’t stop stirring her insides as he started to ravish her neck. Furina would’ve been done for if it wasn’t for Aether suddenly stopping the moment her knees began buckling. His fingers left her body but she quickly grabbed the lustful hand, catching Aether by surprise. She wouldn’t be put on the back foot completely.

“Shall we get going?” Furina said, guiding his hand to her face. She looked right at him with intense eyes as wrapped her lips around the two soaked digits, licking them clean. Furina left no space between them. Even if he tried to downplay the emotions on his face, the hot throbbing that poked her lower body told all of the blonde’s secrets. “I wouldn’t blame you however, if you needed just a moment of clarity before we made the trip.” Just how long could the boy endure? Furina was eager to find out. She snaked his hand around her throat to make him even more flustered, but was caught off guard to feel his grip tighten just enough for her to realize. Another gasp left her; and Aether leaned in real close.

“Lower your shorts.”

A victory for Furina, although just like always, she had put herself in a position where backing down wasn’t an option. She pulled down her shorts to her knees, allowing the chill air to greet her body while her hands were already pulling down Aether’s pants until she felt his erection spring out and tap her inner thigh. Thank goodness it was dark. It was the only thing hiding just how comically red her cheeks have gotten. Her digits ran along its length, memorizing its shape as she made it slick with a mixture of their arousal and a bit of hydro. His free hand found her butt and made her smirk even more apparent as she felt him squeeze.

“Guess you couldn’t wait after all?”

“Hush.” He groaned.

Air filled Furina’s lungs as she felt Aether push into her. Her playful gaze left as her eyes became wide from the intrusion that commanded her body to hold it tightly. “Oooh my~” Furina grabbed his face and pulled him into another tongue war as Aether rolled his hips into hers. “Mmph!!” Every thrust stole a moan. His hold on her neck remained steady while her waist was kept firmly in place for him to gouge out her insides.

Aether’s grunts matched her feverish panting she snuck in between breaths. How’d he allow her to rile him up so easily? It was as if he was spellbound, burdened with a thirst only she could quench and a desire to shut Furina up. Neither wanted to lose this little game of theirs, but Aether could barely think straight, feeling just how tight her walls are. Not to mention how wet and warm the girl was. If it wasn’t for the smacking of their make out session, the leading noise in this alleyway would be the sound of her pussy swallowing him up. The harder he thrusts, the more Furina sucked on his tongue. She moved her hands around the back of his head in fear of the pleasure causing her to squeeze his face too hard. What was meant to be a bit of foreplay had turned into full blown fucking.

“Anghn, like that~” her voice trembled. “Just like that.” Her body yielded to his movements as his cock dug into a sweet spot repeatedly. In this moment Aether could make her throw her pride aside as long as she got to cum. Every pump felt so heavy and wanting of her body. No person could deny such ecstasy. Not even a god. Furina pried her lips away from Aether’s for her own sanity. “H-Hey…you can cum.. whenever y’know?” Praying he’d leave her with the ability to walk at least.

The strength in her voice waned but Aether found it endearing. He let go of her throat and let her head rest over his shoulder; partly for his own benefit. They both may have started off too strongly. Aether gave several more thrusts before forcing himself to pull out. It was so sudden that Furina’s legs nearly gave out.

“C-Careful!” She trembled. Furina looked down at the unruly appendage that stirred her, watching it spill its seed. “Now, now, evidence is the last thing we need to leave.” She pointed at the mess and washed it away with a stream of hydro before going a little limp on top of the boy.

Aether let out a chuckle. “That’s certainly handy. You okay?”

“Better shape than you. Though a small break is much deserved for your efforts.” She said, sinking into the wall as if it was some luxury mattress.

“Heh, why thank you.”

Both of them found their antics a little ridiculous yet oh so fun at this point. Furina had half a mind to pull the blonde in for another kiss when suddenly, a rumbling trash can startled them stiff. Aether quickly clothed himself and covered Furina from any prying eyes. Their quick maneuvering was in vain however. The trash fell over and out from behind it was a simple cat running off.

Thankful for the outcome but now on edge, Furina realized perhaps Aether had a point. She had no idea how she would’ve explained this to a Garde. “Let’s move this performance to my chambers.” She whispered.

xxxxxx

“ Anyone could say what they want about Furina, but they can’t say she isn’t entertaining.” Those words were always echoed by the people of Fontaine. Aether had to admit every day understood those words more and more. Beyond entertaining however, Furina was surprisingly cunning in unpredictable ways. It made sense for a ruler, former or otherwise, to know their kingdom, but for her to lead Aether all the way to her abode unseen through the quietest Fontainian streets was rather impressive indeed.

“You know you’re quite mischievous when you want to be.”

“It’s my personal spice of life. Everything deserves a little twist.” She took him by the scarf again and walked backwards into her room. By the time the door clicked, Furina was already feeling him up once more as they kissed against it. Frankly it was amazing they kept their hands off each other long enough to get here. It would appear Aether had recovered from their brief but wonderful moment of bliss. Good. Furina wasn’t done with him yet.

Aether felt her hands mess with her shirt and helped her out by raising his arms to quickly discard it. Furina continued to guide him by the lips further into the room then playfully pushed him onto her extravagant bed laced with the finest blue silk sheets which had to be one of coziest mattresses he’s ever felt.

“Wow. Can we just skip to the part where we sound asleep?” He looked down to see the woman already fishing his erection out from his pants. “Guess that’s a n- ngh~”

Music to Furina’s ears. She figured giving the boy a taste would silence his cute banter. Right now she was far more interested in the blush on his face spreading. As capable of a warrior Aether was, Furina was surprised to learn just how passive he could be. Once again she found her gaze fixated on his flickering eyes as she took him down to the back of her throat; she even went as far to moan, sending vibrations through his body that made his hips rise.

“Furina!” He panted, overwhelmed by her hyperactive tongue coiling around him. Aether found it difficult to look at her directly which in turn, only made her more enthusiastic. He began to feel the pleasure rise gradually, his cock twitching violently before Furina dragged her lips off of him.

“Oh no you don’t.” Furina said, wiping her mouth with a single finger. “Do try to last a little longer. We haven’t gotten to the best part.” She gave him a seductive smile as she finally removed her shorts entirely, along with pale blue panties. In truth, she found her impatience a little unbecoming, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care at the moment. Furina gladly straddled Aether, raising her hips right over his raging manhood before slowly piercing herself with it.

“Mmmngh~” she couldn’t deny how full she felt; how he seemed to touch…everything. Furina took a moment to try and calm her breathing as well as her body before proceeding any further. At that time, Aether sat up to meet her and began reaching for her top, but Furina grabbed his hand in reflex.

Aether was surprised by the reaction, and to see Furina’s eyes quickly dart away from his own. “I suppose divine stars can have such relatable insecurities like these.” He spoke softly.

“I may be a star, as you say, but that makes me no less of a woman.” She said, a bit more defensively than she would’ve liked.

“That’s fair. Still, for you to be insecure about this? You, who has the noblest of forms…” he reached for her again. “Bewitching and divine beyond reason and comprehension~”

Furina felt her heart skip a beat. He removed her hat then began quietly working on her top while she remained rigidly still. Those words he spoke could’ve easily been sugar coated, yet Furina let them have their sway; she raised her arms and let Aether see…everything. “It’s not much.”

“Doesn’t matter; It’s what I’m looking for.” He said just as quickly, leaning in as he wrapped his arms around her porcelain skin. “You’re perfect.”

Furina was undone by his teeth sinking into her neck, nipping away towards her collarbone and then assaulting her chest with warm lips and an even warmer tongue.

“Mmm. Truly you are…hopeless.” She swooned, her hips rocking in his laps reflexively. “Fine then, have your fill!” Furina’s arms kept him close.

Aether gladly began to devour her figure, leaving no part unmarked by his affection. Furina didn’t know what was worse. His persistence, or the feeling of his cock growing inside deeper than ever before. Furina felt her face grow hot. His words were no lie at all. The very thought made her body squeeze him in place while her hips kept moving on their own. She pressed her soft, shapely ass onto his lap, grinding his length right up against her womb while she felt Aether’s teeth ensnare a nipple and tease it relentlessly. Furina couldn’t stop her nails from running in between his shoulder blades as she lost composure. There was no hiding it from him; she wanted all she could take from him.

Aether stopped his oral assault for only a moment but it was enough time for Furina to push him back down against the mattress, her hands roaming down his chest as she let out breathless pants. He couldn’t utter even one word as watched in awe as Furina’s movements flowed like a stream; the way her hips would raise only to slam back down and how she shut her eyes to focus on the pleasure drove Aether crazy. Everything felt so wonderful and stuck to his length like warm honey. It took so much strength to not scream when she completely sat down on his lap and rolled her hips forward while her nails grazed his ribs and traced his toned chest.

