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221bshrlocked · 1 day ago

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Let All My Love Keep Silence

Pairing: Vampire Pero Tovar x Witch Fem!Reader

Words: 21,640

Warning: Angst to Fluff to Smut. Mutual Pining. Angst to Smut to Angst to Sort of Fluff. Forbidden Love!! Bath sharing-ish. Dirty/Sweet Talk. Minor Hair-Pulling. Oral (female and male receiving). Creampie. Fluid Exchange Kink. Mentions of Blood in a sexual way (go away if you don't like that). Penetrative, Unprotected Sex. Creampie. Reader and Tovar getting off on the idea of ruining each other's biology because of their coupling.

Summary: When two strangers meet in the mystical land of Egypt, they are transported back to a moment filled with nothing but hurt and pain. Neither wishes to accompany the other, but duty requires both of them to travel together, and on occassion, fight alongside each other. A string of curious events continues to befall the company, and a staggering revelation leads them to think they may have met long before that chance gathering in the qahwa weeks prior. And an even more shocking confession brings the once sworn enemies together...or perhaps, finally returns them to one another.

A/N: This is for the lovely @artemiseamoon who's also taking part in the @pedrostories Secret Santa Event and whom I have to thank for being so very patient with me. I hope you like this babes, I've included what I thought would be a good mixture of the prompts you gave me so I hope you enjoy reading this. I apologize profusely that this is a few days late, but I wanted it to be as close to perfection as possible!! Side note, this is set sometime in 15th century Egypt. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :D

“All your fury is to hide a fragile heart.” —Ghassan Kanafani September 17th, 1422

There was a strange air about the tavern tonight, one that made it rather difficult to focus on the reason behind your visit to this specific village. No sooner than you had walked in did you notice the shadows flickering around a particularly secluded corner within the busy establishment. And although the drunken laughter and obnoxious swearing filled the inn, you could not help but dwell on the ominous silence that danced along the walls of said corner as you slowly sat down and studied the patrons within the room. It was almost instantaneous, the way your eyes met his through the vigorous crowd, and you knew immediately that the tempest storming in those dark eyes were but a mere reflection of the curiosity and caution swimming in your own.

But it was not curiosity alone that made him stand from his seat and approach you. No, it was the unspoken understanding of the lives you led that forced him to make his way to you with a purposeful grace unlike any you have ever seen. You arched an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of your lips as he took a seat opposite of you. His fingers tapped a slow rhythm on the wooden table’s surface, a sign of the ancient wariness that has passed between your kind and his own for centuries. Silence stretched between your cold smirk and his furrowed, nearly angry eyebrows, thickening the tension and the weight of history you were sure would make things more complicated—on your end at least.

Yet beneath the surface of unpleasant memories, you could recognize a flicker of something else—a shared, albeit grudging respect of the mutual abilities and prowess you both shared, however different they were. Your gaze was unwavering,

You didn’t dare blink, afraid the momentary blindness would bring about your demise. So sure that he would want to rip your neck to pieces, your eyes widen in horror when he holds his hand out for you to take. You look between him and his limb, unsure of what game he was wanting to play with you. Not wanting to show him any weakness, you smile cautiously at him as you extend your own, the sudden touch of his skin making you flinch as unfamiliar memories flood your mind’s eye. You cannot let go of his hand, not because you do not want to, but because the grip he has on your palm tightens as similar, unfamiliar images crash into him. You both look at each other, unsure whether you are both seeing, and experiencing, the same painful evocations.

It lasts for longer than you care to admit, and when his hold finally loosens, you let go and return your back to rest, unable to hold back from clutching at your chest when you feel an invisible bolt of lightning strike through you. You gaze up into his eyes then, and find his grimace deeper, except it is not one of anger but contempt. Whatever he has seen of you was far from favorable, and you knew he presumed similarly.

“What brings you here?” His voice is low, the sneer on his expression reminding you of something from a long time ago, a past life perhaps. You shake your head, wanting to rid yourself of whatever was attempting to come to the forefront of your mind. There were matters more important.

“Do not flatter yourself. I did not come for you, but for a posting.” You cross your arms, watching him as he looks to the side, perhaps wondering if there were more of you around.

“I am alone.” You are not sure what pushes you to tell him such a dangerous fact, but you watch as his shoulders visibly relax at your admission. He returns his gaze to you, and if you didn’t know better, you would think his eyes could see right through you.

“That makes two of us bruja.” He responds in kind, and you wish you weren’t so obvious in your own inquiries.

“A Spaniard in Cairo? Are you here for business or pleasure?” The question is not to his liking, and you chuckle at the prospect of this man thinking that you weren’t knowledgeable enough to place his mother tongue, let alone his accent.

“Business, though pleasure is not too far.” It’s menacing, the way his smile stretches so easily and reveals his sharp cuspids. You are aware he is purposeful in his warning, and if you were wiser, you would have turned away from him, perhaps even stood up and walked out of the qahwa. But you narrow your eyes at him, challenging him without thinking of the consequences. The serenity that befalls him is irritating and you nearly comment on his surly behavior when a man interrupts the two of you and pushes your ‘companion’ aside.

“I leave you for a few minutes and you find yourself a lovely woman to terrorize. When will you ever learn Tovar?” The name makes you flinch. You swear you have heard it before, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the man in front of you. Except, he misunderstands your response for something else, and you know instantly why the smile drops instantly. You should not intimidate him more, but you choose to, wanting to relay a message of pure, unadulterated hatred to him.

Reaching out, you shake Tovar’s friend’s hand, introducing yourself and letting him know that Tovar was far from threatening.

“It is lovely to meet you, lass. My name is William Garin, and this ray of sunshine is my old friend, Pero Tovar.” As soon as Tovar’s full name is known to you, you sit back and giggle as anger radiates off of him.

“It’s a pleasure William, and…Tovar.” You smirk at him, not bothering to react to Tovar as he stands aggressively and walks away from your table.

“Maybe the coffee didn’t agree with him.” You comment in passing, shrugging your shoulders when William apologizes for his friend and asks to buy you another drink.

“That is thoughtful of you, but I think I have had enough for the night. Perhaps you could buy one for your friend?” You ask in passing, your eyes never once leaving the entrance of the establishment.

“I would but unlike me, the man refuses to drink. Come to think of it, I rarely see him consume anything other than that damned drink he always carries on him.” You scrunch your nose at the fact, wondering whether William knows the true nature of his friend.

“Nevermind him. What is a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” He leans over, smiling devilishly at you when you mirror him and push into his space.

“I’m flattered William, I really am. But there is more to me than meets the eye.” You swirl around the drink in your hand, tilting your head to the side when you notice Tovar entering the qahwa once more. He doesn’t join you though, and you suspect it is because you now have his name.

“I can see that, love.” William’s smile drops and you watch as he points down to the several daggers he can see attached to the inside of your robes. You lean away from him and purse your lips, letting him know that you should have seen his plan coming.

“What do you want with Tovar?” His voice should be menacing, but you choose not to laugh at him out of respect. Unlike his friend, the man was genuinely being protective, and you admire that about him. You have always admired that about humans.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I am not here for him but for a proposition.” You don’t bother elaborating as you take out a piece of paper and slide it across the table. William reads it slowly, giving it back to you and looking behind him to see if you had any company.

“As I told your friend, I am here alone. I work alone, usually.” You finish your drink and leave a few coins on the table, enough for William to notice that you are covering his payment as well.

“You are aware this commission is for a group of mercenaries?” He asks, and you nod instantly, folding the paper and pushing it back into your pocket.

“Yes, I am. I may prefer to work alone but circumstances led me here and I- I find myself wanting to take part in this…expedition.” You do not elaborate, not wanting to raise any flags for William as to what you are. Thankfully, he takes your word and refrains from inquiring further about the subject.

“Have the two of you met before?” The question catches you off guard, and you turn to face Tovar, wondering the same thing as you find his eyes already gazing upon you.

“I would remember if I have, but no. I- I have not met him before.” You blink away the faint memories from earlier haunting you once more, returning your attention to William and offering him a friendly smile.

“Hmm, something tells me things did not get off on a good start for either of you.” William says as he glances at his friend, raising his drink in an attempt to persuade him to join the two of you, but to his disappointment, Tovar turns away and glues his focus on the wall.

“I have known him for years, and I assure you, he is never so hostile to someone he has just made an acquaintance of.” There is a warning laced between those words, and you nod in affirmation, not wanting to have two men in the company against you.

“I understand. I must confess, I am not often met with kindness wherever I go…so I fear there is some effect I am having on him. I assure you, however, it is not my intention to anger. I merely wish to…let him know he should steer clear of me as I will of him.” Again, you are unsure why you confess such a sentiment to William and it must not be what he expects to hear from you because he raises a curious eyebrow before laughing out loud. You’re thrown back by the reaction but you say nothing as William stands to his height and nods in appreciation.

“In that case, lass…should he bother you, do not hesitate to come for my aid.” He silently thanks you for the drink as he finishes it quickly before placing it down on the table. You eye the goblet for a few seconds, hating that he placed it in front of you…and Tovar.

“That will not be needed, but thank you for the offer. I will keep it in mind.” You retract your hands from the table, placing them on your lap to avoid any misunderstandings with Tovar.

“See you tomorrow at the port.” He calls after you as he leaves, patting Tovar on the back twice on his way to the stairs. Wonderful, they were staying in the inn as well. You rub your temple harshly, wondering why those visions plagued you for months on end, only to bring you to such a man.

A vampire of all creatures.

Could he not, at the very least, be a lycan?

Your racing thoughts are interrupted by none other than the man himself, and you ground yourself before you meet his gaze once more. He wastes no time before he grabs William’s drinking cup and pulls it out of reach.

“You need not worry, I am not interested in him. Or you!” You blink tiredly, knowing that your meeting was due to a mission and not something else.

“That is hard to believe, maga, when you explicitly asked for my name.” His expression is hard, and you swear you see the whites of his eyes turn a deep shade of gold for a moment, but you know he would never act irrationally in such a crowded place.

“If you recall, nightwalker, I did not ask for your name. It was given to me freely by your friend, whom I suspect, does not know of your true nature, or else he would have refrained from giving me both his name and yours.” You hiss at him, your behavior making him frown harshly and clench his jaw tightly.”

“I suspect you heard everything, and against my better judgment, I will put your mind to rest. You seem older than others of your kind I have met before, so you know it is not possible for me to lie to another…creature. I have no use of your names, nor will I use them to my benefit.” Your revelation comes as a shock to him, because as soon as the promise leaves your lips, his demeanor shifts, and he no longer radiates violence but a sense of understanding.

“But make no mistake, if I so much as suspect anything from you, I will choose my safety…and whatever that entails with it. Do you understand me?” Too long a moment passes between you, but you wait with bated breath until he nods in agreement before you stand and step away from him.

“As I told your friend, I do not wish to have anything to do with you. And I will happily remain out of your way to offer you similar courtesy.” Your voice is unwavering, and Tovar studies you closely, his eyes as fixed as your message. He stands opposite you and for a moment, you are distracted by his broad shoulders and firm presence. But you brush the thought aside and blink slowly when he nods in affirmation one last time.

“Sleep well, bruja.” He bids you a good night and walks away, leaving you more confused and concerned than when you first entered the qahwa an hour ago. Looking around the voyagers in the room, you cannot help but think of leaving the country altogether. You are confident that should you stay, things would only grow more complicated, and you have no desire to live in anxiety until this mission is finished. But you know you should not ignore your visions, nor should you move past what you saw when you took Tovar’s hands.

You could not place this need to know who he is to you. Nor did you wish to ignore the sense of familiarity that washed over you when you held his hand in your own.

The feeling was unlike anything else you have ever experienced, and the desire to place him grew exponentially over night, keeping you awake until the sun shone in the sky. You pushed the windows open at dawn, allowing the prayer call to put your mind at ease as you prepared for the day.

A part of you had accepted what the next few weeks, perhaps months, could reveal. You knew you should listen to your mind, allow it to care for your well being and drive you away from this task. But as you exited the inn and found Tovar waiting upon a camel and eyeing you as you approached the men he was surrounded with, you knew your heart had won this time.

You would not leave. You would not run away. And you certainly would not allow Tovar to have you question your sanity.

“Who brought the girl?” You walked to your horse, patting her neck as you fed her the carrots you bought the previous night. Ignoring the question, you continue to softly rub your companion, whispering words of encouragement as she ate every last bit of food you offered her. Expecting the man to move aside when no answer was offered to him, you glance quickly to the side when you hear him approach closer than you appreciated, and as he reached out to touch your hair, you dragged a dagger across his chest and pinned it just beneath his neck, holding his arm in between the two of you and staring at him until his eyes were filled with nothing but shock and fear.

“If you value your neck, I suggest you keep the rest of your limbs to yourself.” The warning is breathed lowly, loud enough for him to hear, and the rest of the men to wonder about. It takes him a little over a minute to respond, and you push him away aggressively, making your lack of patience known to the others. You wait to see if anyone else is willing to test you, and when they all return to their conversations, you attend to your horse once more.

As you mount her, you chance a look at Tovar and find him attempting to hide a smirk from you. Unsure of what he could possibly be smiling about, you pat your horse and ask her to move towards the dock, not bothering to wait for any of the company.

Passing the busy markets of Cairo, you admire the crafts and tools being sold throughout, and you make a stop when you notice Tefnut eyeing the ripe strawberries ahead. You jump down and walk towards the older woman, collecting a fair amount of strawberries and putting it on the scale to see how much it costs. She holds out seven fingers and you nod in gratitude, giving her the coins she requested and then some. She pats her chest in return, handing you another few strawberries to which you refuse, silently letting her know that you do not need any more.

Making your way back to your horse, you stop in your tracks when you see Tovar and William flanking your horse and conversing. Not wanting to create a scene, you approach Tefnut and take her reins, bringing her forward and away from the two men so she can eat in peace.

“What do you think you are doing with my horse?”

“If you value your companion, lass, perhaps do not leave her by herself. We were behind you when we saw a man attempt to take her away.” William starts, holding his hands up to ensure you do not misunderstand his kindness for something else. You look between him and Tovar, and you cannot help the shock written on your features when you find him relishing the sunlight as it begins to warm the day.

Tovar knows immediately why you are stupefied but he shakes his head, refusing to give in to whatever inquiries you now hold for him.

“Vámonos,” he paces away on his camel, calling after William who continues to wait for a response from you.

“Noted, thank you.” You say nothing further, knowing that explaining why you are not worried for your horse could open potential lines of questioning from both him and Tovar. As you watch them move closer to the port, you wonder how Tovar is able to bask in the warmth of the sun without instantly setting into fire. Pushing the rest of the strawberries into Tefnut’s mouth, you mount her and follow the two men, already meditating on the different spells that could offer such protection.

You were sure it was a spell, but you were also aware that only a powerful witch could hold such abilities in her hands. Not only that, but he would have needed to either compel her or do something so honorable that she granted him this in return. The question was, did Tovar receive this gift through coercion or offering.

When you finally reach the port and find the rest of the company surrounding a gentleman standing high on a ship, you get off Tefnut and walk towards the back, listening to who you presume is the headhunter of this mission.

“Now, you may ask yourselves why there is such a large number of you, the answer of which lies in who and what you are meant to be protecting. For the coming weeks, you are tasked with protecting the merchant caravans traveling along the Nile. Our merchants will be carrying several goods, the most important of which are textiles and gold.” You listen carefully in an attempt to find answers to your questions. You are unsure whether you were brought to this land for the sole purpose of protecting said merchants, or something in association.

“Before I go any further, you all must understand something very important. Should any one of you grow greedy and tired of your travels and decide to steal something for yourself, I assure you, I will ensure your death comes soon after by none other than the rest of the company, who will be paid double upon their return. Do not test me.” He refuses to smile throughout his speech, and you know then that he may have been double-crossed by mercenaries before. A familiar sensation crosses over you and you turn around in time to see Tovar refusing to look elsewhere. You maintain his gaze for a moment out of habit, and only when the headhunter continues his speech do you finally turn away.