Furia looked down at him, hearing the sharp, strained breaths come in and out between as kept his eyes shut tightly. The blush on his face was a beautiful red, like a vintage wine ready to devour. Furina laid her body completely on top of his body, continuing to raise, lower, and roll her hips as she began nipping his ear or kissing his neck. As she thought. It was tastier than any wine. Furina was ready to stay like this and drink him up forever until a sudden burst of heat rushed into her body, causing her to gasp. The girl sat up immediately and looked down. Her eyes widened and cheeks glowed scarlet seeing Aether’s cock twitch violently as thick, white cum began leaking out of her. Furina looked back up at Aether to see him covering his face with one hand.

He looked through spread fingers and sure enough, the woman on top of him was grinning like a mischievous cat. “I was close from your blowjob.” He defended.

“Now why don’t I believe that in its entirety?” She cooed, loving his flustered expression. “Not that I can blame you. As you said, I’m bewitching.” She took his hand and ran it up her body, earning another twitch. “Was I too much?”

Aether had no defense for that. He sat up and put his face against her chest to hide better. “You’re annoying is what you are.” He groaned, knowing his ears had to red. He could feel Furina’s fingers playing with his braid. “I got a bit overwhelmed.”

“No need to explain yourself.” She hummed, proud of her performance. He clearly didn’t notice all the little orgasms and jolts of pleasure she was experiencing. “Feel free to recover. After all, it would be natural for someone such as I to be overstimulating to a mortal. I felt lovely. I won’t hold this against-” She cut her victory lap short, feeling Aether began to grow inside of her again. “H-Huh?”

Aether pushed his waist forward, causing Furina to let out a yelp as she was put on her back with Aether perfectly looking down at her between her legs. A jolt went through her as he grabbed both her thighs and moved her legs onto his shoulders where they dangled. The fierce determination in his gaze made Furina realize she might have spoken too soon about his submissive tendencies. Perhaps she had gloated a little too much?

“We can uh…take a break if you’re tir-aah~” She felt his waist dip until it met her body. Aether leaned over her and whispered.

“I said I was going to savor you.” He pulled out to the tip, then plunged right back in.

Furina felt the air leave her lungs and brain stutter for a moment as Aether began pounding her relentlessly. Her limbs didn’t know to grip the sheets or onto him, but they settled for clawing the sheets of the rocking bed. “W-Wait! Anngh! It’s…too deep~” her moans were blatant, mouth agape as she pleaded. The reply she received was his tongue conquering hers, and yet she made no argument against it. “Mmmmm~”

There was nothing to do but take his passion. Furina was certain he was harder than before and making her hips float with every soaked plunge into her. It was a good thing they were kissing, or else someone would’ve definitely heard her wail as he turned up the intensity. It was too much for her. His weight made sure he hit the bottom of her deepest part every time to the point Furina could only…

“MMMPH!?” Her body jerked violently, the inside of her walls gripping like a vase and unleashing a turret of her arousal that dampened the sheets as Aether pulled out and let her legs fall. Furina’s head was so clouded and her breathing was uncomfortable while the pleasure gradually subsided. So much of her strength had been eaten away, but she wasn’t even mad at it. Furina was too busy trying to calm down to care about anything else, even the fact a perfectly good set of sheets were ruined.

“Y-You…brute.” She groaned in pouty satisfaction, still feeling his efforts. Furina would not know true rest however. Aether slowly flipped her over to her stomach. She felt his strong hands grab her hips and raise them until she felt his tip press against her folds. “But I just came~” she whined, despite shaking her hips to feel him rub against her.

“Don’t tell me this mere mortal has overstimulated you?” He said with a hunger in his voice.

Furina let out a long groan as he pulled her onto his cock. “Mmngh, I’m sorry…!” she moaned, reaching for one of many pillows and burying her face in it as Aether’s hips plowed into her again, mercilessly thrusting like a piston. “Aaaaannh~”

Why did she adore this so much? She had him in the palm of her hand earlier and now she was sweating as he took her like an animal. It wasn’t that he was only thrusting, but commanding her hips to push into him, creating such a terribly indecent sound that echoed like steps in a puddle. She knew she wanted everything from him, but it was so embarrassing yet hot to give him everything he craved.

Aether listened to the symphony of squeals and moans as he watched the ripples her ass crested whenever he pushed forward into her body. Her skin was wonderfully flushed like his and the pleasure didn’t seem to end. “You’re so beautiful.”

How dare he say that to her now? When all she could do is push back even harder and submit to his hunger. She knew he could feel her grip tighten. There was no hiding from his words or what was in her heart.

Furina probably thought his ego spurred his actions. While that was admittedly part of the truth, it was insignificant to the infatuation he had seeing her so wanting and pleased by him. Furina was finally being honest.

He made her go prone and put his weight on her again and he took her gripped knuckles. “Look at me.” He rasped.

Furina looked over her right shoulder to see his face an inch away. She instantly closed her eyes and went in for a kiss they both so eagerly wanted. His fingers interlocked hers while his hips made sure she felt his unruly length get buried into her body as he fucked her into the bed. Aether ended their kiss and got his revenge from earlier, licking and nipping at her ear lobe. “Nooo~” her body trembled. “I’ll…”

“Give it to me. Don’t try to fight it. I want to see you cum, Madam Focalor~” He bit her neck.

His teeth found her neck as she was left with those sultry words that would be her undoing. “F..uck.” She put her face in the pillow and screamed, her walls taking hold of Aether’s trembling cock and squeezing it until it had no choice but to erupt again while her own arousal ran down her twitching legs.

Both of them felt the exhaustion hit, laying motionless as they groaned from the pleasure and fatigue. Aether rolled off of Furina and laid on his stomach right next to her. He turned his head to see the girl staring at him with pouty puffed out cheeks. Maybe he went a little overboard.

“Hehe…umm, my ba-”

“I want a normal kiss.” She huffed.

Aether blinked silently before giving a small smile. “As you wish.” He scooted closer and gently placed his lips on her, feeling her body ease into his.

Furina placed her head under his chin and silently, yet loudly, commanded comfort by resting against him. He was very quick on the uptake, placing his arm around her torso. “You performed wonderfully.” She hummed. “Now stay just like this for now. I won’t tolerate waking up alone.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I was all for skipping to this part.”

“Ha, as if I’d let you. Although…I can see the appeal.” She shut her eyes.

xxxxxx

When the god finally arose, the day had already begun. Furina opened her eyes to muffled light through the curtains but more importantly, her head rested on Aether’s bare chest. It appeared they moved a bit in their sleep. It was only when she sat up she realized they didn’t just move, but properly under clean sheets and on the appropriate side of the bed.

“….” She poked Aether’s cheek repeatedly until he groaned. “Hey, did you move us?”

“Mmhmm.” He mumbled. “You’re a heavy sleeper and I got a little cold, so I took us to bed properly.”

“But where did you get the clean sheets?”

He pointed towards the door. Furina looked to see a giant note on it with beautiful handwriting she immediately recognized. It said, “Do be mindful of regular patrol and shift changes, my lady. Do not fear however. No traces were discovered, and as always, my silence is yours. Sleep well, Clorinde.”

Furina felt utterly mortified, covering her bright red face. “Why is she so diligent!? She doesn’t even work for me! I told her to relax!”

“My guess is she had a vague idea of possible trouble you could find yourself in and thought it would be better for her to find out instead of someone else by mistake. She may have even known about the alley.” Aether sat up briefly with his undone hair flowing freely. He hugged the paralyzed Furina and brought her back down to bed. “Worry later, or rather, thank Clorinde later. It’s still sleepy time.”

She had no clue how he could be so calm about this!? Yet she also wasn’t about to disturb him. Though that note rid her of sleep, Furina stayed in his arms for comfort. She would think about everything else later. Her eyes drank in his sleeping face, the way his slightly flushed lips curled made her own lips curl up. Under dim light through blinds. Furina couldn’t stop replaying last night’s performance. Those lips of his were so active, so…wanting. They took and gave everything faster than she could process. For the first time in a long time, being overwhelmed felt glorious. She had to admit that right now…if she had the chance to-

Aether opened his eyes, feeling the lady’s gaze on him. He sat up and she followed suit. “If you want something then feel free to say it.” Aether said, casually grinning.

Furina’s cheeks were struck with red. Was he a mind reader now!? “D-Don’t put this on me! You’d think I’d fall for such an obvious plea for-” her defense was immediately cut at the source via Aether grabbing her lower jaw and pulling her in slowly as he stared at her with calm amber eyes. Her heart nearly stopped.