“Expect bandits of many allegiances along the route. And under no circumstances will you allow others in your company that have not been hired by me. You will each receive a quarter of your share now, and when you have reached Aswan, you will have the rest of your payment.” You notice several men raise their hands to inquire after their task, but you pay them no mind as you approach the merchants and introduce yourself. Two men nearly huff in humor when you tell them you are one of their protectors, but the third man quiets them instantly, letting them know what he has seen earlier in the morning.

“Good day to you all,” you bid them a farewell before returning to your post, watching as each man receives his share from the gentleman on the ship and makes his way back to the merchants. When it is your turn, you say nothing but your name, to which the older man nods and continues on. As you move back to your horse, you walk past Tovar, and for a split second, his scent seeps through your senses and halts you in your steps.

Myrrh and Oud.

The combination is distinct, one that you are sure you have been in the presence of before. And as you turn around to look at the man you informed the night prior that you wish to steer clear of him, you get the sense that your desires would soon shift and lead you into temptations. Or perhaps, trouble.

Shaking the intrusive thought away, you lead your horse to the back of the company and wait for them to move. If Tovar notices the way you meditate on him throughout the morning and well into the afternoon, he says nothing of it and does as he promises.

You speak to no one as you move up the Nile towards Atfeh, and by nightfall, you find that you are nearly reaching the end of Cairo. As the winds shift and the air grows colder, you hear the leader of the merchants speak to several of the men in the company. Knowing that you are probably resting for the night, you hop off of your horse and lead her towards the shallow end of the Nile, telling her to remain there for the night until you come in the morning.

“Enkotk hahten,” you pat her a few times and back away from the waters, aiming to find a nice tree to make your cot beneath so you can avoid remaining with the men. Not looking behind you, you bump into someone’s chest and slowly turn to find Tovar looking past you and towards your companion.

“Am I mistaken in assuming that you just put a spell on your horse, hechicera?” You are aware his question is not one of nosiness but curiosity, yet you grow irritated at his questioning gaze, mostly due to the fact that he was forcing his scent upon you once more, a scent which you grew to enjoy with each minute that passed in his presence.

“Am I mistaken in assuming that you can walk during the day because of one of my people’s spells?” You retort and notice the manner in which his body grows rigid instantly. He had not expected your question, that you are certain of, but what throws you off is the somber, almost lonely spirit that comes over him at your inquiry.

“I- I do not know.” You furrow an eyebrow at him, unsure of why your heart clenches tightly at such a sad expression from him. Not knowing what you should do, you step away from him to clear your mind, not wanting his musk to distract you any further.

“I make sure she remains where she is, and anyone who means her harm is gifted with an unkindly kick to the face.” The comment seems to fulfill its purpose and you watch as Tovar nods once before moving his camel towards the water as well. You are not sure what about him that seems so fascinating to you, but you move away from the company regardless, not wanting to partake with any of the men as the night grows colder and lonelier.

Lying below a tree at the edge of the company, you glance around to ensure that no one is nearby before reaching out both of your hands and envisioning the tree above you.

“Come, O Isis, mighty in magic, protector of your son Horus! Deliver me from all evil, harmful things, from the serpent, from poison, and from any harm that comes my way. Let him who knows no evil against me enter.” Whispering the words into the night air, you open your eyes and watch as a soft haze only you can see falls around you. Glancing out into the Nile, you see Tovar push his camel near your horse and pat Tefnut on her back. Unlike the others, she responds kindly to him, nosing at his armor and forcing a graceful smile onto his features. The moment is cut short when he suddenly turns to look at you, and before you can turn away, he steps away from your horse and bows his head, silently apologizing for presuming familiarity with your companion.

Pulling the blanket over yourself, you shut your eyes and surrender to a deep sleep. It has been long since you allowed yourself any respite, but something about the previous night’s meeting, and today’s long journey, pushes you briskly into an intense slumber.

You dream of ancient dunes and majestic monuments. You dream of the running waters of the Nile River and a sunrise unlike any you have ever seen. You dream of long-forgotten touches and soft kisses.

But perhaps most importantly, you dream of a pair of brown eyes, following you everywhere you go, gazing through your soul longingly, begging you to return the love etched deep within them.

Hoping. Hoping for salvation.

“All roads lead to you, even those I took to forget you.” —Mahmoud Darwish October 30th, 1422

“¡Cuidado!” You stoop to the ground in time to avoid a dagger to the neck, and without hesitation, you pull the weapon through the air, aiming it straight into your assailant’s chest and watching as he falls to the ground with shock and fear written on his expression. There is no time to dwell on the reason behind your enemy’s attack, and you swiftly end one man after another, noting the unique ways they move and speak in hopes of understanding more about them.

Chaos continues to unfold around you, and you do your best to remain beside the merchants and their goods, refusing to allow anyone near them. There is a strange air about the field, one that you cannot help but recognize instantly. You would know that presence anywhere in the world, and as you take down the men approaching those you are meant to protect, you miss one strutting from behind you, and when you finally feel his spirit lingering just against your back, you are met with a pair of strong hands, ones that push you aside and receive a silver dagger in your stead.

A painful howl rips through your chest, and you watch in horror as Tovar reaches behind him and drags the weapon from his back, not caring for how beastly he must look as he penetrates the knife three times into his enemy’s jugular. He turns around and studies you, and the shock of his actions must be apparent because he nods once and moves on to the next unfriendly visitor.

You are unsure of how to think of what he has willingly done for you, but you waste no time and stand to your height, continuing to battle alongside him in hopes of returning the favor should it be needed. There is no way of knowing how long the company spends fighting off the bandits, but by the time you are done, the sun slowly begins to set past the horizon and you are left with a multitude of bodies to either bury or scavenge from.

When you are positive you are no longer needed, you walk towards the nearby village, wanting to find the source of familiarity brushing over your mind ever since you entered Asyut. Moving through the quiet streets, you call out to the spirit of the witch, hoping she has enough strength to respond in kind. Not a few moments later, you watch as a soft, green thread loops around you and slowly pulls you forward. You follow without delay, watching as the thread grows into a deeper shade the closer you approach the hiding place. As soon as you stand in front of the broken down building, you push through doors and run into the property, not caring for the possibility of more bandits.

Making a sharp turn to the left, you come to a halt as you look upon a face you have not seen in decades.

“Petra,” you call out for her, running to her side as she breaks down into tears and reaches for your arms. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you wrap yourself around her, and you briefly feel a sense of trepidation take over you, but you give the thought no time to linger, wanting to nurse your friend’s wounds as soon as possible.

“What are you doing here?” You pull away and hold her cheeks in your hands, looking in between her bloodied and bruised eyes as she continues to sob in your arms.

“I- I do not know. They never told me what they wanted with me, only that I was useful to them in some way. But now that I know you are here, I suspect they are after you. Please, sister, tell me you are safe. Tell me they are not after you.” She speaks haphazardly and you quiet her down to the best of your abilities, not wanting to give her any reason for more panic now that you saved her.

“I am well, dearest. Do not worry,” you smile at her, pulling her to her feet and breaking the chains around her wrists to lead her away. Only when you reach the door to the abandoned home do you look up and find Tovar waiting for the two of you. You do not get a chance to explain yourself asTovar sniffs the air deeply and releases the unholiest of growls, aimed not at you but your coven sister.

“What- what is he doing here?” She shakes in fear and hides behind you, and you throw a protection spell around her for precaution, not wanting to lead attention to the three of you.

“He will not hurt you, I promise.” The words do not leave your mouth for more than a few seconds before Tovar menacingly walks towards you, his eyes turning a deep shade of fiery gold that reminds you of what he is.

“Do not test my patience, Tovar.” The command is barely louder than a whisper, yet he refuses to back down, offering you a similar order in kind. “Do not mock my kindness, maga.” The display of his canines would shake you to your core had you not spent the past few weeks traveling with him and knowing him just a little bit more.

Neither of you seem to back down, and only when you feel your friend descend to the floor and clutch at your feet do you finally push Tovar away and warn him with a snap of your fingers. A fire engulfs the inside of the building instantly, and you watch as his demeanor shifts to one of caution. He looks around him briefly and returns his focus on you, not bothering to say another word as he backs away and holds his hands up in defeat.

“Remember the headhunter’s words, she cannot join us.” He warns as he walks out of the smoky room and out to the street.

“I will vouch for her.” You retort immediately, letting him know that your decision is not up for debate. He shakes his head at you and glances at Petra one last time, breathing in her scent one last time as he returns to the company.

“Why are you traveling with that- that thing?” Petra inquires when Tovar is out of reach, and you turn to her, patting her on the neck one last time as you lead her to your group.

“It was not my decision. I- I joined a company tasked with protecting a group of merchants and he happened to be one of them.” You weave your hands around her skin, silently breathing healing and protection spells that would alleviate her pain and wounds quicker.

“Do you know him?” There is a strangeness about the question she asks and for whatever reason your mind conjures, you shake your head in an instant, a part of you letting you know that it would be unwise to tell her of the familiarity you feel with him.

When you reach the company, you speak with the merchants, letting them know that you found your sister by chance, and that she would only accompany you for a few days before she feels better. As they inspect her, you barely manage to hide the smile from your face at how helpless she makes herself appear to them, and only when they nod their approval do you take her away and ask her to ride on Tefnut.

The rest of the day is met with more silence, the company beginning to wonder why the bandits have increased suddenly. This was the fourth attack in the span of three weeks, and although your numbers did not noticeably decrease, you also cannot help but think of how abnormal things have become the closer you grow to your destination.

You speak with your old friend, asking her about what she has accomplished in the past few decades, and responding in kind when she wonders where you have been and why the coven has not seen you for nearly a century. You do not know how to answer her, knowing that you could not lie to her if you tried. You tell her you had people to help across the world, sites you wished to visit at least once in case the wars of the New World reached your place.

When night falls, you choose to bring her to an inn, telling her to remain within her room for her own safety. And if she wants to ask where you will go, she does not get to it as Tovar’s presence suddenly becomes known within the confines of the small tavern.

“I assure you, he will not harm you in any way.” You shut the door behind you, locking it and casting one last spell out of fear of other, non-creature visitors. Heading down the stairs, you find Tovar seated by himself at one corner of the cafe, the scene reminding you of that fateful night a few weeks prior. You approach him slowly, not wanting to trigger his anger any further.

As you sit down opposite him, you find the color of his face graying, and nearly reach out to touch him but remember how little you know each other. He sneaks a glance at you, but says nothing, the somber expression he offers you forcing your heart to beat faster out of sympathy.

“Are you unwell?”

“It is none of your concern.” His answer is laced with venom, and you cannot blame him for the hostility, knowing that had he brought more of his kind near you, you would be as uncomfortable, if not more.

“I promise she will not grow near you.” You are not sure what pushes you to offer him such a vow, but the manner in which he recoils into himself and winces at your words lets you know he is not appreciative of the gesture.

“Do not make promises you cannot keep, bruja. You and I know of the past our kinds have suffered through.” His voice is tired, and you attempt to ask him once more if he is unwell.

“Tovar, what you have done for me today-”

“Save it, I do not care for your gratitude, nor do I have any use for it.” He pushes you aside as he walks out of the inn, and you are left speechless, afraid of why your chest tightens at the prospect of him getting hurt for your sake. You have questioned the action all day long, trying your damnedest to find a reason behind the selfless act he performed without so much as a blink of an eye. Nothing has changed throughout the past few weeks, apart of course from the occasional hello and silent sharing of space.

Looking outside, you find the sun setting across the village, and you choose to spend the night walking about the town, wanting to rid your mind of the thousands of questions roaming about Tovar and Petra’s presence.

Gods, why was she here of all places? There was never a reason for someone like her to go so far from her home, let alone travel outside of the coven. There was an oddity to you running into her in this land, more so at being captured by men dressed in attire you have not seen before.

Venturing deeper into town, you surrender to the relief that washes over you the farther you move away from the inn. A part of you feels guilty for not spending more time with your coven sister, but you decide to listen to your heart once more, already ruminating on why reluctance flooded at you upon your first sight of her.

“Goddess divine, please tell me. I am your servant, and I long to know.” The prayer is whispered into the night air, and you decide to ignore the matter and look for more healing herbs, knowing that you should enforce your aid on Tovar the next time you see him. That dagger would be nothing had he fed, but you have not seen him drink an ounce of blood throughout the past few weeks and you would hate for any sickness to befall him because of your lack of focus.

So engrossed in the concoctions of herbs and potions you are collecting, you completely miss the thread of green calling for you, and only when it begins turning into a soft shade of red do you finally recognize it. You drop the powders in your hand and race to the inn, regretting ever leaving Petra by herself. Deep down, you knew there would be an issue between her and Tovar, but you had hoped that he understood you were not to be trifled with.

By the time you reach the inn and run up the stairs, you find the door to her room unlocked and broken off of its hinges. You gasp when you find Tovar bloodied and heaving, his hands clasping onto your sister’s neck as his fingers dig deeper into the skin.

“Tovar,” you try to warn, but the look he offers you is nothing less than murderous.

“Tell her…tell her what you told me.” He is breathing heavily, and you note the way he refuses to loosen his hold on her.

“Unholy animal-” She hisses at him, only to be met with a snarl and a threat of a bite to her neck. You are not sure what he is referring to, but seeing her eyes widen in shock and horror lets you know that it must be important enough for Tovar to test your patience so openly.

“Tell her, what you told me.” He orders once more, his eyes never leaving your own as you snap your fingers and create a door to the room, one that remains shut tightly to avoid any visitors.

“Tovar, unhand her.”

“I cannot do that, bruja.” He shakes his head, his retort not leaving you much of a choice.

“Petra, please. Give him whatever he wants.” You plead with your friend, wishing she is a bit wiser than others of your kind.

“If I tell h-her, she…she will not believe. I am her sister, and you are…nothing. You are nothing to her. She will not believe-” You step forward when you hear an agonizing screech escape her throat and you watch as Tovar delivers a harsh bite to her shoulder. He unclenches his jaws from her a moment later, licking his lips once and shutting his eyes to better envision what her blood offers her. There is a moment of silence as Tovar sees in her memories what he has been seeking, and only when he is satisfied does he push her to the ground and grip her hair tightly.

“If you do not tell her, I will show her. Which do you prefer, capulla?” At the mention of her memories, her eyes seek you out and tear up, leading you to tilt your head to the side and approach the two of them slowly.

“You must understand, we- we couldn’t…” She attempts to make excuses but Tovar was never known for his patience, and he twists her neck once, signaling another bite to her shoulder should she refuse to obey him.

“Tell. Her.” His voice is menacing, and you nod at her with a smile, wanting her to understand that it will all be well.

“In my pocket…reach for the paper in my pocket.” She signals for her right pocket and waits with bated breath as Tovar snatches it and throws it at you. You inhale deeply, unsure of what either of them is referring to.

Slowly unfolding the flimsy piece of paper, you read the top line of the letter and flinch at the familiarity of the date.

“What is this?” You ask Tovar, unsure of what he is attempting to show you. His body grows tired by the minute, but he pays it no mind as he maintains his hold on your sister and responds to your question.

“This is the reason why you cannot recall any memories since the last time you were here,” he finds more knowledge of his statement in your eyes than he thought he would, and he takes a deep breath before continuing with his revelation, “and why I cannot remember anything before 1249.” Once again, the date is not unknown to you, and your eyes widen in realization as you come to understand what he is referring to.

“That was-”

“Yes, the same year you were here.” He cuts you off, pointing at Petra to let you know of her involvement. When you do not make a move to read the letter, he nods towards the piece of parchment and asks you to read it one more time.

“Read it. Out loud, please.”

“December 24th, 1249. An equilibrium, at last, has been attained.” The sentence is bothersome, and you turn to look at Petra, finding more fear in her eyes now that you had hold of the letter than before, when it was only her and Tovar.

“Por favor, continúa.”

“I pen these words with a trembling hand, for the events I am about to recount are of such grievous nature that they shake the very foundation of our order. The traitors have been uncovered, and what we beheld defies comprehension. Upon first encountering them, our hearts were struck with disbelief, for it was assumed—nay, taken as truth—that our coven’s esteemed leader bore envy for her gifts. How deeply mistaken we were! Alas, the fault lay with us all.” You bite your lower lip in anticipation of what’s to come, gazing at Tovar to find any inclination of what the contents of this letter mean to you, either of you. He is nearly trembling but he remains steadfast in his stance, not once letting go of the witch in his hands as you continue to read the words so close to you, yet so far.

“Until the night of her final sighting, we labored under the notion that she had been cruelly abducted. But, oh, how far this presumption was from the truth! When at last we found her, it was in the arms of the devil himself. Not as his prisoner, nor his thrall, but as his equal, his beloved.” You look up to Tovar once more and find him refusing to meet your eyes, as if seeing you would break him for eternity. “She had not been coerced, nor, as his own kind did divulge to us, had he been ensnared by her enchantments. Together they stood, bound by their own volition, in a union both repugnant and unholy. How vile such a betrayal is to witness!” At the mention of the relationship, a flash of an unknown, distant memory crashes through your mind, and you are met with visions of your arms wrapped around the golden skin of a man, one who resembles the vampire standing not a few steps away from you.

No, it cannot be.

“Let it be known that on that cursed night, witches and vampires, long foes, stood as one to halt an abomination. It was a spectacle both harrowing and grotesque—to see the depths of her devotion to him, and his to her.” You are not aware of the tears streaming down your cheeks until you shakily gaze at Tovar and find similar sadness rolling down his face and onto his armor. The words ripping through your chest are of similar torment to him, but he does not budge to grow closer to you, instead furthering his painful grip on Petra out of heartbreak and anger.

“More abhorrent still were his pleas, his promises of eternal torment should harm befall her. In the end, it was their own affections that wrought their downfall. Unable to endure the sight of her bloodied form, he cast aside all pretenses of strength and supplicated himself for her sake—not his own, but hers alone.” You cannot find it in yourself to read it further, the retelling of those events twisting a knife deep within your heart that you swear you may die should you continue.

“Read on, querida.”

“In response to his desperate entreaties, we offered him a choice, though it pained us greatly to do so. It was then he understood why their bond could never endure. A single glance sufficed to convey our intent, followed by but a whisper: she was to forget him, utterly and irrevocably, until the very earth itself crumbled into dust. And thus, he consented, knowing it was their only reprieve. He resolved to undertake the task himself, loathing the mere notion that another might exert such power over her. He could not, would not, permit any other soul to carry out so dreadful an act. It was a torment of unimaginable cruelty, and he alone would bear its weight.” You can feel Tovar’s spirit burst into little fires, and you know then why his hurt runs deeper than your own, why you longed to be near him all those weeks ago but chose to stay clear of him out of a hidden inclination, as if growing closer to him made you burn.

“When his turn came, the coven encircled him, our enchantments weaving an intricate web about his mind, until her name was lost to him entirely. The very notion of her existence was swept away, as fleeting and insubstantial as the sands of the Egyptian dunes beneath the relentless desert wind. Perhaps he welcomed it, for the burden of love was too great even for one such as he. Yet, I confess, I do not believe the spell was entirely imposed upon him. A creature of his power could never have been subdued against his will. For this reason alone we sent her to him, to bring about his end. How little did we anticipate the depth of their bond, for it became evident they would be one another’s undoing.” There is no doubt in your mind on who the letter is referring to, as each word delivers a long lost memory you have begged your soul to recall countless of times. You can envision him so clearly in your mind—his laughter as you drew circles on his chest, his eyes gazing at you longingly as you kissed your love across his skin, his hands as they broke you apart and bound you together with affection and loyalty, and above all, his spirit as it promised to never leave yours, not even if the gods themselves ordered you apart.

He was yours. And you were his.

“I recount these dreadful events as a record of the night in Luxor, that it may stand as a warning to all who come after. We ensured that no offspring could result from their cursed union, for such a progeny would herald the ruin of all creation. Yet, I implore you, vigilance must remain eternal. They were not easily subdued, and should fate ever conspire to reunite them, it will herald the death of us all.” Tovar kneels to the ground, his mouth whispering promises of evil into your sister’s ears as you finish the letter and finally read the betrayal of the writer.

“Yours in eternal duty, Petra A.”

Silence fills the room as you allow the history within the letter to settle in your mind. You fold the letter and place it in your pocket, not caring for anything but the woman kneeling in front of you.

“You betrayed me. You- my own people, betrayed me? How could you do it?” You ask her as you crawl towards her on the floor, not once asking Tovar to ease his grasp on her.

“You have to know why. Your…union is- it is unforgivable.” Her hatred disgusts you, and you frown at how easily she attempts to explain her actions.

“You speak of our union so simply, as if you yourself did not join my brothers and ask them to aid your conquest.” Tovar growls his own concerns to her, not caring for how violent he is becoming as his nails bleed her skin further. Her sobs are silent and she shuts her eyes when you stand and move away from her.

“I need you to know Petra that- that my lack of forgiveness is not due to your betrayal, but because you enforced your pathetic values over my happiness, over his peace. I will find you in every lifetime, and I will rip out your soul with my bare hands…and send you to the goddess without powers, and without explanation.” Before you can respond to you, you reach out your hand and grab hold of her mind, weaving intricate designs around her body until you find what you are searching for and tugging it from her physical presence.

Tovar watches as a yellow cloud forms around the room, and with a snap of your fingers, a mixture of fire and water storms around the yellow shadow, encircling it until it turns into ash and drops to the ground. You twirl your finger around the dust, collecting it into a small pouch and shutting it tightly.

If he is in awe of what you had just done, he says nothing and stands to his height, kicking the lifeless body at his feet to ensure she is no longer alive

“What will you do with her?” You ask as you watch Tovar drag her body from your room and throw her into his own that is across from you

“Scatter her across the Nile.” He shuts the door to his quarters and returns, settling down on the bed beside you quietly.

“My own people betrayed me.” The admission hurts more than you care to admit, and you turn to look at Tovar, only to find him wiping the streaks of tears away from his cheeks.

“Only because mine told them.” He responds instantly, and you hate how little he seems to be affected by his own revelation.

“What happened?” You are not sure what brings you to ask him such a question, but a part of you wishes to know whether he knew beforehand or if her presence alerted him to so sinister a plot.

“I sought you out after our conversation, to ask if you can aid me with…it does not matter. When I could not find you, I came to rest, and found the door unlocked, your friend spewing words that seemed too familiar for me to ignore.” You make a mental note of asking him later what he required from you, and you watch closely as his lips quiver with what happened while you were in the village.

“She did not appear too taken by my presence, but when I passed into your room, her fear stenched the room instantly, and I knew then that- that what I felt initially was not intuition but truth.” He looks to you then, and you find the brown of his eyes so expressive, a reminder of how he looked at you before…all those years ago.

“She must have seen realization dawn on me and felt it unnecessary to continue her lies. She had come with those bandits willingly, bandits which I should let you know, are of my own kind. They feared our paths had crossed in this land and wanted to ensure we did not remember what had happened before. Before I can ask her what she was referring to, she did…this.” He points at the lashes across his face, the deep cuts covering his arms and chest, wounds you hurt to think of. Without much thought, you stand and approach your bag, collecting the herbs you managed to purchase before the events of the night unfolded.

“What are you doing?” He stands instantly, only to sit back down when you turn around and silently ask him to rest. Tovar remains quiet as you bring your bag to him and remove as many of the healing herbs as you can.

“Can you please remove your armor and tunic?” You ask once, refusing to look into his eyes as he begins the slow, agonizing process of taking his clothes off. Neither of you say anything as you wait for him to throw his belongings to the floor, and you let him know that you will fix them as soon as you are finished administering the medication to his skin.

“This may hurt a bit. I- forgive me.”

“It is nothing, hermosa.” You do not dare ask him why his names for you changed, but you wait patiently as he continues to tell you what Petra informed him of.

“She knew my wrath would fuel me, and by the time I had my hand wrapped around her throat, she spilled her secrets easily, telling me of everything your kind and mine had done to us 173 years ago. She- she spoke of their success as if it was destined by God himself, as if our lives meant nothing. I knew I would rip her throat to pieces if she did not call you, so I led her to believe that I will release her when you come.” He hisses in pain when you rub a brown salve across his chest and arms, turning the other way to avoid showing you his fangs.

“And then I came.” You distract him, letting him know that you understand he does not mean to snarl at you.

“And then you came.” His body shakes the lower you apply the herbs, and when he is sure you are finished, he stands and walks away from you.

A loud gasp spills into the room when you see his back and the wound he received because of you.

“T-tovar.” You whimper his name, and it takes every ounce of control to not throw your arms around him and apologize for your lack of sight.

“I am not worth your tears, sabia.” He turns around and smiles sadly at you, reaching for your cheeks and wiping the tears away. You step closer to him, and only when Tovar scents your body does he come to his senses, quickly backing away from you and reaching for his tunic.

“Wait- Tovar, please wait. I- I can heal this.” You lead him to the bedside once more, and kneel on it as you ask him to face away from you.

“Do not worry yourself.”

“You and I both know that this silver will only spread, and unless you feed now, you will not be able to heal quickly. Please, let me heal you.” Your voice breaks at the end, and Tovar can do nothing when you plead with him. He nods silently and shuts his eyes as he feels your hands skim across the skin of his back. Your touch is so familiar yet so distant, and he suspects that similar emotions tunnel through you, but he pays them no mind, not wanting to abuse your kindness and have you think he wants more from you now that-

Now that you both knew the truth.

“O Isis, great healer, mother of Horus, deliver your humble servant, Pero Tovar, from all evil. May the breath of life fill his lungs, and may your light heal his wounds. By the power of Geb and Nut, the father of the earth and the mother of the sky, may your body be restored. Let the sacred words cleanse your mind and body, and the breath of life renew your soul and spirit.” Tovar can feel you touch his skin in strange patterns, and he nearly asks why you are choosing the old gods of this land when he feels a kindle of fire radiate across his back. He haunches over in pain, but says nothing as you continue to touch his back, your skin softer and hotter than anything he has ever felt in his life.

He is unsure how long he remains in your bed, and only when he feels you let out a long sigh does he turn around and find you slowly falling over.

“Cariño, you are hurt!” You smile at the worry in his voice, chuckling at how different everything seems to be now that you both put a name to the mixed feelings you experienced all those weeks ago upon your reuniting.

“It…I am well, P-pero.” The whisper of his name could send him flying if he was capable of such a feat, and he swallows thickly as he lays you down and covers you with the bedsheets.

“Rest, mi luna. And I will come to wake you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you, the expression letting you feel a safety you have not known in so long. You nod absentmindedly, letting go of his hands and falling into a deep sleep as Tovar collects his belongings and leaves your room. He locks the door behind you and makes quick work of his clothes, his body rejuvenated with more than your words and herbs.

Entering into his room, he is met with the lifeless body of Petra, and he cannot help but sneer at everything she has done to him and you. Without wasting another moment, he carries her body and shuts his eyes, racing down the stairs and out to the Nile bank in a matter of seconds. He glances around to ensure no one can see him, and when he is positive he is alone, he quickly shreds the witch's body to pieces, scattering them across the river as he promised you until nothing but her blood remains on the soiled ground.

Looking out into the dark horizon, he allows himself a moment of respite and clarity, wanting to bask in the knowledge of what he has felt ever since he laid eyes on you in the qahwa was nothing but his heart’s memories begging him to remember you.

He had known then it was no coincidence, the way your scent was so familiar to his senses, and he was aware that this same recognition was what drove him to seek you out after the battle and know why your sister’s blood was so fundamental to his memories.

Tovar did not know what would become of either of you, but after your little tricks minutes ago, and the way you wept as you read that letter, he dared to hope.

Hope for a chance to prove his loyalty to you.

Hope for the possibility of finding love in your eyes once more, the same deep affection he has felt for you all those years ago, and the one that drove him to remain near you ever since your paths crossed.

“The voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses.” —E. E. CummingsDecember 3, 1422

He was different, much less wary than before, and more interested in keeping your company throughout the journey. You could not refuse his kindness, nor his friendship. So much has passed between the two of you in the past few weeks. From fighting bandits alongside each other, to sitting quietly around the fire at night, your shared experiences grew with each passing day, and before you could place a word on it, your fondness for him evolved into something deeper, something you reminisced about and wondered if it was new or based on past feelings.

The memories returned, one by one, and as you trotted alongside him throughout the day, you stole glances of him, often finding his brown eyes aimed at you before you attended yours on him. He would smile and turn aside, embarrassed you had caught him openly dreaming of you.

And with those memories came a sense of possessiveness. You could not keep silent when he was approached by the bedouin women you met along the way, and he certainly could not keep his mouth shut when other men in your company sought you out late at night. There was an unspoken rule between the two of you, an understanding that you were not available to others, and you desired to speak of its finality, but it appeared that he wanted to address said rule long after the mission was finished. He preferred to keep you at arm’s length, afraid to speak of the matters that befell you on All Hallows’ Eve. You told him later of your reluctant thoughts on whom you thought was a close friend, surprised to find him answering you about your own kind’s heightened powers during this time of year. He recalled things you were sure only a witch would know, and smiled as he realized how he knew such matters.

The more time you spent together, the more you understood of your past life, or, the life you held before they made you forget each other. You learned about his past, and in turn, realized things within your own life. Tovar too became more aware of his behavior the more you spoke of what you envisioned each night. Of course, you would never tell him of the more intimate moments your mind’s eye recollected, but you got the sense that he knew. The mischievous smile that graced his features and the shy demeanor that overtook him each time you recollected a day from your past lead you to believe that he saw similar dreams, or perhaps, imagined said sentiments when he rested his body late at night.

Yet, with those shared experiences, you had to continue pretending that you were not more. As much as he hated to admit it, Tovar was a shy soul, and you were not one to speak of such matters with someone unwilling to actively take part in such a conversation. So, you let him lead, praying each night that he would begin to notice the way you look at him, the longing filling your hands whenever he is near, the wildness of your heartbeat as it whispered his name over and over again.

But he never crossed that line, and you pushed his reluctance aside as you took your belongings and made your way to one of the hamams. You had invited him earlier, letting him know of the privacy you can afford with your earnings. Then he brushed off your offer, mumbling something or other about not trusting the open space about the establishment. But you could see through the excuse; something was bothersome to him, and you hoped you had not done anything to upset him. He may have been a nightwalker, but he held a sensitive soul, one you remembered vividly from before. When neither of you moved following your invitation, you looked upon him, silently asking if he was bothered by something you may have done. He shook his head then, as if to tell you he can read your thoughts and does not wish to dwell on the matter.

“The waters in these baths come from the oasis nearby, they have healing abilities.” You attempt to tempt him, but he does not budge, refusing you once more as he walks away and disappointedly responds to you.

“Déjalo.”

You were not sure if it was possible to be more plain; sure, if he wishes to discuss your situation after the commission, you could take him up on the offer then. But he does not bother to explain himself to you, the hot and cold behavior throwing you off and raising anxious questions in your mind. You pray to the gods you had not accidentally pushed him away. It would break you.

A part of you wanted nothing more than to blame him, but you could not. His kind was never confrontational with matters of the heart, and you guessed it took you a long time before to become so intimate with him.

Reaching the bath you rented for the night, you smile at the woman sitting outside and let her know that another, more brooding gentleman may or may not join you. You ignore the smirk on her expression, silently entering the vapor-filled room and shutting the door behind you.

It is more exquisite than you initially thought, and you set your towels aside, stripping down to nothing and throwing the dress atop your towels before stepping into the hot water. It does wonders to your body, the immense and quick relief allowing you to momentarily forget why you had originally wanted to spend some time here. The quietness of the room, and the marvelous architecture engulfing your tired soul, allow you to doze off. You whisper soothing spells across the waters, wanting to feel more relaxed in preparation for the journey tomorrow.

As you float around the small space, you feel a familiar presence grow closer to you, and not moments after your eyes flutter open do you hear the door to the hamam open wide, signaling the arrival of none other than Tovar. He reluctantly enters the cloudy area, adjusting his sight to the space until his attention falls directly on you.