“It might be noon, but don’t you think it’s too early for theatrics? If you can swallow your pride right now, I’ll make it worth everything and more. Just like last night.” He said, morning voice and all.

Furina was left speechless and now bright red. Such a bold proposition! How dare he commanded such authority, and yet…it wasn’t exactly terrible. At least that’s how she tried to convince herself about her feelings towards it. In truth, it was embarrassingly marvelous.

Furina averted his gaze again and removed his hand. Without a word, she bent down, putting her head in his lap while pushing away the covers. She guided his length back into her mouth and began coiling her tongue to invigorate Aether once again. She can’t believe she was doing this, during broad daylight no less! He really was so annoying. It didn’t help she felt a hand start to rub the top of her head while another grabbed her exposed rear, its fingers sliding along it to meet her folds and give them attention.

“Mmm~” Furina raised her hips, allowing two fingers to properly slip inside of her as she continued her efforts in earnest. She felt Aether grow to the point her jaw hung open, his thick and leaking tip greeting her throat.

Aether could barely feel his hips from the way Furina relentlessly lapped his length. “Nngh, good girl.” He teased, committing to his role. He didn’t expect her body to give him a gripping reaction around his fingers. Looks like Furina was still full of surprises for them to discover together. “Okay, I’m a man of my word. Get on my lap.”

Furina took a deep breath as she came up. His fingers left her wanting as they left, but that was fine when what’s to come would feel much better. She couldn’t even find it in herself to boast about Aether’s reactions. Instead she quickly put one leg on each side of him and angled herself above his cock like last night. Slowly, she lowered herself, shutting her eyes tightly as her body remembered last night.

“Aaaa~” she moaned, sinking down further until she was sitting completely on him. Furina felt her hips go numb and her body twitch from the rush of a hot tongue tracing her modest chest. Furina didn’t even get the chance to open her eyes again before feeling her body fall backwards onto the bed; added weight held her body in place as that same tongue slipped past her lips and took it away to his own. The fullness inside was dragged back out to the entrance before slamming back down. A guttural groan rumbled in her chest as it happened again, and again, and again….

Damn that Aether. Nobody moves like this without having their own desires. She could hear every sharp inhale he took and felt the hunger in his hips feed them both ravenous pleasure. He might’ve made her swallow her pride, but only to hide the fact his mind was in the exact same place hers was. Furina couldn’t be bothered to be upset at the ruze at this point. She put her arms around his neck, drowning in their embrace as the heat between their bodies grew hotter. It wasn’t long before either worked a little sweat. That didn’t stop Aether at all though. Furina couldn’t stop her toes from curling after each and every deep thrust that pried her open. It was impossible to tell who was trembling at this point, the both of them soaring high until a final plunge into her released hot seed that her body ringed out with pleasure. Their kisses ended with heavy breathing and strained breath that tickled each other’s ears.

When Aether said, “Just like last night” Furina didn’t expect him to skip towards the intensity he displayed near the end! Her eyes fluttered open, feasting themselves on a slim, yet defined and toned figure between her legs, and eyes that took in her glistening porcelain figure as if it were a crowned jewel. Not that it wasn't, but to see him marvel at her without having to prompt him was… embarrassing to say the least.

Aether watched her eyes grow wider as he put his hands on her knees to part her legs wider before taking her hips into his control, raising her waist up to thrust directly into her.

Furina gasped as if she didn’t just watch him reposition her! His hips didn’t go as hard as before but made up for it with speed and control. “Ngh- you have…too much energy!” Furina moaned. Forget the previous round; her body was still sensitive from last night! “Must you be so rough!?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Aether said breathlessly.

“I…”Furina’s eyes couldn’t help but watch the thick and unrelenting cock disappear inside her, only reappear briefly; the shaft was coated in a mixture of their passion that kept it slick and entering repeatedly. The girl sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, seeing how his length only came back out messier after each thrust. She laid her back, her left arm hiding her eyes.

Aether groaned. “Mmm, you’re getting tighter.”

“Silence!” She whined, knowing it was true. “I…I…”

“Swallow your pride~”

“…..Don’t.., don’t stop, please.” She confessed, her voice wavering. Furina dug her fingers into the sheets while her toes curled again. “I don’t wanna get out of this bed! I just want to feel you!” Her face was bright red. Somehow she found the courage to remove her arm, only to not find fierce eyes dominating her, but shut ones on an equally flushed face as Aether’s hips worked overtime. A surprising sight to witness, yet it made Furina all the more needy for his touch. Her eyes shut again and the both of them bathed in the lustful, euphoric sounds of their bodies.

Aether fought so hard not to yell from the way the soaked, warm walls pleaded for him. His thighs were doused in Furina’s arousal as she slammed into them, giving her everything.

Her pussy gladly took the punishment, growing red from the persistent pounding that made her womb ache. Every inch was taken and remembered. Furina feared if this kept up, Aether might reshape her body entirely. That would be unacceptable. To perfectly accommodate her foolish consort’s body would be…

“Aangh~” she sighed. “Make me yours; for all time…” such a maddening idea.

Furina could no longer find words for her pleasure as she felt Aether’s tip rub against womb and deliver a rush of hot seed directly inside it, his hands like a vice on her hips and rigid length buried to the hilt inside her body. The ravishing feeling had a death grip on her body she wouldn’t soon forget. The word maddening didn’t do it justice. Furina let her mind wander off as the sound that finally let her throat could only be described as one thing. Operatic.

xxxxxx

Loud one moment and quiet the next. Furina’s life had been a whirlpool of emotions in what felt like a wild dream. Yet here she was now, humming in a bubble bath as diligent hands scrubbed her scalp before rinsing the soap out with soothing warm water.

“Mmm. I can’t say 500 years was worth this specific moment, but I think it’s pretty close.” She could hear Aether chuckle.

“Unbelievable. I’m glad you’re happy putting me to work.”

“I’ll wash your hair next if you want?”

“It was a little joke Furina.”

“And my offer still stands~” She leaned back against the young man, watching his arms hold her. Furina ran her fingers in between his quietly as the water settled.

“Hey?” She said sheepishly, gathering her thoughts. “Just to set the record straight, I may have lived a long life but I wouldn’t say it’s been the most fulfilling. These past several hours are acts I’ve never done, so…” why did she suddenly feel so anxious saying this to him. “All I’m saying is I didn’t do this on a whim. If that makes sense. I-”

“Furina.” He said softly, turning her head his way to put her nerves to rest with a gentle, comforting kiss. “I know.”

Perhaps she was the one who underestimated him? He could read her just fine. Furina smiled softly, resting her head on his chest. “I couldn’t ask for a person to share the stage with.”

xxxxx

“Two bags. Just as promised. I thought you would’ve picked these up earlier.” Said a vendor, handing off the groceries to Furina.

“Thank you. And I’ll try to next time. I got a little held up.” She laughed off as she began walking. As she made her way home, her feet froze in place as Clorinde and Navia nearly bumped into her as they turned the corner.

“Wow! Sorry about that.” Navia chuckled. Although it went unheard as Furina and Clorinde shared a glance.

“Did you make it home safely last night? No problems?”

“N-None.” Furina wanted to sink to the bottom of the water right now. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing. Next time though, I’d recommend taking care of all personal business in a more…private capacity.”

“I will keep that in mind. Anyways, I should get these home.Toodaloo!” Furina briskly walked off.

Navia couldn’t help but notice the girl’s awkward stride as she left. “Is Furina okay? She seemed a little…”

“Training.” Clorinde said, calmer than ever. “She was by the water training and pushed herself a little too hard. I made sure to keep an eye out is all. She’s probably still tired.”

“Ah. That’s sweet of you. For a moment I thought she still felt terribly awkward around us. Especially me. I do hope that feeling doesn’t last too long. I wouldn’t mind inviting her to tea.”

“You might have a better chance at that when I’m not around.”

“Really?” Navia squints, noticing the lack of eye contact she was receiving. “Don’t tell me you also feel awkward about it; given how you used to work for her and all?”

“…Something like that.”

“Ah ha! All the more reason to put in effort! I’ll try to get in touch sometime in the near future.”

“You really d-” it was too late. Clorinde could see the determination in Navia’s eyes. “I’ll…keep my schedule open.” The woman let out a quiet sigh of defeat. She’d be sure to grab some cake for Furina when the day comes.

[queenburd]

The hand that has been stroking Stanley’s hair has stopped.

Drowsily, he lifts his head from its resting place against the narrator’s chest. He finds the fellow gazing upwards quietly at the floating lights, breathing soft and even. Were it not for the fact his eyes are open, half lidded, one might mistake him for asleep. As it is, he appears quite absent.