Silence fills the room as you both acknowledge the other’s presence, and before you can ask him what has changed his mind, Tovar places his belongings beside your own and asks you to turn around. You give him a moment of privacy and face the small window at the end of the little opening within the wall, watching the stars twinkle outside in an attempt to focus on anything other than the nude man touching the same waters you are resting in.

“Are you decent?” You cannot help but smile at the question, and when a gruff consent vibrates across the walls, you turn around and finally meet Tovar’s eyes. Although you have healed him weeks prior, the sight of his golden skin littered with old wounds and scars sets you on fire, and you have to force your gaze away from his chest to avoid embarrassing yourself.

“I am glad you came,” your attempt at making the moment less awkward fails, as Tovar does not bother to respond to you but steps around the water silently and lets the heat heal his weary soul.

You are unsure how much time passes, but you let Tovar lead the space, afraid his anxiety would force him out of the waters. You can tell he is watching you closely, and you do not bother to behave any differently than if you were alone, knowing that he much prefers the quiet enjoyment of the intimate moment over anything more involving. He allows himself to relax soon after, and you throw him a soft smile as you pass the palms of your hands across the waters and heat it just a little bit more. His skin grows a little red, and you worry it may not be to his liking.

“Is it uncomfortable?” You inquire, hoping he would not shy from telling you his true feelings.

“Está bien,” he breathes lowly, and you cannot help the shiver that courses down your spine when his deep voice reaches your skin. Tovar notices the effect he holds on you, and without dwelling much on the appropriateness of his actions, he approaches you, his gaze never once wavering as the water dances around your bodies. You hold your breath, afraid to break whatever haze that befell you, and when he is a mere hair-breadth away, you look up and into his eyes, allow your chest to rise and fall rapidly as shallow breaths come and go, signaling your excitement and nervousness.

You watch him closely, and in turn, Tovar studies every movement of your body, as if you were a prey he has been seeking for ions. He never once looks beneath your neckline, and you credit his immense self-control, knowing you are incapable of offering him similar comfort. When your back touches the cold tiles of the wall, you swallow the lump in your throat and quiver, lips shaking at the prospect of whatever the vampire in front of you has in mind.

His eyes are dark with promises only you know he can fulfill, and as stares into you, you are suddenly taken back to a similar moment, one that has you regret ever hurting him. Focusing on the scar across his eye, you raise your hand and slide it over his temple and cheek, frowning at imposing such lasting violence on his skin.

“Forgive me,” there is nothing more to say, the history you find in his eyes letting you know he remembers what you have done to him upon your first meeting. He shuts his eyes and nuzzles into your hand, unaware of the way his hand reaches out to grasp at your upper arm. Tovar pulls you closer until you are breathing the same air, and when he opens his eyes and finds tears rolling down your cheeks, he wipes them away, his attention seeking your lips when a droplet of water sticks to the lower skin. Sliding his thumb across your mouth, he parts his own lips and tilts closer to you, until nose nudges yours and forces you to look up.

So very close to feeling his mouth steal your breath away, you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces when Tovar suddenly moves to the other end of the bath, his back turned away from you and his muscles rippling with an anger you have not seen for weeks.

“Wha-”

“I cannot understand you.” He is seething, and had you not been sure he was finally going to claim you, you would have thought this was all a dream, a very sick, twisted dream.

“What…what do you mean?”

“You allow me such…liberties, and yet you- you seek out the merchant boy whenever you can? As if we are nothing but- but…” Tovar trips over his words, and your frown deepens when you finally piece together what he means to say to you.

“Tovar, if there is a concern you wish to address, do so plainly.” You approach him then, voice wavering slightly when he turns around and stares somewhere behind you, as if he could not bear looking into your eyes.

“Do not play coy with me, bruja.” The name he breathes, one that slowly turned into something that makes you smile, now sounds nothing more than an insult, and you feel a pang of hurt at the insinuation behind his words. You try to maintain your composure, but the manner in which he is set in his mind lets you know he may not see past his perspective at this moment.

“I am not one to jest, Tovar, and until you are willing to speak freely and listen in turn, I will waste my time. Enjoy the bath…alone.” You attempt to move past him but he reaches out for your arm and pulls you back, causing you to snarl at him out of fear of getting hurt any further.

“Do not touch me!”

He removes his hand immediately, staring at fiery eyes as you narrow them at him in irritation. You know you should leave, not speak another word that may be misconstrued or worse, one that cannot be taken back. But his anger lights your own and you walk towards him, pushing your finger into his chest as you part with nothing but lies.

“If you were vain, I would justify your anger as such. But this is different and whatever jealousy you are falling into is unnecessary.”

“And what if I am?” His question is unexpected, skin buzzing with energy now that you have spoken of what his mind has been thinking of for the past few days. You attempt to convince yourself to retract whatever thoughts brewing deep within, but seeing him react so strongly to your proximity and assertiveness pushes you further and before you can control yourself and walk away, you retort with a hiss.

“If you were, I would tell you that you have no reason to be. I am nothing to you, and I am certainly not interested in this swine of a man. This behavior will only-” Perhaps the universe decided against your response and wished to avoid any further misunderstandings because just as you are readying yourself for an outright battle, the doorkeeper walks in and interrupts your conversation.

“Yajib ‘an tughadiron,” she requests for both of you to leave, and you suspect it may be because of the hamam’s rules, the ones you chose to ignore for Tovar’s sake. Shaking your head at him, you do not care for your nudity as you leave the waters and haphazardly wear your tunics once more, apologizing to the young woman for any inconvenience you may have caused and leaving before Tovar can so much as think of another sentiment against you.

Only when you reach the dressing rooms do you allow Tovar’s concerns to settle in, and you settle against the wall, eyes looking into nothing when it occurs to you that he has plainly admitted to feeling jealous of your conversations with the merchant. You are unsure why he would allow his mind to tread towards such thoughts when he can plainly hear your words and understand your inquiries are nothing more than shared interests in the trade products. Your journey was close to an end. Edfu was a few days away from your destination and you wished to see what goods you can buy from the merchants that may be of benefit to you once you leave.

There was absolutely no reason for Tovar to ever waste a moment on why you are conversing with the man, and you shake your head in disappointment, knowing this could all be avoidable had he asked to speak with you on your…relationship.

Putting on your clothes, you swear beneath your breath at the thickness of that man, knowing that it was probably as difficult to get him to confess his feelings to you before as it was now.

“Goddess help me,” you speak to the empty room, only to flinch when you hear heavy breathing emanate from behind you. Turning around, you find Tovar’s chest rising and falling angrily, as if the mere sight of you caused him extreme discomfort. Not caring for the display of intensity, you pull on your tunics and avoid his gaze, allowing him another moment of respite before you truly rip into him. He surprises you, though, when he approaches you and waits for you to look at him before he speaks.

“No, you are wrong. You are not nothing to me, and…I- I am jealous bruja, I have been jealous for weeks now.” The way in which he murmurs his confession disarms you, and you stop moving altogether, eyebrows furrowing at his choice in words and their timing. You cross your arms and meet his gaze head on, refusing to back down as you have done so weeks prior.

“Who could you possibly be jealous of, Tovar? I rarely speak to anyone in our company.” You know better than to interrupt him, but you cannot help the question from leaving your lips, wanting him to think through his next words carefully to avoid irritating you any further. Then he shakes his head and swallows the lump in his throat, and you are, once again, mollified at how easily he affects your mood.

“I am not jealous of those men, I- I am jealous of-” You can tell he is struggling to find the right word to speak, because his hands clench and unclench, jaw set in place and lips pursing with impatience, as if he hated himself for not being capable of speaking his mind freely. You wait for him, knowing that you may never have him so forthright ever again, and as his breathing calms, you are suddenly hit with a wave of defeat and hurt, feelings you were positive are not your own but his.

“I am jealous of the rain.” The words escape his lips, barely above a whisper, yet heavy to feel like a confession of the soul. For a man of his stature, you are shocked to see a shaking ripple descend down his form, his hands ball into fists at his sides, the knuckles turning white, as though he is holding himself back from closing the distance between you. When he finally musters up the courage to look at you, you are met with a vulnerability you never thought you could see in him again—a rawness that strips away the hardened exterior he wears like armor.

His brows knit together, raised in despair, as if willing you to understand the storm inside him without him having to explain. You blink in confusion, unsure what he wants to convey. Tovar mistakes your quietness for indifference, clearing his throat to give himself enough time to find the necessary sentiments in hopes of forcing your heart to beat for him. When he speaks again, his voice is steadier, though no less anguished.

“I am jealous of the rain, mi amor. I am jealous of the rain because it touches you so intimately, night after night, when I cannot.” His shoulders, broad and strong, sag ever so slightly as if they can no longer bear the weight of his emotions. And you feel your breath hitch, his words settling like an ocean of water on your chest, heavy with longing and need. He does not stop, the floodgates of his emotions now open and unreserved, begging to be released for his sake and for a glimpse of hope from yours.

“I am jealous of the rain because it kisses your skin continuously when I dream of nothing else but that very thing.” Tovar takes a step closer, the space between you trembling with unspoken yearning. You can feel heat radiation from him, the fire in his words burning brother with every syllable. And your eyes, full of wonder and curiosity, pull him in further offering him a glimpse of what he held in his arms centuries ago. He was not a man of faith, far from it, but seeing the manner in which your body leans into his space, Tovar is sure his prayers have been answered, and your spirit finally felt the desperation of his very essence.

“I am jealous of the rain because…” His voice falters, his jaw tightening as he struggles to continue, afraid you fear the depth of what he desires from you. “Because every time it comes, you welcome it with open arms and smiles, letting it do whatever it wishes with your body…when I am desperately-” A single tear trails down his cheek, and you see his composure shatter as his hand briefly reaches towards you, only to stop mid-air, retreating as though he’s afraid his touch might burn you.

Or worse, your skin sets him into an eternal fire.

“When I am desperately wanting to be the one you welcome, the one you grace with upturned lips.” Tovar’s revelation hands in the air, raw and unrelenting. You feel your heart ache for him, but before you can respond, he surges forward again, his voice rising with an almost pained intensity. You dare not flinch, knowing whatever has hold of him will soon overflow through you and push you to put him out of his misery.

“Do you know what it feels like, bruja? To be so close to you and yet so far away? To burn every time you laugh, every time you speak, knowing that I am nothing but a shadow at your side? One that you despise because of what my kind has done to you.”

He steps back as if his own confession has wounded him, his hands shaking at the thought of you denying his heart, the one he had no choice but to bear to you, uncaring of what you may do to it. His next words are softer, almost fragile, as if spoken into a void he is confident will only face him in return and ignore him.

“I am jealous of the rain…but I am terrified as well. Terrified that you will leave once I-”

“Pero,” you interrupt, trembling at the intensity of his feelings, and the knowledge that he more than reciprocated your own but was drowning in a sea of helplessness.

Pero freezes, his dark eyes widening with disbelief at hearing you call him by his given name. You step forward, lips parting in anticipation, and for the first time, your voice breaks through his storm of self-pity.

“You have been jealous of the rain, and all this time, I have been jealous of the moon.” His brow furrows, confusion flickering across his features at hearing you return his confession in kind. But you continue, growing steadier the closer you move towards him.

“Watching how it lights up your face at night when I wish to be the one you look to.” His breath catches as your words settle between you, and you press on, your own emotions spilling forth like a river breaking through land.

“Longing for you to see me the way I see you. Praying to every god known to man that you will look past my nature and find my heart, the one that speaks your name with every beat.” Pero’s expression shifts, his guarded walls crumbling as he steps closer. His voice is shaking with uncertainty as finally allows himself to touch you. His hand finds your cheek and he leans forward to rest his forehead against your own, shutting his eyes to ensure that this was not a dream, that you were in his arms, returning his love and more.

“How can you be jealous of the moon…when you are mi luna?” He pulls away then, searching your eyes for any lies and finding nothing but unadulterated truth. You bite into your lower lip as his eyes pierce through you, leaving you breathless and needy for him. Swallowing hard, you cannot hold back any longer and throw your arms around him, letting your body sag against his embrace as he holds you against him and tightens his arms around you.

“I—I cannot breathe when you are not near.” Pero releases a deep sigh of relief at your confession, his breath a ragged whisper as he nuzzles into your neck and scents your intoxicating skin.

“Dios mío, bruja. You will be the death of me.” For the first time in decades, the weight of longing gives way to the lightness of surrender, and you dig your nails into his back, wanting him to know that you cannot ever allow space between you now that it has finally disappeared.

“I think I am finally starting to believe you mean that.” You chuckle against him, and as you feel him pull away, you look at him and search his face for any hint of hesitation. But all you find is sincerity, his eyes fixed on you, dark and unwavering, as if you are the only thing anchoring him to this earth.

“And if I do?” Pero asks, his voice low and tinged with an unguarded mischievousness.

Your chest tightens at the rawness in his tone, the unspoken please woven into his words forcing your heart to pound against your ribcage. The warmth of his presence pulls you in, and you swallow nervously, wanting to ensure you have his undivided attention before you reveal your deepest desires.

“Then I beg you to show me.”

His eyes, once filled with mischief, convey disbelief, and he simply stares at you as though he cannot comprehend what he is hearing. The air around you feels charged, heavy with unspoken hunger that neither of you dare to release just yet.

“Amor,” he says, ceasing to breathe until he is certain of what you are asking of him.

“Pero, please.” You clasp onto the collar of his tunic, eyes locked onto his as you will him to understand that you mean your request with every ounce of your being.

The conflict in his eyes is palpable, his jaw clenching as he fights some internal battle, his physical needs pushing past all else.

“You wish for me to-” He stops himself, his words faltering as if he is afraid to say them aloud. Pero brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, the touch featherlight, yet intense enough to send a shiver down your spine, the moment making it impossible to look away.

“Yes,” you nod, praying he can move past any reluctance and see your desire for him as clear as day. “I need you, Pero.”

For a moment, he simply looks at you, as though trying to memorize every detail of your face. Then, with a deep sigh, his gaze softens and he grazes your cheek with his fingers.

“If I have you,” he says quietly, wanting you to understand how fervent his feelings for you are, “I will never again let you out of my sight. I will fight the heavens and the earth to keep you by my side.” His promise should terrify you, the possessiveness and loyalty he displays making you think twice before you completely surrender to him. But the opposite occurs, and you find yourself willing to forever be at his mercy.

“Pero, I am yours,” You reply, balancing yourself on your toes as you tilt your chin up to offer him a final answer. “I have always been yours.”

His lips curve into the faintest smile, a bittersweet expression that speaks of all the pain, longing, and love he has carried for so long. Slowly, he leans in, parting his lips as you both shut your eyes and finally give your hearts away.

Again.

The world around you fades into nothingness as your breath mingles with his own, your lips touching with a mixture of tenderness and desperation. The soft kiss is thick with emotions, and you dare not let go of him, terrified he might disappear should you release him. Pero must feel a similar fear, his hands rough and trembling as he holds onto your waist with one and cups your neck with the other. You both tilt your heads to the side with need to deepen the kiss, and no sooner than you part your lips does Pero, with fierce and unapologetic rawness, collide against you. He presses against you with a fervor that steals the air from your lungs, the hand around your neck slipping into your damp hair and tangling in the strands as he pulls you impossibly closer. His body molds into yours, a growl escaping his throat when he feels your hand find their way to his chest and clutch at him as if your own life depended on his presence.

And when his teeth grace your lower lip, a spark of intensity ignites something primal between you. Your heart beats erratically at the shameful thought storms your mind, and you find yourself wishing with every bit of you that Pero could see through your need and give you what you desire without you needing to beg him for it.

Pero must sense the wanton ache threatening to make itself known because he finally breaks away, not to pull back, but to study your expression and take pride in the effect he holds on you. Your lips tingle, swollen and red from the raw intensity of the exchange, and you cannot help but stare at his fangs, wondering what they would feel like as they sank deep into your skin until he gorged himself on you. Then you meet his eyes and are taken aback by the golden rings piercing through you. It takes you but a moment to understand that he knows what you want from him, and he licks his lips dramatically, savoring the taste of you before he leans down and carries you in his arms.

“Whatever debauched desire you want from me, querida, it is yours.” You take note of the truths between the lines, flushing heatedly at being so seen by the man you have fallen in love with once and learned to love again.

“Take me.” The two words are whispered with assertiveness, and Pero does not need to be told twice, quietly pushing your head to rest on his shoulders as he rushes to his quarters. Neither of you say anything, knowing that should you speak another word, you would have each other out in the open without a single care. Only when you reach the hallway of your rooms does Pero stop and turn to you.

“Do you wish for my bed, or for your own?” The question is asked, not out of reluctance, but out of care. He wants to ensure your comfort, refusing to place you into a distressing space that may have you guessing his loyalty to you.

“I want to be in your bed. I- I want to erase the memories of our last goodbye, the silence that followed us like ghosts. I want to feel the world in your arms, Pero, and nowhere else.” The sentiment is heartbreaking, and Pero nearly falls to his knees at the depth of your emotions. He nods once and makes his way to his quarters, unlocking the door and walking inside as you snap your fingers to shut the door behind you.

He sets you down and gulps nervously, hands etching to strip you bare but waiting for permission to do so. You rest your forehead on his chest to quiet your mind, and when you are sure you can meet his piercing eyes once more, you raise your head and look at him. A faint glow of candle light dances shadows against the stone walls, the tension in the air simmering and threatening to overflow. You lock your gaze upon him, wishing to hear what he has dreamed of, hoping it is not too far from what your mind conjured up of him.

“What do you want?” You ask, allowing his presence to anchor you to the ground so you do not fall over from the proximity of his rigid body.

“I want…you.” Pero says, his hesitance born not from his feelings but the self-control he is fighting to maintain. “I have never felt as deep and as torturous a desire as I feel for you.” His confession pins you to him, and you suddenly feel like a prey ensnared with her predator, haunted by the thought of having him in such a way that the universe deemed unholy.

But how could such love be unholy, when all you seek to do is pray his name like a sweet benediction, and in turn, permit him to prostrate at your feet as he entreats for a glimpse of your affections.

Unable to bear the separation for another moment, you pull away and begin to undo the knots of your clothes. Pero bites into his lower lip, refusing to focus anywhere but your fingers as you unlace the fabric shielding you from his eyes. With each piece of fabric you throw onto the floor, Pero finds it a little more difficult to maintain himself, the last ounce of self-control threatening to evaporate into thin air.

Afraid of what he may do to you, he mirrors you and slowly unclothes himself, finding the fire in your eyes as heated and cardinal as the flame burning his soul. And when you are both left with nothing but your linen undergarments, Pero stretches his hand and takes hold of the band around your breasts, waiting until you nod to unwind it from your body. He slips his fingers beneath the white fabric and pushes it down, no longer able to keep his gaze appropriate as your skin is displayed for his hungry eyes. He looks at you, and he finds his mind conjuring up images of similar moments from a past life, ones that had him kiss and bite along the curve of your delicious breasts until you could not bear it any longer. He ceases to breathe altogether, returning his attention to your face as he steps closer to you and pushes your lower undergarment to the floor, finally allowing him to view you whole.

“You…you undo me. Every glance, every breath, every inch of you.” His voice quivers as he speaks, his hands grasping your waist and forcing you to shiver in return.

“Pero,” you place your hands across his chest, fisting the linen of his shirt and pushing it a little higher, signaling your need to see him. “I wish to see you…all of you.” You gulp anxiously, wanting to simultaneously rapidly surrender to him and slowly fall in his arms. His eyes darken, a mixture of determination and something more primal flickering in his gaze at your request sounding so melodious to his ears. He removes your hands from his chest and takes hold of the edge of his shirt, raising it high above his head and swinging it behind him as he stands in all his glory.

You finally allow yourself to properly view him, and you cannot help but gasp at the glory of his body, the muscles rippling when your gaze falls upon them and envision long nights of passion, soaked in sweat and pleasure.

“Goddess in heaven, you are…breathtaking.” You whisper, fingers training the sharp lines of his jaw, down to his neck and lower to his rigid stomach. His breath quickens beneath your touch, and you feel your heart threaten to beat out of your chest when he grasps your hand and pulls you against him, until your hard nipples brush against the hair on his chest.

“You have stolen the words from my lips.” Pero smirks at you, and you feel a bit dazed from the sudden, possessive touches, wishing he could end your misery then and there, push you down on all force and fill you with his gorgeous cock until you knew nothing but the sound of his name and the heat of his seed spilling inside you. You blink at him, distracted by thoughts of what he may do to you, only to find his grip loosening around your wrist and nearly pull away.

“Is there something on your mind?” Your voice drops, filled with worry at the thought of him doubting you.

“I- I do not wish to hurt you. I fear that should I…should we continue-” Pero hesitates for a moment, uncertainty creeping into his heart as he registers the dazed look about you due to his neediness. He fears what he may do should you continue to be so willing and pliant in his embrace. He knows, and remembers, all that you have done to each other centuries ago, but a part of him understands that this was then.

And you were here, now.

“I have wanted you, for so long mi cielo. I am unsure whether I can be gentle tonight.” You interrupt his train of thought, cupping his face with reverence, until his eyes focus on you once more, and ignore the flying doubts threatening to halt your union.

“You do not need to hold back,” you continue, voice assertive, yet filled with a desperate need that grows hotter the longer you remain so far from him, “not with me.”

“I do not need gentle, Pero. I need you.” You breathe with a finality, pressing your body closer to his until he sees and feels nothing but you. His lips part at your confidence, cock twitching at hearing what you crave from him.

“You will tell me to stop,” he says, voice laced with a warning that you know better than to ignore, “tell me to stop before I go too far.”

“I am yours, always.” your eyes never leave his, the trust between you simmering and reaching a zenith more powerful than any fear. He leans down, molding his lips with your own as he wraps his arms around your thighs and carries you, deepening the kiss when you cross your legs behind his back and swallow his moans. He kneels on the bed, but does not let go of you, slowly moving across the soft sheets until he lays you down against his pillows. You twist your head to the cushions beneath you, taking in Pero’s musk and filling your senses with his scent. He sits back and watches you lose yourself in him. Waiting for you to satisfy your cravings, Pero traces his fingers down your body, clenching his jaws tightly when he flicks a nipple and watches it pucker beneath his touch.

There is a glow about your skin that he cannot fathom, and he commits this moment to memory, wanting to create new visions grounded more in the present than the past.

“Your blood, it sings to me, mi bruja,” Pero groans, forcing a shudder across your very being as his words settle and pull you from your momentary haze. “I can hear it rushing to the surface, desperately pleading to touch my tongue.” He gives you no time to dwell on his promises, falling against you and attacking your neck with wet kisses and teasing bites. You drag your nails across his back, tangling your fingers in his hair as he holds onto you hard enough to brand you. Your scratches sends a new wave of pleasure down his spine, and he continues to lick and nip at your sternum, the top of your breasts, and at last, your hardened peaks. His fingers deftly pinch the other nipple, rolling it aggressively until you finally ask him what you have thought of since you knew who he was to you.

“Do it, please.” You moan, your body aching to feel his teeth sink deep within and drag your blood onto his tongue. He blows air against the cold, damp skin of your breasts, watching you squirm beneath him and shake with shameless lust.

“No, no little one. The first time my teeth sink into you,” he hums his pleasure against you, voice dark and seductive as he leaves a trail of bites down your stomach, “it will be when my cock is deep inside you, filling you with my seed.” He pushes your thighs apart, nesting his hips perfectly against you, his cock twitching against your heated core deliciously, the hard, velvety skin kissing your mound and silently asking it to wait…just a little bit more.

“Ohhhh g-gods,” your hands grip his shoulders tightly, and you muster up the courage to look down, wanting to watch his every move as he finally brings you to the deepest abyss.

“Por favor, mi hechicera, call for me. Call for me as you always have, as I have longed to hear again.” He urges as one hand descends down your body and draws patterns across your inner thighs while the other rests above your heart, wanting to hear it beat his name with each kiss he delivers to your flushed body.

“Pero,” you sigh longingly, the word slipping from your lips both like a prayer and a confession.

“Hmmm, again.” Pero groans, his touches growing more confident, reaching just a bit closer to where you ache for him. He roams his eyes across your body, finding the familiarity of your beauty melancholic yet intoxicating.

“P-Pero…oh-” Again, you moan his name with flagrant agony, suspended between pain and pleasure. He smiles at you then, watching as your spirit recognizes his own and reaches for some semblance of relief. When your eyes remember to open once more, Pero slips his fingers in between your folds and drags his middle finger twice to force your attention on him. You reach for the hand atop your breast, intertwining your fingers with his own and digging your heels into the sheets in preparation for what is to come. You mouth another plea, tears threatening to stream from your eyes as you feel another finger tease your entrance.

“Moan for me, little luna.” He commands, his teeth biting at your upper thigh as you flinch beneath him, the knowledge that he can bring your demise so easily soaking his fingers instantly.

“Please, touch me Pero.”

“Where would you like me to touch you?” Pero’s voice is rough with hunger, the beast within wishing to have you now etching to make himself known with each little whimper you gift him.

“Where I ache for you.” You attempt to bring yourself closer to his hand, fuck yourself on his fingers for some relief, but Pero shakes his head and pulls away, dragging your wetness across your thighs and pressing down on your hips to keep you still.

“Here,” he teases with a smirk, hands laying flat against your waist. “Or here?” He moves his fingers slowly across your stomach, just barely touching your skin, chuckling to himself when he sees how impatient you are becoming. “Perhaps…here.” Knowing he cannot hold back much longer, Tovar brings his hand back to your core, allowing you a single breath before he pushes two fingers deep inside your cunt.

“Yesssss, everywhere. Pero….everywhere.” You arch your back, lost in the sensation of his thick fingers as they prod at your inner walls. Torn between keeping your eyes on him and throwing your head back, you blink hazily at him until you can no longer maintain his gaze, the golden rings suddenly taking over his orbs driving your ecstasy further.

“Do you want more, my love?” He kisses your navel, nosing at the skin and breathing in your scent. His senses flood with your essence, and he drives his fingers deeper, pushing against a place that has you squirming beneath him and reaching for his arms.

“Please, Pero.”

“I have waited for this for centuries,” Pero murmurs, his voice raw with longing.

“As have I.” You barely manage to breathe the sentiment, unable to focus on much else apart from the pleasure he continues to ring from your body.

“You are exquisite.” You push your head aside, biting into the sheets to prevent more noises from spilling into the room. Tovar pouts at your timidity, and he stops moving altogether until you manage to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “No, do not shy away from me, mi bruja.” He feels the heat rise between you, and he drags himself lower, until you feel his breath fan over your wet cunt.

“Let me have you, querida.” He groans, knowing that you both have waited a lifetime to feel this intimacy once more. When you nod your consent, Pero dives into you, tongue licking at the sensitive nub until your nails dig roughly into the skin of his forearm.

“Nghhh,” you gasp in shock, the strength with which Pero delivers each stroke of his tongue signaling the ferocity of his desire, the wet movement igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through your body and leave you trembling under his unrelenting touch. You whine his name, along with incoherent thoughts, one that has you wishing he could somehow sink deeper into you.

“Does that feel good?” His touch is possessive, as dominating and rough as his voice. You wonder how you have passed through life without feeling this each night, but you pay the sadness no mind, wanting to relish in finally being in his arms.

“Hmm,” you instinctively respond to him, skin rising with goosebumps as he wraps his lips around your aroused peak, grazing his teeth across the small muscle until he feels you lose your mind.

“That taste of you…it drives me mad with need, amor.” Pero confesses as he tongues at your folds, driving his fingers harder and quicker inside you until your walls begin to flutter around him, pulling him in deeper with each pass he expertly delivers to your weeping core.

“I can feel you, embracing my fingers, growing more heated and—tight.” The growl that escapes his throat is enough to push you higher to the edge, the desire laced in his words and his actions letting you know this was only the beginning. You look at him then, finding his golden eyes trained directly at you. The knowledge that such a powerful man has willingly chosen to surrender himself to you is intoxicating and you pray for him one last time, finding your past, present, and future in the intensity of his gaze.

“Pero, I-...I’m,” you stammer, the pressure building inside you threatening to spill over against his mouth. He does not let up once, continuing his ministrations until he feels you clench around him even tighter.

“Fall apart for me, amor.” Tovar commands softly, allowing himself a moment of respite before he returns his attention to your warm cunt. “Let me taste your pleasure—now.”

The order comes in between thick laps of his tongue against your folds and harsh thrusts of his digits into your aching core, the sensations overwhelming you until you are powerless. With a few more brushes of his fingers against your quivering walls, you submit yourself to the pleasure, a silent scream signaling your climax to Tovar, the expression of ecstasy on your glowing features forcing him to continue pulling more from your body.

He maintains his gaze upon you, his fingers halting as far inside you as he can reach until he feels a soft spot push against him. He rubs against the swollen bit of you a few times, enclosing his lips around your flushed pearl one last time and sucking as hard as he can. Had his arm not been against your chest, Tovar is sure you would have flown from him, and he maintains his strength against you as you continue coming in his arms, sobbing his name over and over again until he sees your tears wet his sheets.

Not wanting to turn the pleasure uncomfortable, he stops his attention and raises himself from your thighs, slowly slipping his fingers from your core and watching as more wetness seeps out of you.

“You are radiating.” Pero comments, waiting for your eyes to find him before dragging his fingers across his tongue and licking them dry. You let go of his arm and reach for your cunt, covering it with your hands embarrassingly as you attempt to sit up and feel his skin slide against yours. Might it be because of me?” The question is asked before you find his lips and slip your tongue inside his mouth, tasting your arousal on his lips and moaning at the filthy nature of what the two of you are doing.

“You- you know as well as I this is all for you, because of you.” You reply as you kiss across his chest, marveling at the sheer power hiding beneath the scars and muscles on display for your hungry eyes. Sneaking a glance at him, you wait until his golden eyes shine brighter before dragging your hand down his stomach.

“Ahh, b-brujita-” he moans in return, the warmth and softness of your palm holding him hard enough to have his cock still twitch against you. He kisses your temple as he shuts his eyes, feeling your touches grow more confident and teasing.

“Why do you enjoy calling me a witch so…sinfully?” You giggle when he hisses through gritted teeth, your fingers rolling his base right as you drag your nails to the flushed tip of his member.

“B-because you have spun your—oh, your spells upon my heart, bewitching it with your- your soft touches, and sweet words.” Pero admits desperately, his hands resting against your shoulders as you slide your hand back and forth.

“I do not recall doing such intricate designs…amor.” Your smile does wonders to him, the playfulness of your pleasure allowing him to remember nights he thought he could never recall again. Then you use his language, and he feels as if the world around him is passing away into nothing.

“No? T-then explain how madly bewitched I am by your very soul.” There is longing laced around his simple confession, and you cannot help but pull him against you, wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him passionately as he pushes you against the bed.

“Pero,” the heat you feel in your core intensifies, but you know you want, more than anything, to hold the weight of his cock on your tongue before he takes you.

“Ahhh, hermosa- por favor, sácame de mi miseria.” You push him on his back and he falls willingly, fingers twisting in your hand instantly when he sees you descend down his body and continue teasing his cock.

“Will you let me have you as well?” You ask, kissing and nipping down his body, never once breaking his gaze as you lick down his navel and breathe against the base of his cock, waiting for him to give you permission.

“You do not need-” He begins to say but you cut him off with a kiss to the tip of his cock, claiming his as yours. The action shocks him into silence, and he throws his head back, revealing the sharp canines he tries his best to keep in hiding.

“Let me taste your cock on my lips, please!” You beg, mouth and hand aching to feel him against you.

“Soy tuyo.” He sighs in defeat, resting his thumb against your lips and rubbing the plump skin twice before nodding in acceptance. Not a second passes before your mouth wraps completely around him, and Pero is sure he has died and gone to the highest of heavens, the warmth of your throat proving to him that such wonders do exist.