Stanley settles back against his chest and curls his legs, letting his knees bump against the body he’s pressed to. It’s a comfortable space. The floor of the starry dome has been covered in carpets and cushions and throw pillows. Under the lights and gentle humming, Stanley can pretend they’re camping outdoors and looking up at the night sky.

Not that he has any frame of reference. But this is nice. It was exceptionally kind, for the narrator to let him have a little mental reprieve in a peaceful spot.

See, Stanley had been feeling rather worn down. It happens from time to time, and he’s ashamed to say that after the excitement of seeing his narrator’s model and doing many activities together (endings, exploration, achievements) he’d finally found himself flagging. He had wanted to push through, worried his weariness might come across as disinterest, but—

“You’re tired? How? No, no,” the fellow had clarified at the dirty look Stanley had shot at him. “What I mean is, in what way? Mentally, physically, emotionally?”

And that had been such a fascinating question. After all, Stanley doesn’t need rest, technically. His body doesn’t find itself fatigued often. But the mind can start to chug, and the temperament can run short of patience. Yet most people normally don’t even think about these aspects of themselves, much less of others.

So, yes, there was something rather beautiful in the narrator asking for clarification. He might have at one point scoffed and stated that Stanley doesn’t need to rest, so to complain was silly. Indeed, he’s done so in the past, when the story was deemed more important.

In any case. Stanley had been mentally and emotionally drained. They had come to this room to let him close his eyes and rest, whether that be with sleep or simply letting his mind wander. Before Stanley had walked up the runway to the center of the room, the narrator had stepped ahead and told him to wait, wait just a moment—and then he’d been greeted with what could only be described as a nest to settle in.

There’d been a passing worry about drawing the narrator out of the inevitable trance he would fall into, but the fellow had been certain it would be easier to actually gain his attention like this. “After all, if you absolutely must, you can just cover my eyes, can’t you? I’m affixed to the model, I won’t be able to drift off, so you’ll be able to keep me present if need be.”

Which is why Stanley is not particularly concerned at this moment about disturbing him. He’s quite comfortable where he is, arm thrown over his friend’s soft middle, head close to the manufactured heartbeat that’s slow and steady. He’s a little sad the petting has stopped, but it’s alright.

He’ll stay a little longer. When he finally thinks it’s time to go, he’ll rouse the narrator with relative ease, and they’ll reset. They can’t stay here forever, Stanley gets fidgety, but he’s content right now. He can let the narrator have this for a bit.

[kybelles]

in which babianos sends his father a very stern letter

read on ao3 | inspired by this post

~

“Why are you not taking me to Isma?”

It’s late. In fact, it’s way past his usual bedtime, and yet Damen is gazing at him sulkily from where he’s curled up in his bed. His favorite blue fish is under his left cheek and his eyes are heavy with sleep. It’s endearing, if he has to admit,  how Damen has dozens of toys by now and yet this old toy who was gifted to him by his older brother is still Damen’s favorite.

He should stop indulging Damen with bedtime stories and toys, probably. His son is four now.

But he’ll never have a child again. He’ll never get to experience these moments once more. 

“Isthima.” Theomedes corrects, lightly tugging on one of Damen’s thick curls. “And I have already told you. You’re too small.”

Damen’s frown intensifies. At moments like these, with squinty eyes and pouty lips, he reminds Theomedes strongly of Egeria and a sharp pain twists on his chest like a knife.

“Kas is going with you.” Damen murmurs.

“Kastor is more than twice your age.” Theomedes replies knowingly. “When you reach his age, we may discuss it again.”

Truthfully, he began taking Kastor with him to political visits by the time his boy was six. But pointing it out now would only fuel Damen’s agitation as he would insist four is practically six.

Damen makes a distressed sound. “That’s too many years!”

“Well then,” Theomedes taps his nose. “I guess you need to sleep a lot and catch up.”

Damen is quiet for a moment and just as Theomedes thinks he’s out arguments, he says, “Baba.” with the sweetest voice.  “Don’t leave me please. I will be soooo alone! ”

Theomedes rubs his face tiredly. “You won’t be alone. You have many people looking after you. And Lady Hypermenestra is here too.”

“Nessa treats me like a baby. ” Damen sniffs with a feisty attitude. His eyes are almost closed now. “She picks me and kisses and kisses and kisses my cheeks.”

At that, Theomedes can’t help but huff in amusement. Indeed; whenever Hypermenestra encounters Damen, she drowns him in kisses and hugs and Damen preens like a kitten under her attention.

“I’ve never heard you complain before.” he says. Damen finally succumbs into sleep and falls unconscious before he can come up with a response. Theoemedes sighs in relief, carefully getting up from the bed to not jostle him.

His Damen is a well-tempered child with a smile always adorning his face; so it’s quite a surprise to see him stand on the deck with the most cross look on his face when it’s time to see them off the next day, his little hand held by Hypermenestra. When Kastor finishes bidding goodbye to his mother and looks down on Damen, the child steps forward and wraps his arms around Kastor’s leg like an octopus.

“Damen, stop being a baby.” Kastor chides. Theoemedes thinks about Damen using the same word last night and wonders if he has picked it up from his brother. “We will only be gone for five nights.”

Damen stubbornly clings on.

Kastor drops a desperate hand to his head and ruffles his hair. “I’ll bring you pretty shells if you are a good boy while we’re away. Deal?  Now, go and bid father goodbye.”

At that, Damen’s whole body goes rigid and before anyone has a chance to stop him, he takes off and runs away from the deck. His nursemaid hastily follows him.

“Well, no kisses for his baba I believe,” Theoemedes says with dejection. Despite knowing Damen is four and therefore prone to tantrums from time to time, he still feels slightly upset that he has to leave without a proper goodbye from him. He leans on and kisses his lover’s cheek. “Take care of him?”

Hypermenestra’s smile is blinding. “Of course, sire.”

Once they set sail, he takes a final look at the land and his heart immediately jumps into his throat at the sight: Damen, with a tear stricken face, running towards the deck this time; as if ready to fling himself at the sea in an attempt to catch them. Just as he opens his mouth to yell in alarm, Hypermenestra snatches him up with all the ease of a skillful mother and clutches him to her chest tightly just as Damen begins sobbing into her shoulder.

Theomedes lets out a deep breath. This boy…

-

“...and I believe we made a similar deal a few years ago with Patrans.” Theomedes is saying to Konstantin. The night is clear and cloudless with the smell of jasmines in the air. Next to him, Kastor is dozing with his head leaning mostly on Theoemedes’s arm. He lets him be; it’s been a long and tiring day and Konstantin isn’t a stranger. “Jase, hand me the scroll.”

Jase nods his head and opens the bag that contains the documents Theomedes asked for. Just as he’s taking it off, another piece of paper falls out of the bag. Jase frowns.

“What is it?”

Jase quickly takes a glance at the paper and when he lifts his gaze, his eyes are almost amused. “Ah, Exalted… I believe this is a note from Prince Damianos.”

Konstantin makes a questioning noise. Theomedes wordlessly reaches a hand and demands to see the note.

It takes him a while to read the whole thing. Damen is a smart child and his tutors always say he’s a good student,  but he’s four after all and his handwriting is atrocious.

Deman- Danio- Damen to his father, greetings. It was so nice of you not take me with you to island. If you refuse to take me with you to Isma I won’t write you a letter or speak to you or wish you a good health. So if you to go Isma I won’t take your hand or kiss you ever again. If you refuse take me, this will happen!

Theomedes reads the note over and over again like the words are going to make sense if he tries harder; and then he starts laughing so loudly that it rings in the air. Kastor wakes up jumping. “What, what is it?”

Theomedes hands him the note, still laughing too hard to form proper sentences. Kastor reads it and then passes it to Konstantin, whose lips curl upwards for a little smile as he reads it as well.

“He’s turning into an incredibly spoiled child.” Kastor comments with a scowl. Theomedes thinks it’s a bit harsh criticism and opens his mouth to tell him so when Konstantin intervenes.

“I believe the young prince is so devoted to you because he feels lonely,” he comments with his usual calm manner. “There are barely any children around his age in the palace so he has to make do with his father and brother.”

Theomedes reaches out and pats his shoulder. “I’m glad you brought it up, old friend. Say, isn’t your youngest boy around my Damen’s age?”

“Nikandros?” Konstantin says with a slight surprise. “He’s two years older than the prince but yes… I believe they may get along.”

“Excellent. Say, what would your lovely wife say about spending the half of the year in Ios?”

Konstantin smiles. “I believe I shall ask and find out, Exalted.”