“Ahhh diablilla,” his breath comes in ragged gasps, fingers twisting into your hair again as you look at him and continue to take him as far down as you could. A mixture of his arousal and your saliva streams down your chin, and Pero whines when he sees you drag it across the rest of him and massage his base, not caring for how filthy you may look.

“You look beautiful…with your lips wrapped around my cock.” He groans, hands tightening on your neck as you move your head up and down the length of him. When you are sure will not turn away, you lightly pass your teeth against the crown of his cock, watching as his hips push forward unintentionally and send him deeper inside you.

“How far are you willing to go to make me lose my sanity, woman?” He snarls at you, shaking his head in disbelief as you continue to pleasure you, as you know. You smirk as you worship him, removing your mouth from his velvety, hard skin for a moment to respond and returning your touches again to prevent him from retorting in kind.

“Far,” your eyes meet his with a spark of defiance and mischief, and Tovar is powerless beneath you, completely and utterly powerless.

“I- I fear you may not have to…I- I am,” he stammers, groaning in unbelievable rapture as he imagines what your cunt must feel like if your mouth flutters around his length like an angel’s wings.

“I cannot take much more, love…you feel too- too heavenly.” Pero admits shamelessly, his body trembling with the overwhelming sensations coursing through his veins. You shake your head then, watching as the action spirals him back against the bed once more.

“I thought I was your little devil?” You respond, kissing along his wet cock and watching as he fights to maintain some semblance of control.

“Oh god…the devil was once an angel, querida.” His voice is strained with need, and you are unsure if he wishes for you to continue or halt.

“If I am an angel, then you must be my god…my master.” You whisper to him then, moving your hands across him and pressing your breasts near the reddened tip to prove to him you are as dazed, if not more, by his existence as he appears to be by your own.

“No…no little one, it is you who is the master of this lonely heart. You and no one else.” You do not expect such a heartfelt revelation to break through the wanton desires swimming in his golden eyes, the words forcing you to stop altogether as you memorize the somber and hopelessly-in-love features gazing at you.

“Come here!” Pero uses your momentary distraction to his advantage, dragging you against his body and pushing you beneath him once more, nesting his hips perfectly in between your thighs and snatching both of your wrists above your head.

“But I-” you begin, but he silences you with a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily until he can taste his arousal in your mouth. The knowledge that you both swallowed the other’s essence deep inside of you sends his heart into a frenzy, and you must reach a similar conclusion because you respond to his vigor with as much madness, swirling your tongue around his own and praying he can finally put you out of your misery and take you.

“Another twist of your tongue and I would have lost myself in your mouth.” He warns as he kisses your jaw, laughing when he hears you question him through a fit of giggles.

“Is that so bad?”

“No, but if I am finally having you, then I am coming in your pretty cunt first…and then I will fill your other holes. ¿Me entiendes?” His voice drops with desire, eyebrows raised in determination as you finally allow his words to settle in your mind.

“Pero, take me. Now…and do not dare to be gentle.” You plead, burning with a need to feel his cock brand your cunt as his.

“I want you to ruin me,” you confess, hands balling into fists as you attempt to loosen his grip from around you. He growls at your request, letting go of your arms and smiling when your arms reach around his back in an attempt to pull him closer to you. “And put me back together…with your touch etched on every inch of my skin.”

“You will tell me if-” You cut him off one last time with a fierce kiss, nodding when you release him and reach for his cock.

“Look at me,” he drags your attention away from the space between your bodies to his golden eyes, staring at you closely until he ensures you are focusing on nothing but him. “And know that I am never letting you go.” His demand is low and full of promise, and before you can answer him, he removes your hand from his length and drags it twice across your folds, not wasting another moment before pushing himself into your tightening walls.

“F-fuck,” the expletive would shock him had he not known you, and he rests his weight against his hands, sheathing himself completely inside you until there is nothing but the air separating your bodies. He waits for you to breathe, and when he is sure you have adjusted to him, he pulls out as far as he can before pushing back inside with a groan.

“You are…my desires incarnate.” He groans, one hand gripping your hips as the other fists into the sheets beneath your head.

“Your cock is—it feels like a fire blazing inside of me. Hot, heavy and s-so fucking hard.” Your body arches towards him, and you cannot help but lose yourself in his eyes as his thrusts deliver with a steady, roughening pace. Your words undo him, and he cannot control his body from pushing harder into you, the feeling of your cunt, so warm and inviting, making him wish he can stay attached to you forever.

“I feel you in my soul, my love.” He nudges his nose against your chin, breathing heavily as your fingers tug on his hair and beg him for more.

“Ohhh, yes!”

Your cries match his groans, and as you find that familiar pleasure build once more, you are met with a vision not unlike the one you are experiencing now, one that has you looking forward to all the nights you would share with Pero now that you found him again.

“Your cunt is heaven, as if you were made for me. I fear I will never get enough of you.” Pero shakes his head as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, finger bruising your skin as your sighs grow louder in his ears.

“You have…completely undone me, Pero.” Your gasps are music to his ears, and he feels your core clench harder around him, pulling him in deeper with each push of his hips.

“How is that,” he asks, his voice gruff with need, “I can feel your heartbeat,” you tilt your head to the side as he sucks on your neck and marks you as his, “each time you clench around me?”

“Please,” unable to form more words, you plead for him to finally drink from you, wanting to be connected to him in every way possible.

“Has your body learned my touch already, mi bruja?” He chuckles at you then, watching as your skin comes alive the more he shapes your cunt to his length.

“Does it remember my cock when- oh fuck, when it claimed you time after another all those years ago?” His hand caresses down your side, until it rests against your thigh and pushes it higher. You cross your legs behind his back, his cock filling you deliciously.

“Pero, you are killing me.”

“No, little one, I am calling for your witch’s blood to pray for me.” His whole being is raw with need, and he grows crazed when your body responds to his madness and glows for him.

“Oh, she likes to hear how I crave her?” You want to sob at his teasing, but with each word he whispers to you, you feel yourself growing closer to the edge of release.

“Does that please you—knowing that, when I fill you with my seed, and keep you in my arms forever, that your witch will be ruined for all eternity? Does that make you wet, mi bruja traviesa?”

“Yes, oh- oh gods, Pero, please. Claim me!” You cry out at the sentiment, body shuddering with anticipation of what you are confident will be the greatest pleasure known to the world.

“Lord knows how fucking gratifying it will feel to have your blood course through my veins…knowing that I have feasted upon you, mierda- ah mierda…until you have ruined me.” His growls increase, as do his thrusts, and when you turn to look at him and find his eyes no longer golden but red, you beg him one last time, knowing he will not turn you down once more.

“I- I am close…so close.”

“Where can I-” He stares at your skin, unsure of where you would rather hold evidence of his bite. There is madness storming in his eyes, one that has you cutting him off and telling him to do whatever he wishes with you.

“Wherever you desire, my love.”

“I…love you, my beautiful witch. With every part of me capable of knowing such a feeling.” He confess, his hands trembling as he wraps his hand around your neck and tilts your head far back so he can gain access to the top of your breasts. Your body is prepared to explore in pleasure, and when you feel him kiss the top of your nipple twice, you ask him to join you.

“Pero, be with me.”

The moment his teeth pierce your sink, a strangely familiar warmth washes over your body, and you flutter around his cock instantly, the pleasure of your coupling and his feeding blinding your sight and sending you into a state of ecstasy you long to experience again already. You can hear him groan against you, his seed filling your womb with long, hot ropes of warmth that mirrors the heat beating against your chest. He gulps you down hungrily, enough to satiate the desire he feels for you but not to send you into a sleep. When he is sure he has had his fill of you, he clenches his jaw and pulls away, licking the wound twice to prevent it from bleeding any further.

Pero looks at you then, a part of him afraid of how you may react when you find the beast in him wanting for more. But as you always have, you caress his cheek gently and pull him down, kissing his lips one last time as you finally whisper those words to him.

“I l-love you Pero, oh so much.”

He nearly cries at the sentiment, unsure of what good he has done in his life that deserves such affections from you. Slowly, he pulls himself away from your body, wincing in discomfort when the sudden lack of your heat washes over him. You pout in return, wanting to remain filled with him until the morning, but knowing that you both needed a moment of respite if you were to continue through the night.

Pero falls to his back, not wasting a moment as he pulls you to his side, until you are intertwined in each other. Neither of you say anything, and Pero meditates on the words you whispered to him seconds ago, wondering if you were merely remembering your past or truly meant what you have conveyed to him.

The room feels suspended in time, the air heavy with the revelations you parted to one another throughout the night. He leans over and urges you with a question.

“What can you remember?” He asks then, wanting to know, more than anything, if you recall him the way he knows you.

“I feel as if I- I remember everything.” You look up at him and smile, fingers drawing patterns across his damp chest, wanting to be sure you were still in his arms.

“Tell me,” his breath fans over your temple as he kisses you once, reutrning the smile on your features and waiting to hear your response.

“I remember your eyes, how safe they always made me feel. And I remember your touch, the way you tended to be soft when you loved me, and the roughness you brought when you craved me.” Your heart pounds as you recall the visions that have plagued your mind for weeks on end. And Pero’s lips part, but no words escape him. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as you continue to prove to him that, whatever your heart knows now, is more important that what you have felt for him before.

“Most of all, I remember how deeply you loved me and how I could not breathe without being in your arms.”

The silence stretches between you, heavy and intimate with promises of what is to come. When you speak again, your voice is tinged with an almost unbearable sadness, afraid of what his answer will be to the question that plagued your spirit for a while now.

“Where will you go…when this is all over?”

“I will find those responsible for our lost time,” his jaw is set with determination, tone cold and resolute when he offers you nothing but the truth.

“And I will kill every last one of them.” Your brows knit together when you see pain flicker across his face, the memories of what your kind and his have done to you pushing you to ask one last request of him.

“Let me come with you.” Your hand brushes against his, playing with the veins on his wrist as you wait for a response.

“I cannot, mi corazón.” He shakes his head and silently apologizes to you when he sees anguish etched into your very soul.

“Please?”

“Have I not promised you long ago that these hands were for you? That I would do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” He cups your cheek, the smile he aims at you letting you know that there is a future for the both of you when he is finished with his mission.

“Can I not offer you the same promise?” You lean into his touch, wanting to prove to him that, just as his hands are for you, your magic is for him, and him alone.

“Everything I do, my love, is for you. My anger, my wrath, my revenge…it is all for you. I will raise hell on earth if anyone strives to separate us once more. Why would you bloody your hands, when I care not for my own?” Tovar says firmly, wanting you to be certain that his love and loyalty will never pass away again, that he will surely return to your side when he is confident no one means you any harm.

“Because, Pero…I never understood love until I felt your hands on me, and I want your hands to carry my heart. But for you to do so, I must ask the same in return. I must drench my hands in the same blood, if only to feel worthy of caring for such a gift from you.” Your voice softens his expression, and you pray to the old gods that he sees how far you are willing to go to keep him safe from harm.

“You wish to carry my heart, when you yourself are my heart?” A storm of emotions swirls around his question, and he leans down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss once more, shaking with the thought of ever putting you in danger again.

“Pero,” you hold his gaze then, once again knowing that he will not refuse you now that he sees you are just as wanting to rid the world of those who hurt you as he is.

“Sí, mi amor?” He breathes, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Let me protect you as you once protected me.” You say with determination, and watch as his eyes struggle to comprehend your request.

“Please, my love. Let me.”

“I could never deny you any request.” With a sigh of defeat, he chuckles at you and nods in agreement, closing his eyes and surrendering to the knowledge that you will always hold him powerless in the palm of your hand.

“Mi alma, you are too entangled in my soul for me to ever be apart from you. Whatever you desire, you have it.”

“Te amo, mi bruja.” He murmurs, voice thick with emotion, and heart even heavier with the love he sees etched, not just in your eyes, but your very existence.

“And I love you.” Your words are a promise, a bond unbroken by time or circumstance, one that you solidify with a kiss to his heart before you allow the Luxor night air to lull you to sleep.

Translation: Maga - mage Bruja - witch Hechicera - Sorceress/enchantress Capulla - dumbass Querida - dear Hermosa - beautiful Luna - moon Cielo - heaven Cariño - darling/sweetheart Alma - spirit Vida - life Amor - love Corazón - heart Sácame de mi miseria - put me out of my misery Soy tuyo - I am yours Diablilla - little devil ¿Me entiendes? - Do you understand me? Bruja traviesa - naughty witch Mierda - shit

Pedro Pascal Taglist (and any of his characters):

@paste-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @wordsnwhiskey @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @marsplsstop @ezrasbirdie @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul @bii-aan-ckaa @nohartandsole @djjarins @giselatropicana @maziken @blackmarketmummy @laviipopii @ew-erin @fan-of-encouragement @melody13522 @clydesducktape @planetariumx @thirddeadlysin @leannawithacapitala @fangirl-316 @thou-creature-of-the-deep @what-iwish-you-knew @nabootycall @pascalsky @pedrostories @anaaaispunk @monocromaticstaircase @severinsnape @elegantduckturtle @gothicxbarbie @revengeisaconfesionofpain @hypnoash @pedritopascalito @eri16 @andiesturgss @snarwor @christina-loves @tintinn16 @persephones-garden @reaperofmen @heykathchuu @hotchlover @kaumalade @MSWarriorBabe80 @nakhudanyx @ezras-channel-rat @solemnlyswearss @thegirlnextdoorssister @alpaca-swimsuit @elinedjarin @yuukiblissthemusicwitch @dihra-vesa @pscalwhiskey @midwesternwitchery @daddymando @letskeepthislo-ki @xwalltoast @alexxavicry @ewoksrus @dear-fifi @nagassia @kirsteng42 @s-u-t @yourdragonsfire @girlofchaos @thisshipwillsail316 @squidwell @the-helmet-stays-on @mssbridgerton @buckybarneshairpullingkink @hungrhay @hugmedin @balck-rose-29 @trickstersp8 @happycupcakeenthusiast @daddypedritopascalito @onlinecementery @janebby @domaniquessidehoe @cassiepascal @lillianacristina @bitchwitch1981 @hallecarey1 @vee-bees-vlog @riddlelecter

P.S. If someone can let me know whether the tags are working, I would really appreciate it!!!

#pedrostoriesgift24 #pedrostories #pero tovar #pero tovar/reader #pero tovar x reader #vampire pero tovar #witch reader #vampire/reader #vampire x reader #pedro pascal #the great wall #tovar x reader #tovar/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar smut

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asthmaticplushiedragon · 2 days ago

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OC time!!!

Hope, Trust, Longing, Dread and Rage are characters in a webcomic I hope to one day write, called Letters of Sorrow.

The five of them are workers in a company called Spirit Express. It's a mail company like no other, that delivers emotions and feelings in the form of letters. They operate world wide, all day, every day, and in return receive special powers, such as invisibility, intangibility, and immortality. But seeing as the company is a secret, every worker has to give up the lives they once had and forget their past. It's a (mostly) painless procedure, and the rewards are worth it! But not just anyone can do it.

You're welcome to send questions to me or the characters, more information about each of them under the cut!

!The drawings below show blood, detailed injury and death! (Injuries include self harm, stabbing and gun wounds)

In Spirit Express, every worker represents a different emotion. The emotion has three "embodiments", each in a different department of the company. The worker called "Happiness" from Headquarters is right above the ones called Happiness from Research and Delivery. But while Research and Delivery meet in a daily basis, people from Headquarters almost never meet the other two departments. The line of work is HQ to R to HQ again and then to D. Headquarters give Research the name and basic information about the addressee, Research write down everything they can find about the person, and then Headquarters create the desired letter. Then Delivery makes sure the letter gets to it's place. Hope is the main character of the story. He's sixteen, and the sunshine of the group. He's a proud mailman, delivering letters of hope to their addressees. As the embodiment of hope in the company, he has a tendency to day dream of endless possibilities. Hope doesn't remember much from his life before he started working in Spirit Express, but that doesn't matter! He likes his job and his roommates, and he has everything he needs in life!