-

Whatever he’s expecting upon his return, it certainly doesn’t contain Damen running towards him with tears sliding down his face the second he sets his foot on land. Still, he easily scoops his son up. “Hello, cub. What’s the matter?”

“I was sooo mean! ” Damen wails, chest heaving with sobs. “I’m so sorry for my mean letter! Are you angry at me? Do you still love me? Nessa said you of course love me but baba— I’m sorry.” More sobbing.

Theomedes runs his hand through Damen’s hair over and over again until his boy calms down, his heart incredibly fond. Eventually, Damen’s sobs quieten. “There there… you are sorry for the way you behaved?”

“Yes baba.”

“Will you behave the same way the next time Kastor and I need to go on a journey?”

A quiet sniff. “No baba.”

Theomedes hums and hugs him tighter. “Then all is good, my boy. Baba loves you indeed. ”

[teejaystumbles]

Be my Valentine (The Storms of Life short)

Hob sighed as he pulled another colorful card out of a sepia envelope. It was one of several Adam had brought him this morning with a cheeky grin. Hob sat the card on the mantelpiece with the others and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

There was a rustling of cloth behind him as he prepared the tea.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Hob finished pouring the hot water and then turned around to greet Dream. “Hello, love. I wasn’t expecting you. Do you want a cuppa?”

Dream held a greeting card with lace frills and the picture of a couple surrounded by roses and hearts in the air and stared at Hob with a raised eyebrow.

“Hob.” he growled, ignoring the question. Hob sighed and tried for his best innocent smile.

“Well, they’re Valentines. Got them today, since it’s, you know, St. Valentine's Day?”

“And who” Dream stepped closer, looming over Hob, despite them usually being the same size, “would you receive such tokens of affection from?”

Hob looked up at Dream and grinned.

“It seems the unmarried female population of the town has not quite given up on me yet. Since I’m still one of the few bachelors in the area.”

Dream stepped even closer and pressed Hob up against the kitchen counter. “Not to mention I’m probably the most handsome…ah!”

Hob trailed off into a gasp when Dream pushed his knee between his legs and put the card under Hob’s chin to lift it.

“Mmh. I see. So receiving… a dozen of these cards…is normal, is it?”

Hob swallowed against the card. “Well, I don’t think it’s usually this many, but…”

He tried for a soothing tone but Dream’s eyes burned with an inner fire that told Hob he was in for it now.

“And you have not…encouraged this kind of behavior?”

“Not that I’m aware of, no. Dream…”

“Hob.”

“I’m just nice! I’m a nice man! People like me!”

Dream hummed again and then his eyes wandered over the card still pressed under Hob’s chin. Hob added, desperately: “Most of them are even funny, you know? It’s not about romance, it’s just a bit of silliness.”

“Oh?”

With a tiny curl of his lips that suggested amusement he read what was written on the card’s front, his voice dropping several octaves lower. He practically purred:

“‘My heart for you will ever beat… with true affection… pure and sweet.’”

Hob couldn’t help letting a moan escape at Dream’s voice and at the hard press of his thigh against his crotch.

“Silly, indeed.”

“Dream, love, please…” Hob begged and grabbed at Dream’s coat, fingers clutching in black fabric as he was pushed even more upwards on Dream’s thigh.

“Yes?” While his voice betrayed nothing but innocent curiosity Dream lifted Hob up onto the kitchen counter and stepped fully between his legs.

“Kiss me, you bastard,” Hob whined. "Please!"

With a smile his lover leaned slowly closer and asked sweetly: “If I do…will you be mine…Valentine?”

Hob almost resorted to begging but then he decided to not be quite so easy today. Two could play at this game. With effort he pulled back and gave Dream his best pout:

“You haven’t even given me a card…”

Dream’s eyes sparkled and he frowned in affront.

“Hob Gadling. You would withhold your affections because I…did not send you a Valentine’s card?”

“Well…did you bring me a gift, at least?” Hob asked cheekily and batted his eyelashes. Dream looked disgruntled and took a step back before Hob could stop him.

"I…had plans…" Dream sounded chastised and insecure and Hob didn't like it, this was not going the way he had intended. Why did his lover tease him one minute only to become insecure when Hob teased him back? Quickly he grabbed at his coat again and stopped him from stepping further away.

"You did? For…Valentine's Day?"

"Yes. I thought…"

Hob pulled Dream back towards him until he slotted again between his legs and touched his cheek gently. Smiling, he said: "That makes me very happy, dear. I didn't think you had time for or even an interest in a human custom like this." Dream was still frowning a bit.

"A lot of dreamers have recently been occupied with thoughts of this day. I am not ignorant to their waking needs. Quite the opposite. It's blatantly clear in their subconscious that this day is important to lovers."

Hob smiled brightly and smoothed over the frown lines on Dream's forehead with his thumb. "You want me to be your Valentine?"

Dream huffed, cheeks ever so slightly tinted. A rosy glow was peaking out from under his coat. "Of course. I would have no other."

Hob pulled him the rest of the way in and finally kissed him, soft and gently. Against Dream’s lips he murmured: "Me neither. Show me your plans, my Valentine."

Read on AO3

(a short drabble that was supposed to be about dancing - Dream's plans - but turned into something completely different because the ladies in town would have definitely sent Hob valentines cards...)

[f1tyreslightmyfyre]

Y'all are so sweet for all the love on the professor!AU Toto x Christian fic idea - thank you, it really means a lot ☺️❤️

I have been working on it! And with this recent Christian post by @christianspinkyring - just, ughh - Christian in his navy velvet tuxedo jacket with this tuxedoed Toto at the end of term gala for the School of Business donors, sponsors, and award-recipient students is just too good to let go of... so here's some snippets!

[ ... ]

The door to Christian’s office opened without preamble. His brow knit with displeasure – even Max knew to always knock if the door was closed – and he glanced up from his laptop through his horn-rimmed glasses.

A brilliant smile split Dean Stefano Domenicali's face as he entered and brandished a bottle of champagne. “Congratulations, Christian. Your leadership of this department has always been exemplary, and your return ranking as the school’s number one department is long overdue.”

Christian leaned back in his seat, failing to hide the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, that… are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Stefano’s smile turned sly as he worked the cork cage loose. “The term results are in, and the metrics for the Department of Management and Leadership Studies have given you the highest rating.” The cork popped softly under the dean’s skilled hand before he held the bottle out towards Christian. “Well, don’t just sit there,” he chastised lightly. “You should be celebrating.”

Christian bit off a chuckle as he rose to his feet, sliding his glasses off – thankfully he wasn't that old yet. “Thank you, Stefano.” He held out a hand to accept the gently fizzing bottle. “It’s always an honor.” Raising it to his lips, he took a sip and savored the bubbles that burst against his tongue. He hummed his approval. “Thank you, indeed. It’s been a long seven years since I last sampled your champagne selection.”

Stefano’s face turned carefully neutral. “The challenge has been the same every year. And don’t forget that you topped the rankings for four years running before Toto arrived.”

Christian’s throat tightened around another swallow of champagne even as his smile widened. “That’s why it’s even more satisfying to dethrone him now.”

Stefano didn’t quite roll his eyes – he was too professional for that. “Just keep the dramatics in next term's weekly meetings to a minimum, please.”

The door to the men’s washroom opens on a whispering hinge, distracting Christian from the memory and drawing his gaze. An involuntary smirk lifts the corner of his mouth to see the tall, svelte form of none other than Toto Wolff himself. No matter how much the man has burrowed under Christian’s skin in the last seven years, he would have to be blind not to appreciate the devastating cut of Toto’s tuxedo. How it makes his chest look so strong, his waist so lean, and his legs so long.

After all, the only way to beat one’s enemy is to study said enemy.

[ ... ]

Christian scoffs in dismissal, careful to hide his amusement as he adjusts the fall of his navy velvet jacket cuffs. “Oh, don’t be so negative.” He mock-scolds. “Tell me, are you always this kind and encouraging with your students?”

The water turns off, and Toto’s voice carries clearly above the background music. "If you were one of my students, you would know your place."

Christian raises his head, arching a brow in surprise as he finishes straightening a cufflink. He turns towards Toto, gaze narrowing with affront as the other man reaches for a crisply folded towel, . "And just, uh… where is that exactly?"

Toto’s dark eyes gleam under the dim, golden lighting. "With your mouth closed and your ears open,” he says, drying his hands. “Ready to listen and not to speak. Maybe then, you might actually learn something."

The corner of Christian’s mouth lifts. "You know, I think you're the only person who can make active listening sound like sexual harassment."

Fire sparks in Toto's gaze as he stills, and a thrill of victory runs through Christian. Nothing gives him greater satisfaction than winding up his rival. Short of beating him at his own game, at least.