Longing is nineteen, and a mailwoman. She is considered the dreamer of the group, although when you get to know her you find she can be rather sassy and even harsh. She knows she was engaged or married before, because of the ring on her finger. But she figured that, if the girl she was before chose to give it up, it was probably not worth it. Still, sometimes she finds herself looking at roses and longing for a life she never knew.

Dread is twenty-two, a mailman, and a Jew. He knows that only because of the Kippah on his head, and he tries to learn about his culture. Just for scholar reasons, of course, nothing more. He's not really sure why he's the embodiment of dread, but he's sure Headquarters have their reasons. For now, though, he just tries to do his job best and make sure all letters of dread reach their addressees.

Trust is eighteen, and a workaholic. She works as a researcher. Trust is very thankful for only being responsible for the letters about her emotion, because even now she can hardly keep up and has to pull one all-nighter after another. She always says that she would trade her position with one of the mailmen in a moment, but actually enjoys her job. And she knows that, somewhere in the company's archive, there's probably an essay someone wrote about her old life.

Rage is kind of a mystery to his roommates. He's nine, and doesn't talk much at all. All they know is that he works in Headquarters, but since he leaves before they wake up and comes back after they're fast asleep, they don't meet him much. He makes them pancakes every weekend, tho.

Send questions!

#Letters of Sorrow #oc #oc art #my ocs #jewish oc #LoS Hope #LoS Longing #LoS dread #LoS Trust #LoS Rage #tw self harn #tw blood #tw death #tw gunshot

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potatoplace · 18 hours ago

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Get Cozy Since We're Both Lonely

Welcome To The Family: Chapter 1 | series masterlist

chapter 2 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Nesta x Reader

Story Summary: You lost your family in the attack on Velaris by Hybern. Nesta lost her humanity and gained a tremendous amount of trauma. Together you find a grand romance between yourselves, and an unwavering commitment to help each other.

Warnings: smut-ish, smut-lite maybe? Nothing too graphic, but a looot of kissing, very horny lol

Words: ~7k

Author's Note: oh my goooood I love this SO MUUUCH SAPPHIC NESTA YES PLEASE THANK YOU BRAIN. I would very much like to have Nesta as my wifey, thank you very much. I hope you all like this! A very different vibe than what I've been writing recently lol. But yesss enjoy my sweet Nesta being treated like the lovely person that she is! (Also this ended up sooo much longer than I expected) - oh and series name is a Watsky song, and the chapter title name is lyrics from it 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

She was beautiful.

Gorgeous.

Ethereal.

A goddess brought before you, rendered into flesh, perusing the stacks of your bookstore nearly every day.

The eldest sister of your High Lady had utterly captivated you from the moment you had met her, her presence never failing to draw your eyes.

She was breathtaking, yes, but it was everything about her that kept your attention. Her tastes in literature, her coffee order - two shots of espresso poured over ice - the way she dressed, how she always had her hair pulled up, her laugh, her voice.

Each new thing you learned about her, saw in her stunning blue gray eyes made you more interested in Nesta, filling your thoughts with her.

Never before had you felt infatuated with another female, though you had felt an attraction towards some.

But Nesta?

Your thoughts revolved around her visits to your bookstore, each day spent hoping that she would walk in.

It had only been a few months since you had first met Nesta, and only a few months before that since you had lost your family.

The attack on Velaris had stolen your family from you, leaving you in charge of the bookstore and coffee shop that your family had so happily run for generations.

And now it was just you.

Meeting Nesta had been the first good thing to happen to you since that fateful day, her husky voice asking if you carried any romance novels.

From those words alone, you were a goner.

An instant blush had covered your face as you led her over to said section, reluctantly leaving her to browse the titles you carried.

You wanted to know what titles interested her.

Romance had been your own favorite genre since you had been a teenager, only a decade ago. Not what your family had teased you about them being - primarily sex with no plot. No, you preferred soft writing, filled with the gentle building of feelings and, yes, occasionally ending with a few scenes of smut. But the buildup was what you preferred, and the faithful love that the characters had built between them.

And to your absolute delight, Nesta was the same. She even binge read your favorite series, Enchanted, within a week, returning every day to pick up the next book.

Each day, you felt as though her fingers brushed against yours for slightly longer, lingering as she took her receipt.

But you weren't brave enough to ask her if she felt the same overwhelming attraction and interest that you held for her. You knew that there were some fae who enjoyed the company of the same sex, but Nesta had once been a human, and you weren't sure of how accepting they were.

So you stayed quiet, drinking in every second of her presence, giving her free refills of coffee when she chose to stay and read in one of the cozy armchairs you had in front of the fireplace.

Every day you saw her kept your mind off the gaping void in your chest, filling you with warmth. The only other thing that came close to the same effect as Nesta had was the novels that had become your life. Every new book that passed into your store caught your attention, giving you something to fill your mind with.

Today has been hard. Eight months since your family had been slaughtered, and the sky was weeping with you. Hardly any customers had entered your building, for which you were thankful. Your eyes were blurry more often than they weren't, tears slipping down your face, so similarly to the rain sliding down the windows.

Rarely did you drink, but you found yourself at Rita's that night, looking for something to soothe your pain in a way that written words could not. Two vodka cranberries later, and the noise of the bar had become a pleasant thing, your head bobbing to the music.

Someone slid onto the stool next to you. "I'll have a gin and tonic, please," the familiar, rich voice said from your left.

A turn of your head confirmed that it was Nesta who had sat next to you, dressed in a high necked, long sleeved dark purple dress. Your could just see her black heeled boots, hooked on the bar of the stool.

As usual, she looked fantastic. Her hair was braided and pinned into a crown around her head, her eyes sparkling with a bit of pale lavender eyeshadow.

"Hello, Y/N. I've never seen you in here before," Nesta said once she had noticed your eyes on her.

"Ah, I uhm... I don't go out too often, anymore," you replied, your voice a bit shaky. "Do you come here often?"

"Every now and then, when I don't feel like spending my evenings in solitude," Nesta explained, the hints of a smile starting to show. "And I should feel lucky, then, that I happened to be here the same night you decided to come out."

"Oh?" You asked, a bit of heat rising to your cheeks. "Have you been hoping to see me here?"

The hints had turned to a full blown grin, a stunning sight on her.

You would do anything to see it again.

"As a matter of fact, I have. I wanted to ask you about something," Nesta said, a hint of... heat? In her voice.

You bit your lip. "And?"

Nesta's eyes flicked away from yours briefly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Your heartbeat quickened, more blood coming to your cheeks. Before her? You had hoped. After her? You knew. "I do."

Nesta's eyes crinkled, warmth flooding them. "That's funny, I do too." The bartender set Nesta's drink in front of her, and she took a long sip. "I wasn't sure about it for a while, but I think I'm convinced now."

"Really? What changed?" You asked, slightly breathless, both from anticipation and having drank more than you had in couple of months.

Nesta's soft laugh had you melting, your body leaning in her direction, breathing in a bit of her snow and fire scent - quite possibly more intoxicating than the drinks you'd had.

"You. I can't- I have never wanted to be around someone, or wanted someone as much as I want you," Nesta breathed, blush coloring her cheeks as she stared into your eyes, her confession hanging between the two of you.

A smile spread across your lips. "That's good, perfect, actually. I feel the same, Nesta," you admitted, drinking in the way her eyes lit up at your words.

"I'm glad to hear that we're in agreement," Nesta said, finishing the rest of her drink before standing. "Dance with me?" She asked, holding out one of her elegant hands for you to take.

You did in a heartbeat, savoring the warmth of her hand in yours.

You were an awful dancer, but with Nesta next to you, those soft laughs and shining eyes directed at you, you didn't mind embarrassing yourself a bit. Not when she kept pulling you in close, your chests pressed together, lips hovering an inch apart as you gazed up at her, your eyes locked together.

The night passed in a blur of dancing and stumbling back to your apartment, arms locked tightly together in the cool May night. Into your bookstore, past the coffee bar, bookshelves, up the stairs and into your apartment.

Somehow you ended up on the couch, both of you barefooted, hands hovering over each other - afraid to make first contact.

"I... I've never... Done this," Nesta gestured between you. "Before."

You could hear the nerves in her voice now that you were alone together, in the quiet of your living room.

"I haven't either," you admitted with a shy smile. "But it... Are you okay?"

Nesta's lips tilted up. "I'm okay. Just... a tad nervous," she whispered.

Your nose scrunched when your smile widened. "I am too. We can be nervous together," you giggled, happy to see Nesta's expression matching your own. You let your hands touch her, one resting on her right shoulder, the other falling to her left arm, a thumb rubbing over the soft fabric of her dress. Nesta's eyes flicked down before returning to your face, a light blush crawling over her cheeks.

She let her own arms fall over your shoulders, hands toying with the curls of your hair, nails brushing gently against your scalp. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the sensation sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

When they opened again, Nesta's face was closer, her eyes darting down to your lips.

You took the plunge, bringing your lips to hers. Soft, plush, exactly how you'd imagined they would feel. It was a kiss just like those you had read about, gentle and tender, full of hope and longing. You let your arms encircle Nesta as she pulled your closer, one of her hands gently fisted in your hair and the other pressing against your back.

When you parted, it was just barely, your lips hovering next to each other as you breathed in the same air, cheeks flushed as your eyes met.

"I think... Being nervous together is a good idea," Nesta breathed, a giggle leaving your lips.

"I agree." You kissed her again, this one just as sweet but firmer, more sure. Your mouths fit perfectly together, moving in tandem without a thought, only pulling away to reposition. Nesta gently pulled you over her lap, your legs straddling hers, lips returning to yours as soon as you were settled, chests pressed together. Her hands returned to your hair, keeping you close as your own cradled the back of her head.

You couldn't get enough of her, get close enough to her. And it seemed as though she was in the same state, keeping you pulled into her even when you parted for breath.

It was when one of her hands snaked underneath your shirt, running up the line of your spine that you let out a soft gasp, hand clutching at her shoulder. Your cheeks somehow colored further, but Nesta seemed delighted by the noise. Her fingers feathered over your spine again, eyes drinking in the way yours fluttered from her touch.

"Sensitive?" She asked, her voice deep, needy.

"Mhm." A scrape of her fingernails had your spine arching, pressing you further against her. "Not fair," you mumbled.

"Mm, you'll just have to find my sweet spots, love," Nesta whispered lowly in your ear. She pressed a gentle kiss to it, then a slow trail down your neck, hand continuing its slow path along your spine.

"Is that a challenge?" You asked breathily, tilting your neck to give her better access.

"More like an invitation."

Your heart stuttered. "I'll definitely be taking you up on that," you whispered, a soft moan leaving your lips when Nesta's lips sucked on your neck gently.

Your head dropped to her shoulder, arms tightening around her. You felt like jelly already, and you hadn't even taken your clothes off.

"Which way to the bedroom, Y/N?" Nesta asked once she relinquished your neck, peppering small kisses along it.

"Mm... Behind the couch," you said, distracted by how intoxicating Nesta was proving herself to be.

Nesta chuckled softly into your ear. "Care to show me?"

You pulled away from her slightly, meeting her eyes. Absolutely stunning, and full of lust. You nodded, and managed to pull yourself off of her, albeit reluctantly. In the few seconds it took to lead her into your bedroom, you missed her warmth and gentle touch.

The faelights in your room came to life as you entered, softly illuminating your room.

You were glad you had made your bed this morning.

Nesta's hands on your waist turned you around, pulling you back into her and into a kiss, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

The alcohol still running through your veins made it easy to pull it off of you, leaving your breasts covered in just a bralette, Nesta's fingers quickly running over the fabric.

"You are absolutely stunning," Nesta said softly. "And you'll have to let me know where you got this," she demanded as she tugged on one of the straps with one hand.

"I think you'll like the matching panties then, too," you giggled, pulling her lips to yours.

"Oh really? How about we find out?" Nesta asked, gently pushing you to the bed, a playful fire in her eyes.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you said, letting her push you onto the bed, her body following soon after.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Waking was a slow process, your bed warmer and cozier than you ever remembered it being.

It was only when you registered soft breathing coming from in front of you that you remembered the previous night, a smile coming to your lips.

Nesta.

Your eyes fluttered open, met with the sight of her sleeping in front of you. You felt her arm draped over your side, hand against your back.

You had never felt more comfortable or at peace.

Still, the light filtering in through the curtains told you it was past the time you normally woke to open the bookstore, and you had to slowly pull yourself from Nesta's grasp, much to your dismay.

You would much rather stay here, wrapped up with her forever.

You had just finished washing up and dressing in the bathroom when you heard Nesta moving about. Opening the door, you saw that she had sat up in your bed, sheets pulled to her chest.

"Morning," you said quietly as you left the bathroom, standing between it and the bed, unsure of how to proceed.

"Morning, Y/N," Nesta said, her voice still thick with sleep.

You bit your lip, wishing in that moment that you could read minds. "So... Do..." you paused. "Do you want to do this again?"

Nesta blinked at you a few times, before a small smile slid across her face. "I'd like that," she answered quietly. She almost seemed... Shy.

"How about... tonight?" You asked, delighted when she immediately shook her head yes.

"I'd love that, Y/N. When should I come by?"

"Mm, I normally close the store around six, so you could come by then. Would... Would you like to go to dinner?"

"That sounds lovely, Y/N. Six it is," Nesta confirmed, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

"Perfect, Nesta. I've got to go open the shop, but feel free to bathe if you'd like. I'll see you downstairs," you said, a smile glued to your face as you took in your last look at her before you left the room.

Her hair was still in its style from last night, but strands of it were poking out in some places.

She took your breath away, even when ruffled by sleep.

Opening the store went smoothly, luckily with no customers already waiting outside.

Less than half an hour later, Nesta came downstairs, clothed again in her dress from last night, looking just as beautiful.

"Coffee?" You asked, already making her usual drink for her.

"Yes, please," she sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "I don't think I drank enough water last night," she said with a soft laugh, warmth rushing straight to your heart.

"I'll make sure you do in the future," you said lightly.

Nesta smiled at you, her eyes crinkling. "I'd like that."

You bit your lip as you grinned at her, passing her coffee over, your hand lingering on hers. "I'll see you tonight?"

Nesta nodded. "I'll see you tonight, Y/N."

She left your store, taking one last glance over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.

You were grinning like an idiot, absolutely thrilled with how well last night had went, no matter how unexpected it had been.

Your date that night went perfectly, ending with the two of you snuggled up in bed after a vigorous make out session, both of you too tired to do much more.

The two of you ended up going to dinner the next night.

And the next.

Soon enough, you had spent an entire month together, wrapped in each other's presences. You could safely say you were falling for her, or had fallen for her, or that you were madly in love with her already. All of them were true, as your love continued to grow each and every day, with every passing second you spent with her.

One of your favorite memories so far was yesterday, when the two of you had a picnic by the Sidra, a soft blanket spread out beneath you and a basket loaded full of your favorite pastries, cheeses, fruit, and smoked meats, and a bottle of sparkling wine that the two of you shared.

Together you had read the newest romance novel to arrive at your shop, spending the entire day together with the babbling of the river as your chosen music.

Eventually the two of you had packed up and gone back to her apartment, her large bathtub the most recent place you had made love.

Over your perfect first month together, you had noticed... Nesta seemed to be struggling. There were days that she couldn't keep a train of thought, wrapped up in the memories that you assumed were not pleasant ones. Sometimes she snapped at you over the smallest things, normally something to do with noise.

You never blamed her, knowing that she had gained an entirely new set of senses in the past year... But you wanted to love her. To help her. In any way that you could.

So today, after much prodding and gentle suggestion, you were taking Nesta to the office your own therapist worked at.

Not to your therapist, of course, but to one of the many other trusted trauma mind healers that Velaris had.

"You said I can leave if I want, right?" Nesta asked, her voice a bit shaky.

"Of course. The first session is normally pretty light, mainly getting your back story and what you'd like to work on. And their rooms have silencing wards on them so no one else will hear anything. And the files they keep are spelled so only your therapist can read them unless you give permission. Not even the High Lord."

You knew you were overexplaining, but it had been the only way so far to talk Nesta into getting some kind of help, along with your offered bribe of massages after every session she did. And she had been nervous about her brother in law possibly accessing the files... You weren't entirely certain on their relationship, but on the few nights you hadn't had dinner together, she had gone to her family dinners. And those nights, she tended to come to your apartment in an off mood, like the confidence had been squished out of her.