Toto tilts his head sharply, voice dropping to a rich rumble. "If you want to start those petty war games with me, then you only discredit yourself." He steps closer, leveraging his superior height but Christian refuses to ever let this man intimidate him. "If you want to beat me so bad, beat me in the classroom, not whining and scheming behind closed office doors."

[ ... ]

[lulutaylorsimaginarium]

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words: 1,456

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

THE CHAIN MASTERLIST

Part Twelve

Gabby woke up at three o'clock in the morning dazed and a little too out of it. She looked to the end of her bed to see a foot resting on the mattress. It took a few seconds for her brain to catch up and confirm that it was indeed someone’s leg. She looked to her left to see Santiago sleeping in a tub chair that he dragged from the corner of the room.

She squeezed his leg “Pope?”

“Mmm”

“What are you doing?”

“You were sleepwalking. Didn’t want you to fall down the stairs”

“So you’re watching me sleep?”

“From behind my eyelids, sure”

Gabby chuckled and pulled at his arm, pulling him on to the bed

“Get up here”

“Yeah?”

“We’re both adults” she whispered as he got under the covered and got comfortable “Better then the chair?”

“Oh yeah”

“How long have you been here anyhow?”

He sat up and looked over at the alarm clock over on her side of the bed.

“About two hours”

“Duddddeeee, that’s creepy” she laughed before he looked down at her and they both realized how close they were. Even in a dark room with only the moonlight streaming through the windows Santiago could see her batting her eyelids and holding her breath.

“Don’t call me dude” he chuckled “Creepy or caring?”

“Bit of both”

“Yet you let me into your bed”

“Believe or not. You are not the worst person who’s been in here”

“I’d believe it” he chuckled “You seem like the bring-the-stray-home-and-fall-in-love-with-it type”

“That’s actually scary accurate”

“Good night Ms Gabby”

“Good morning”

She heard him mutter ‘smartass’ under his breath before she fell back to sleep.

#

Gabby woke up hotter than she did normally, especially since it was raining outside. She groaned softly and squeezed her eyes shut tight before giving up and gave into the idea of waking up. She was sleeping on Santiago’s shoulder with her hand over his heart. She felt him scratch her head slowly, playfully. Gabby looked up at him.

“How long have you been up?”

“A little while”

She moved up the bed but not quite off Santiago, he noticed. Boy, did he notice. Just like he noticed the smell of her body wash, her shampoo, her weight on his and the way her voice was raspier in the morning. He had never been more awake in all his life.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You’re dead on your feet, Kid”

“I’m okay. I promise”

“You have to sleep today”

“No, I have to cook you guys breakfast and I have to double check that the storm shelter is waterproof because if that money gets wet. We’re fucked. Then I have to think about dinner. Then….”

He cut her off by kissing her quickly. Gabby gasped surprised as he rolled her on her back not breaking that kiss for a second.

All the times he had thought about kissing her. Santiago imagined it would have been a tug of war. A fight for domination. They fought about everything else, why would this be any different?

But it was different.

Maybe it was because she was tired. Maybe it was because it was the morning but she gave him total control and he took it.

Days, weeks, even years of fighting one another. Annoying one another and this was what it came down too.

He felt her hands on his back before either of them realized he had put both her hands over her head and that’s the way they stayed for god knew how long and that’s the way that she thought they would stay until he stopped and rested his forehead on hers before pulling back slightly before attacking her neck

“I can’t do this worrying about the knuckleheads hearing us downstairs”

“I’m really not that loud”

Santiago looked up at her and playfully raised his eyebrow

“That sounds like a challenge”

“Take it any way you want but its true”

He kissed her throat one last time before moving beside her “Raincheck”

“That’s what they all say” she teased before getting out from the covers and making her way around the room.  

“Trust me, I mean it”

She changed her top to a cotton razorback and pulled her unbrushed hair into a messy bun before looking back at him in the mirror

“What?”

“Just enjoying the view”

She pulled an old pair of jeans on before jumping up and down to get them up over her butt and zipping them up.

“Take a picture why don’t cha” she said throwing a sock at him. Only because that was the only thing she could grab to throw at him

“Don’t need too. Memory of an elephant”

He watched her spray perfume into the air and twirled around in it over dramatically just because he was watching. Gabby reached for the door handle before looking back at him

“Get out of my bed”

“Make me”

“Do you need a few minutes?” she teased “Do you need some unsexy thoughts?”

“That would be great”

“You’re grandparents fucking”

“Ugh”

He listened to her laugh down the hallway.

As she made her way down the stairs she found Frankie and Benny in her kitchen.

“What are you guys doing?”

“HEY!!!” the both yelled back

Frankie met her at the foot of the stairs with a hot cup of coffee and a cuddle.

“We’re cooking you breakfast” Benny called out happily “Or we’re trying too”

“We’ll clean when we’re done” Frankie whispered to her when she saw the state of the kitchen

“Thank you” she whispered back

“Go sit at the table”

She sat on the side facing the kitchen because there was nothing like breakfast and a show. She sat with her knees to her chest smirking over her coffee cup watching the muppet show.

Santiago made his way down the stairs a short time later and didn’t get the same treatment as she had. He had to get his own coffee.

“What’s happening ladies?”

“You wanna help out, jack ass?” Benny shot back

“Sure. I’ve worked up an appetite”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head to herself. Two of the guys didn’t understand why, but one did.

#

Frankie sat on the porch with his coat buttoned up and collar popped. He watched as Santiago and Gabby ran out of the storm shelter and back to the house. There had been a feel in the place today that hadn’t been there the day before. He had his suspicions but it wasn’t until this moment that he knew it was true.

Gabby went straight into the house and Santiago stayed when he saw the look on Frankie’s face

“What?”

“You two slept together”

“No, Frank we didn’t”

“Bullshit. I heard you go into her room last night. I heard you walking around”

“She’s been sleepwalking”

Frankie sat forward in his seat with his hand balled up resting on his forehead

“Since when?”

“As far as I know. Guyana”

“God damn it, Pope”

“She made me promise not to say anything”

“Since when do you two keep each others secrets?”

 As if she knew they were talking about her, Gabby appeared on the porch. She looked at Frankie confused

“What?”

“You’ve been sleeping walking?”

She looked over at Santiago wide eyed “Duuuuuudddde”

“Don’t call me dude”

“Gabriella, answer me”

“Did you just use your dad voice on me?”

“Gabby!!”

“Ugh” she sighed “It’s not a big deal”

“Don’t give me that shit. I was there the last time this happened, Gabby”

“Baby” she said softly, which oddly sparked a fire in Santiago that had never been there before the countless times he had heard Gabby call Frankie that.

“How long?”

“The farm, I think”

“Was it the club? The cop? What?”

“Frank, you have to calm down” Santiago told him

“You’re regressing. I knew I shouldn’t called you”

“Baby, I’m not regressing. I’m stressed. We’ve all been running on adrenaline and hope for days now. I’ve been in an office for so long that my body doesn’t know how to deal with it anymore. A few days of down time here and some actual sleep. I’ll be back to my annoying self. Okay?”

“Gabby”

“Trust me, Frankie. I’m okay” she chuckled not quite believing it but needing him too.

Frankie nodded his head, gave her a hug and walked back inside. Santiago sidled up to Gabby wrapping his arm around her waist

“You know what is a good stress relief?”

“I have an idea, yes”

“For your health and all”

“Storm shelter?”

“Yep”

They both took off down the stairs and across the grass before making sure the shelter door was locked once they were inside.

[nerdieforpedro]

I sure know how to pick 'em

Chapter three of "Do we know how to love?"

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x Nadia Thomas (plus size OFC)

This fanfiction is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Do we know how to love series list

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: A first date turns into something else. Not all vibrations are good ones as Nadia finds out and it leads Frankie to have growing concerns.

Warnings: toxic relationship, implied sexual activity, brief mention of drugs, Nadia is messy lady

Notes: I haven't been inspired to write for the series for quite awhile so I'm happy to out another chapter. I have it mapped out mostly. These two are...well if I was going to be angsty with anyone it would be my boy Fish. He gives me so much to work with so how can I not?

Eddie was calling Nadia before her date. She did not pick up and put her phone on vibrate. Fuck him trying now that she’s said something. It’s her night tonight. Her plan was to get laid, and if he was nice, it was a bonus. Frankie seemed so sweet with his daughter, she was clearly a daddy’s girl and that made the nurse smile. She looked over herself, she wore her favorite black dress that had kimono sleeves, a deep plunging neckline exposing her ample breasts and the hem of the dress hit the tops of her knees, that way when she sat down it would go to midthigh. Nadia knew she looked beautiful, she just felt nervous. Eddie’s been the only man for the last two and a half years, now she actually had a date, with a handsome man at that. Nadia picked up her red clutch wallet and worked her hand through the wristlet, and grabbed her matching candy red shoes, about three inches, any taller and it would be a guaranteed fall. In these she could halfway manage short distances. Headlights were seen as she headed down the stairs and before she could pop her heels on, the doorbell rang. Well, he showed up so that’s a very good sign. A smile crept along her face as she opened the door, it left her mind that she wasn’t wearing shoes.

“Hi Frankie. Funny meeting you here.” Nadia attempted a corny joke. Frankie chuckled and ran a hand through his numerous curls. He didn’t have the hat on and bless the Lord he isn’t bald, the man had a full head of chocolate curls.

“A coincidence indeed. Looks like I found the beautiful woman I’m supposed to take to dinner.” Frankie grinned and took her hand, but looked down, stopping Nadia from stepping outside. “You’re missing something cariño (dear).” His grin grew wider as Nadia’s cheeks flushed, her shoes, of course. 

“Come on in Frankie, I won’t be but a minute.” She replied and set her wristlet down on a small table near the front door to grab her shoes. She had dropped them near the stairs, plopping down the third stair up, she was putting her left shoe on when Frankie bent down in front of her.

“Need some help?” He asked, he held his hands above her left leg, but didn’t touch her yet. Nodding, he then placed his palm on the back of her calf and lifted her leg as she bent her knee, angling her foot to slip her shoe on. Nadia bit the inside of her mouth.

“Frankie, we don’t have to go to dinner.” The pilot’s eyes widened; they were supposed to go on a date, right? What does she mean? He set her left leg down and tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean? I have a reservation…” Nadia’s right foot trailed up Morales’ thigh and pressed against his crotch. A darkness peppered her eyes as she set her hands on her thighs, raising the hem of her dress to expose more of her thighs.

“As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to take a raincheck on dinner. I think we should indulge other appetites.” She put her right leg down and leaned forward, her fingers dancing over Frankie’s patchy beard. “Are you alright with it Frankie?” The pilot didn’t speak, he chose to place his forearms under her thighs and lifted Nadia up, she quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he carried her up the stairs. When Frankie did speak, he only had one question for her, 

“Where’s your bedroom hermosa (gorgeous)?”

—----------------------------------------------------------------

Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales had become a better man over the years. It began with the birth of his daughter and being a single father. It was required of him to be better for his little corázon (heart). That meant getting off the coke, getting a stable job and keeping it, which he did successfully. Morales learned from his meetings that he needed to channel the same fervor he sought drugs out with into something else, he thought work and his daughter would be enough, but it wasn’t. He tried focusing on different models of planes, flight paths but it would depress him rather than help because he couldn’t fly, not yet. 

What he could do was learn what women want.

Making different women climax was no problem for Morales. He considered each woman a different puzzle to solve, to focus on, to learn. It was enjoyable for both parties involved for a time. His issue came when he wanted more from them: companionship and commitment. The former pilot had a knack for finding women who were open to sex but not a relationship or as Frankie had found out a few times, they were already in one.

There hadn’t been any indicators to Frankie that Nadia was anything other than single. He was also aware he hadn’t asked. Waking up in her bed, the sun met his eyes and he squinted. When he was able to focus, he looked down to see Nadia’s sleeping face on his chest. He smiled remembering last night, how she’d been very forthcoming with her wants. She managed to surprise Frankie by slipping right out of her dress as soon he’d set her down and told him to come. That he did and they managed three rounds before passing out. She turned a switch in him where he didn’t mind being told what to do, where to suck, where to lick where to spread his climax. That reminded him of the red marks she’d made on his chest and he chuckled proudly. 

A buzz went off, and Frankie reached for it instinctively as his phone was always on vibrate. His friend Benny had shown him how to put the ringer on but it went off during one of his daughter’s parent-teacher conferences so he turned the damn thing back off. Turns out it was not his phone but Nadia’s and there’s an ‘Eddie’ calling. When the call went to voicemail, Frankie saw that Eddie had called multiple times. The pilot wondered if it was happening again, was he the other man again? He’s sick of it. Looking away from the phone, he peered down at the sleeping woman. His face softened slightly as she stirred and greeted him with a muffled ‘morning’ before lifting her head. He held her phone up,

“Morning Nadia. Who’s Eddie?”

Her throat was dry and she felt sore in the best way. It’s the best morning she’s had in years. Waking up to a man as handsome as Frankie. Last night she convinced herself that it was fine to try different positions and actually for what she wanted. She surprised herself when she hovered above Frankie’s face, his nose tickling her small sensitive bud as it felt like he was sucking her soul out of her.

Now she’s looking at the name of the man who always seems to stop her. Stop her from enjoying herself. Stop her from exploring parts of herself. Stop her from being herself. The nurse sat up and placed a hand on Frankie’s chest, keeping her eyes focused on his. The face that had made her cry with pleasure last night, that was so expressive, was now fixed and hard. Dammit Eddie.

“That’s my ex-boyfriend. He keeps calling me. As you can see I haven’t answered.” It was the truth. He didn’t need to hear that it was just yesterday. Frankie sighed and handed her the phone. He scooted back to sit against the headboard. 

“Nadia. You’re…well last night was incredible, and I do want to get to know you, but I’m not willing to be on the side. You’re not married or engaged are you?” He crossed his arms, making a barrier between the two. Nadia moved closer but didn’t touch Frankie.

“I was engaged to him. It wasn’t going to work out between us. I told him I couldn’t be with him anymore.” She then touched his shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

“You’re not going to scratch me again are you?” Frankie asked, raising an eyebrow. Nadia smiled and poked his nose.

“Not unless you’re going to give me reason to, which I certainly wouldn’t mind.” She grinned and kissed his cheek. “We may want to eat first though, I’m a bit hungry.”

“Me too cariño. We’ll talk over breakfast. We ordering or cooking?” Frankie asked. His head turned toward the vibrating phone, the man was calling again. There’s more going on here than she’s telling him, that much he can tell, but they’ve just slept together so he may not need to know. He wants to and Frankie knows when he finds someone he likes he falls hard. 

“Cooking. Let me freshen up and put some clothes on and I’ll meet you downstairs.” Nadia smiles and hops out of bed. She sets the vibrating phone on the nightstand and enters the bathroom. 

Frankie wonders if she’s using her nonchalance to mask her emotions or if she’s really that blasé about that man blowing up her phone like that. What has he gotten himself into this time?

The Catfish Bowl 🐟: @yorksgirl @megamindsecretlair @guelyury @innerpersonunknown @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @gwendibleywrites @legendary-pink-dot @titlee78

[skycas1noregular]

Kinktober/Smuttober 17th: Siglai (fantasies, masturbation, obsession)

(🔞NSFW)

Something a bit different, and that is first POV (in this case Nikolai's) that I don't write often. But obsessed Nikolai and his thoughts are worth writing down this way (and I know I'm pretty late on Kinktober, but at least it's here)

I miss you. I miss you so damn much. Not just your mentality and attitude that changed for the worse, not just your body that you modified with the money you gained by showing it, not just you being humble and reasonable, but your actions, your way of sucking my cock, your pussy that would clench any time I accidentally went deeper than you could handle.

I miss that side of you that you don’t have anymore. Yet, I do have that exact version of you in the corner of my room that is full of photos we had taken while doing the most unholy things imaginable. Out of a few where you ride, where I’m balls deep inside you, where you’re bent over the counter with legs spread open for me, there is this specific one that gets me hard every time I see it (which is quite often, considering that it’s the biggest one on my wall and is always in first focus).

That being the one where your lips are wrapped around my cock. Sigma, you have no idea, no idea of what that photo makes me want to do to you. You have no idea how hard it is to control myself when I think about it.

You’re already well aware that I couldn’t care less about people’s opinions, less alone care for being horny in public and taking care of it despite people watching. Jail I have been might not be as public, but I did get a few questionable looks once I spilled all that useless cum all over my uniform. It should have been all over your face.

I wish you stayed that way with me. I wish that the praise kink you had never left our bedroom. I hate anyone who flattered you too much for my liking, the same as I hate you for indulging with those people. I could give you much more praise, whisper in your ear, and tell you how much you mean to me, yet you chose those men in the comments under your posts on social media. You lost me because of some fucking creeps that you enjoy to thirst over you. They don’t know you as I do, yet you made it so easy by revealing absolutely everything.

I could say I had a pretty good effect on you, but damn, Sig, why was me going to jail the drop that overflowed the cup? I thought you were smarter than that. It appears you’re not. I promise you that you have much more stalkers. I wasn’t, and I am not the only one. But I’ll give myself credit as the only one who genuinely cares. You’re lucky they caught me. Though, you won’t escape me catching you.

If the others knew what I had going on in my mind and on this wall dedicated to you, they would surely be coming untouched by the sight of your lips around it, your eyes slightly watery, and your hair being held by my hand, pushing it back just to look at you, and perhaps to make it easier for you. Even that red lights we turned on that night added to the atmosphere.

I remember it quite well. I remember how you lusted over me, dropped on your knees, so perfect and ready to take me. I remember that bra of yours that you threw in the audience the first chance you got after you left me. It should have been thrown at my face. Should have been pushed to the edge of the bed; should have fallen over it, and be forgotten like every time we indulged in such filthy acts.

But that bra isn’t what I am interested in. It would be such a bummer if I didn’t have a few separate photos of your tits. It was indeed a good decision to print them out and tape them all over. I can mix, imagine you naked instead of covered with that useless lace.

And I do mix them. I do imagine doing things to you that you would not like after all this shit that happened. Do I care, though? God no. You asked for it by showing your body on full display. You provoked me. I have seen you laugh at the camera every time your fans compliment you. To be honest with you, it felt as if you were laughing right at my face, telling me how fucking awful I am for being jealous of you wearing tight and revealing clothes and engaging in conversations with people who were obviously flirting with you right in front of my eyes.

But let me be honest once again; when I reserve time for you this way, I put those thoughts aside and focus solely on you. You deserve it once in a while, and I deserve it at any time of the day or night. So, I will treat myself and indulge in fantasies that I’m working on to become reality.

Whole work (including other/first chapter) on my AO3:

[mirage-05]

Boruto: Happuden (Leaf Chronicles) - Chapter 1

Rumors about rebels start to rise in every corner of the ninja world. Panic, betrayal and uncertainty cause the era of peace to shake right under the feet of its founder: the Seventh Hokage, Naruto Uzumaki. Sides must be taken, decisions must be made. Will this be the end of the Ninja World? (First Sequel to Boruto: Sacrifices)

Well... hello again dear readers XD

Today is the day we start a new story for our Boruto. Some of you guys might (hopefully) remember me from the previous story, Boruto: Sacrifices, which is re-written and resides in the Naruto tag. For my new readers as well as the old (because stuff has changed), I'd advise you guys to emplease/em go and read it first, otherwise you are likely to get confused by the turn of events here.

Me and my friend Daniela would like to wish you a pleasant read x3

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Boruto: Naruto Next Generations and any of the canon information from these series. The original characters you will encounter are shared by me and my two friends.

Link to our previous story, Boruto: Sacrifices - https://www.tumblr.com/eleanor-devil/646313917094805504/boruto-sacrifices-remade-prologue

...

Suffice it to say that every new day was a challenge in the hideout of the legendary snake sannin.

Anyone who was looking from the outside would find it peculiar that the blue haired boy was crouching behind an armchair and speaking to… well, seemingly nothing but a puddle on the ground. Anyone who, at least, wasn’t aware of this particular kekkei genkai of the Mist’s Hozuki clan, which had manifested itself in this handful little one-and-a-half year old.

“Miu-chan… you know your parents are worried sick by now.” Mitsuki tried to reason while he felt a sweatdrop down his cheek, but honestly found the situation a little amusing. 

He hadn’t stepped foot into the hideout for five minutes before he heard a loud wail and then Suigetsu’s panicked cry. This had been a constant dynamic in the father and daughter’s relationship for as long as Miu turned a year old - they’ve been constantly bickering with each other, over everything. Karin’s affection, the last candy on the table, the Hozuki’s huge sword (which was now put away safely after Karin freaked out one too many times about the idea of her daughter near the blade)... And today it was because the little girl wanted to play with onii-chan when he had only come for a quick check-up and had to head back to Konoha soon thereafter.

“I don’t wanna.” came the stubborn, childish voice as two bright red eyes stared out of the puddle. 

The result? Having successfully inherited the liquefaction technique of the Hozuki clan, Miu had cried herself into this small puddle - quite literally. And she has refused to turn back.

“I’m sorry I’m not able to play with you,” Mitsuki said seriously, knowing full well from experience how to talk to children who are upset. “But that won’t be for too long, okay? I will just see Orochimaru-sama and then come back to you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Okay…” It took the toddler longer than it normally would, but soon enough in the place of the puddle stood a white haired girl. She waddled towards Mitsuki, not quite steady on her chubby legs yet, and the boy held out his arms to hold her, a knowing smile on his face. “You want to escort me?”

In response, Miu only held more firmly on his hand.

…

Indeed, it was mesmerizing for the young boy as they walked down the long corridors just how many changes the hideout went through. And his father by extension.

The redhead in the lab turned at the sound of the door opening, her face lighting up with a beam upon seeing him. “I see that you’re doing good, Mitsuki.”

“Izumi-san,” the boy replied politely.

His father didn’t give any acknowledgement to the small interaction between them. Instead of the cold anger he had always resorted towards her in her presence, he had opted for indifference. Mitsuki didn’t know how he felt about this - because it was partly his fault that Orochimaru had to force himself to adjust to this new situation. It was due to his constant invitations that the Kiri kunoichi got to spend more and more time here lately.

“If you’re ready we should begin.” The sannin said without turning to them, his voice emotionless - just the professional tone of the scientist he is. Mitsuki didn’t make any more comments as he obeyed his father and hopped onto the gurney. 

It was a routine check, by now all three of them had gotten used to it. It provided only a little discomfort for him as Mitsuki’s heart problem was still consistent, but it was getting more and more adaptable in the past year.

Part of the discomfort also stemmed from the fact that… the results of today’s test were going to determine a very important milestone in the boy’s life. The Chuunin exams were fast approaching… and while he already had his name jotted down by the approval of both Konohamaru-sensei and Sakura-sensei, his father had expressed that he was not willing to give the clear for Mitsuki unless he did all the necessary controls himself.

So the more Orochimaru kept his silence, ignoring the redhead kunoichi who was gazing over his shoulder at the results, the more uneasy the boy became. Surely… surely if there really was a problem, Sakura-san would’ve noticed it too? He came too far since that incident, now an A-rank mission in his book, for his hopes to get crushed now.

Finally, finally the sannin raised his head to look at him too. “It would seem I have no reason to doubt your sensei’s judgement.”

His father usually wasn’t one to succumb to mind games, but even though the meaning was quite clear, Mitsuki’s mind still went blank for a moment. “So… you mean-”

“You are good to participate in the exams!” Izumi clarified cheerfully. “Way to go Mitsuki, I can’t wait to watch you!”

The boy couldn’t help it. Orochimaru was still highly cautious in tolerating shows of affection, especially in front of strangers. So Mitsuki leapt forward and embraced the young woman in his unstoppable joy.

Still, momentarily as it was… he saw the sannin’s eyes move to the kunoichi, an unfathomable emotion flickering briefly in them. If Mitsuki didn’t know better, he would’ve almost thought… 

The boy shook his head as he broke the hug apart. No, he did know better.

…

He was still thinking about that look as Mitsuki made his way out of the hideout to meet Log, many hours later seeing that Miu had absolutely refused to let him go until she was so exhausted that she herself fell asleep in her onii-chan’s arms.

All until now Mitsuki was rather excited to share the news with his brother… but seeing his face again only served to trigger the feeling of unease and curiosity. It had been a year and things still did not patch up between his father and Log, with neither party budging or trying to contact the other. Mitsuki knew better than to intervene - he had learned that much in the passing time. But they were both important parts of his life and it pained the young boy to see the lengths of which they go to ignore each other.

“Good job, Mitsuki,” Log said with a genuine smile, clasping a hand on his shoulder. Time spent with his best friends (after Boruto and Sarada got over the initial shock) had started to affect the young man - the small changes in his behavior was noticeable. And in spite of himself, the teenager couldn’t help but think that it was for his brother’s better interest. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks,” Mitsuki replied with a grin. “Any news from Konoha?”

“Nope.” Log flicked his phone towards the younger boy. Mitsuki had made it a point to leave it with Log whenever they visited the hideout… otherwise there would be no relief from Boruto’s endless calls and messages. “The blondie called once and left a few messages but I didn’t read them.”

The genin rolled his eyes and had just flipped the phone open when it started to ring. He answered the call with a barely suppressed sigh. “Yeah Boruto, I’m still fine, nothing bad happe-”

Boruto’s panicked, high-pitched voice cut into his words then. “Mitsuki… p-please, you need to come quick… It’s mom, w-we’re in the hospital.”