So you made certain she knew any information she gave her healer would be safe, unable to be accessed unless she allowed it.

Nesta sighed, but let you lead her into the office anyways. "I want lots of cuddling, too," she whispered as the pair of you approached the receptionist's counter.

"Whatever you want, cutie," you agreed, giving her a peck on the cheek. "We're here for an appointment, for Nesta," you said to the receptionist, squeezing Nesta's hand back when she gripped yours tighter.

"Alright, I'll let your healer know," the female behind the counter said, and gestured towards the sitting area. "Go ahead and take a seat, she'll be out for you soon."

"Thank you," you said, leading Nesta over to a couch and wrapping an arm around her. "I'm so proud of you, Nes. Really, it's hard to start this stuff... It took me a long time to get myself in."

A light blush dusted Nesta's cheeks at your words, but she didn't fight them. "Thank you, love. I'm... I'm glad you convinced me..." she whispered, her voice still filled with nerves.

A door swung open, revealing a middle aged high fae female. "Nesta?"

You gave her a big smile before urging her to get up, blowing her a kiss before she disappeared behind the door.

The hour passed by slowly, each minute lightening the worry in your heart. You had been a bit worried about Nesta leaving the appointment five minutes in, but after a half an hour, you were certain that she would make it through the entire session.

To your relief, she did. When she walked out, her eyes were a bit red, but she waved goodbye to the female and promised to meet her next week. Pride swelled in your chest at that, so happy that your love was ready to commit to help.

She walked over to you, arms extended, and without hesitating you gave her a big hug, squeezing her tight.

"How'd it go, love?"

"Good... Hard, but it was... It was nice to talk."

You smiled gently at her, eyes holding her gaze. "I'm glad, Nes. I think you'll enjoy it. *And I'm excited to give you a massage," you giggled, pulling her out of the office and back into the streets.

Nesta laughed, and even if it was still a bit sad, you took it as a win. "I'm excited for that too, honey."

You flushed at the pet name- she had rarely called you that outside of the privacy of your bedroom. It brought up... heated memories.

Nesta knew that, and pinched your ass as she practically chased you back home. As soon as you were shut in your apartment, she threw her dress off, leaving her in just her undergarments, and laid down on the couch. "Massage please," Nesta said, her slight whine so cute that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, my love," you giggled, crawling on top of her so you could start easing the tension from her back and shoulders.

Over the next two weeks, both you and Nesta continued seeing each other whenever you were able, and Nesta started going to see her healer twice a week, already making some strides in learning to manage her trauma.

It was a Wednesday night when you said it. You had both clumsily cooked chicken alfredo, both of you mediocre at cooking at best, so it was a surprise it came out decent at all. The process had probably taken longer than it needed to, with how often the two of you stopped to kiss and touch each other.

It was over dinner that it slipped out, so casually that it shocked even you.

Nesta had just told you a joke about - you couldn't even remember what it was about - but you had laughed so hard, a laugh that was pure joy.

"Mother, I love you," you said, clearly, boldly.

Nesta's eyes widened slightly, and in the few seconds she didn't respond your heart sank into the floor, in the earth.

"I- I love you too," Nesta said softly, a gentle expression on her face.

You grinned and grabbed one of her hands, pressing a firm kiss to the top of it. "You do?"

Nesta narrowed her eyes at you playfully before smiling at you. "I do, Y/N."

"Good. That makes me just as happy as loving you makes me," you cooed, standing from your chair and going over to her. "I hope you know how lucky I consider myself to have you in my life."

Nesta flushed bright red at your admission, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. "I- I don't understand how I got you," Nesta whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I'm such a-" she sniffled. "A bad person."

You sank to your knees in front of her, hands cupping her face. "Hey- that is not true at all Nesta. You are so wonderful, and caring, and kind. You are an amazing person, Nesta. And you have me because you are an amazing person. I love you for who you are, Nessie." You hoped your eyes conveyed just how much your cherished her, cared for her, loved her.

Nesta was quiet for a minute, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "Really?"

You smiled at her lovingly. "Really. Now, if anyone said those words to you, I will go beat the crap out of them for you. You do not deserve to hear those words. And if it was you that said them to yourself, well, I'll make sure you know every day just how amazing you are," you offered.

Nesta laughed weakly. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll be able to handle it. Though you praising me... I think I can handle that," she said, her lips just barely tilting up.

"Well, let me start right now. You are so sweet, and you know how to cook just as well as I do, aaand you know exactly how to cheer me up when I'm having a tough day," you said, rising up a bit to pepper kisses over Nesta's wet cheeks. Her eyes closed and nose wrinkled as you did so, allowing you to press a light kiss over each eye, causing her to laugh.

"Okay, okay. You can stop," Nesta giggled, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. She pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, soft and sweet. "Thank you, Y/N. For everything."

"You're welcome, my love. Now... How about dessert?" You asked, quirking a brow at her. "Snuggles? Kisses? Actually dessert?"

Nesta rolled her eyes, but stood from her chair and pulled you towards the bedroom. "How about all three? And maybe a bit more?" She asked in a sultry tone.

"A bit more would be lovely."

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Another month passed in almost complete bliss, your life with Nesta falling perfectly into place. Therapy was going well for both of you, and you felt more alive than you had ever since you lost your family.

Nesta was the sun in your life, even when it was raining. Her presence never failed to make you happy, and you loved that you seemed to do the same for her. She was still struggling some days, but she seemed to be better at pulling herself out of it and processing what was wrong.

That alone made you beam with pride, how far she had come in trying to heal.

Every morning now, Nesta helped you open the bookstore, and you had even taught her how to make the drinks you serve in the small café. For most of the day, she read in an armchair next to the fire, and helped you restocked books.

You had mentioned something about needing to pay her for her work, but Nes had adamantly refused, claiming that her time with you was more than enough payment.

So instead, you gave her any books she wanted for free. Most of the time, the books stayed in the building, simply making their way up to your apartment, normally to your bedside tables.

Today, Nesta was out at the High Lord and Lady's house, attending one of the weekly family dinners she was seemingly required to attend.

You didn't mind, of course, you thought that Nesta being close with her sisters was extremely important. It's just...

Every week, she tended to have a bad day after their dinners, and you were... Well, you were concerned that something nefarious was happening there, something that was hurting Nesta. Whatever it was, she had refused to talk to you about it as of now.

So tonight, you'd made yourself a simple salad with a bit of grilled chicken on it, and had a quiet bubble bath while you waited for Nesta to come home.

You'd nearly fallen asleep while reading in bed by the time she came into the bedroom.

"Marry me."

That woke you up, book forgotten as you sat up.

"What?" You asked, heart thudding in your chest.

"Marry me, Y/N," Nesta said again, striding across the room to your bedside. "I don't-" she took a deep, steadying breath. "I don't ever want to spend another day without you, and I don't want to spent another day not married to you."

You were breathing faster now, heart racing in your chest as she spoke. "Really?"

Nesta grinned at you. "Really."

You bolted out of bed and into her arms, letting her spin you in a circle. "Yes! Yes, yes yes, Nessie!" You exclaimed, planting a kiss on her lips once you stilled.

Both of you had rosy cheeks from your excitement, and matching toothy smiles as you stared at each other.

"So... Want to go track down a priestess with me?" Nesta asked, intertwining her fingers with yours.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you said, already moving to the closet to get changed.

"Oh, no, I think you should go just like this," Nesta whispered in your ear as she wrapped her arms around you, one hand resting on your stomach and the other in between your breasts.

You giggled at the suggestion. "Nessie I'm in a nightgown, and a skimpy one at that."

"All the better, just wear a long coat over it," Nesta said between the soft kisses she was placing on your neck.

"As much as you would enjoy the view, I'd much rather be in a pretty and slightly more appropriate dress, love." You started flicking through your options, though you were very distracted by the female behind you, still loving on the skin of your neck.

"I suppose I could change as well, put on something a bit more elegant," Nesta said, pulling away from your neck.

"Mm, we could dress and undress each other for our wedding."

"That's just what I was thinking, honey." Nesta began flipping through her own wardrobe that she'd begun to leave here, quickly settling on a long sleeved dress that would reach her ankles, made of a beautiful silk. It was one of the dresses that you absolutely adored her in, but almost never made it out of the house, or even the bedroom.

"Oh, Nes, you know that after this that dress will absolutely never see the light of day again because I will keep you in here with me for hours, right?"

Nesta chuckled from beside you as she began undressing. "I was counting on that, baby."

You rolled your eyes playfully at her before picking out the dress you would wear. You didn't have near as many fancy dresses as Nesta did, but the silk wrap dress that reached your knees would be nice enough for the occasion. It was in a light lavender, with a ribbon to tie around your waist.

"Love, I could say the exact same thing about your choice. You look fantastic in that dress, I think maybe we'll have to have a little reenactment once a month or so," Nesta said once she eyed the dress you had picked.

You kissed her firmly, pouring all of your love into it. "We just might. Now, let's get dressed quickly so that we can find a priestess before they're all asleep," you said, lightly pulling her dress off its hanger.

It may not have been quick, but you and Nesta both got changed into your chosen outfits, with many kisses and gentle touches exchanged in the process.

"Oh- do we have rings?" You asked just as you left the bookstore, locking it behind you.

Nesta froze for a moment. "No. Shit, how could I have forgotten the rings...?" She muttered.

"That's fine, I'm sure someone will be open in the Palace of Thread and Jewels, and it's on the way to the Temple," you told her, grasping her hand and pulling her in that direction.

Sure enough, there were a few vendors that were just about to pack up, and one of them happened to have a display filled with gorgeous rings, some even shown as a matching set.

Together you picked out a matching set of rings, designed with a thin silver band and a small, pale pink diamond in the center. Simple but elegant, with silver for Nesta and pink for you.

The next task in your list to get married was easily accomplished, with the Temple of Night still buzzing with priestesses. One of them, Rosanna, who you had spoken with at your store before, and was more than willing to help you and Nesta on short notice.

With excitement buzzing in your veins, you and Nesta walked hand in hand into the ceremony room, the vaulted ceiling made entirely of glass and pouring moonlight into the room.

Rosanna stood behind the altar in the center of the room, and gestured for the two of you to stand on either side of it.

Once you were in your places, Rosanna lit the three candles on the altar, letting them burn for a minute before speaking.

"Hold your hands together over the flames, please," she requested, and the two of you complied, sharing happy smiles as your eyes met. "The Mother has brought the two of you together with the strings of fate, and with those very strings you choose to bind yourselves for eternity. Tonight you have decided to share your souls, binding them under the moonlight for better or for worse, never to be parted. The flames beneath your hands represent the trials you might face in your shared lives, but with each other, you will persevere. Do you have vows prepared?"

Nesta spoke first, tears shining in her eyes. "In the time that I have known you, Y/N, you have always helped me, cared for me, and shared your love with me. I hope to always return your affections, to keep you safe, and make you happy. I love you, Y/N, and I will always love you."

By the time Nesta finished her vows, tears were streaming down your face, and you were barely able to pull yourself together to say your own.

"Nesta, you have always been a bright light in my life, bringing me joy even if just with a passing smile or a brush of your hand. You have helped me feel alive again, and have made my life so much happier and lively since we have been together. I love you forever, no matter what."

Now both of you were crying, hands squeezed tightly together over the warmth of the candles.

"The Mother sees your devotion, and blesses this union. You may now kiss the bride," Rosanna said cheerily, watching as you and Nesta raised your clasped hands so that your faces could meet over the flames, a gentle joining of your lips the first kiss of your married life. Together, you blew out the flames, only then releasing your hands. You slid Nesta's onto her ring finger, appreciating how perfect it looked on her. Nesta did the same for you, rubbing her thumb over it once it was securely on your finger.

"Now, who will be taking the other's last name?"

"I'll take Nesta's," you answered quickly, grinning at your now wife. "It would be strange for you to not be Nesta Archeron," you said softly. "And... I'd like to take your last name."

Nesta's light blush was enough of an answer for you, but she confirmed it for Rosanna anyways. "Y/N will be taking my last name."

"That's wonderful. I hope the two of you have a wonderful marriage, Mrs and Mrs Nesta Archeron," Rosanna said formally. "And Y/N, I'll be expecting a coffee as my payment for this," Rosanna teased with a wink before leading the two of you out of the temple. "Now go, enjoy your first night as a married couple!"

You and Nesta giggled softly together, but did as she said, stopping in at Rita's for one drink each. After that, you headed straight home, more than ready to have a long night together. Nesta's wandering hands made themselves known on the walk, pinching your ass every now and then.

By the time you made it into your apartment, Nesta's hands were already untying the ribbon of your dress, her lips on your throat.

Oh yes, it would be a long night.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

The next morning, you decided to keep the store closed, staying in with your new wife instead.

Somehow, that title had made Nesta even more attractive to you, which you had previously thought impossible. You woke before her, and just laid staring at her beautiful face as she slept.

Of course, she had gently swatted at you when she realized you had been watching her sleep, but you only laughed and nuzzled into her, relishing in the soft whimpers she let out when you licked at her neck.

"Good morning, my sweet wife," you whispered in her ear. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a goddess," Nesta said softly, turning so she was facing you. "I think that's due to my pretty little wife sleeping next to me."

You blushed at her words, loving this new title you had for one another. "Mm, I think so too. Having you next to me always makes my sleep better."

Nesta let out a pleased huff, her eyes drifting closed. "That's good, love." She yawned wide, her body going taught before relaxing even more in your arms.

You loved when Nesta was sleepy, she was always so adorable.

"Don't go back to bed, Nessie, I wanted to make breakfast together," you whined quietly, without any real force behind it. If you tried, you could likely fall back asleep in Nesta's embrace.

"Mm, only if you find a way to make me wake up," Nesta replied, yawning halfway through.

An idea sparked in your head.

You gently pushed Nesta back onto her back, ignoring her huffy breaths of protest in favor of crawling beneath the blankets, settling yourself between her legs.

She would be better than breakfast.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Your first five days of marriage, you hardly left your apartment. If you did, it was for you and Nesta to run the bookstore, only managing it for a couple of hours at a time before you slipped back upstairs after turning over the open sign in the window.

It was absolute bliss, getting to know Nesta even better, hearing more about what she wanted from a marriage. Someone who is not only her partner, but also her best friend, and someone that she can trust.

You were happy to say that you fit the bill.

It was on your sixth day that Nesta paced around your apartment before you had even woken.

"What's up, Nessie?" You asked her, peeling yourself out of bed to stop her in her tracks.

"Somehow-" Nesta paused, taking a calming breath. "Somehow my family found out about our wedding, and they... They want to meet you," she explained, a distraught look on her face.

"I... Is that a bad thing...?" You asked hesitantly.

Nesta nodded, but panicked when she saw your face fall at her answer. "Not because of you! It's because of them. I don't... I don't know how they'll react. I don't care, but I don't want you to be hurt," Nesta clarified.

"Oh, Nes. I'm sure I'll be fine, and if they say anything rude, we can just leave. Right?"

Nesta's face scrunched up in the way she did when she wasn't happy with the outcome, but had to accept it anyway. "I suppose..."

"And if they don't say anything rude, then it will have been a nice gesture of them to care enough to meet me," you said, swiping a thumb soothingly across her cheek.

Nesta sighed. "I guess you're right... So... tomorrow at seven?"

You smiled. "I'll be ready, Nes. Now - I thought that today we could move the rest of your things in here, if you'd like?" You said, attempting to not only distract her from tomorrow, but get her to fully live with you.

It worked, warmth flooding Nesta's lovely blue-gray eyes. "I'd love to, honey."

Once you managed to keep yourselves clothed long enough, moving Nesta's things into your apartment went smoothly. A few extra bookshelves, filled with Nesta's own collection, made its way into your shared apartment, along with all of Nesta's clothes. Beyond that, she didn't have many things, as most of the furniture had come with her apartment.

The rest of the day was spent in privacy, a clumsily made stew your dinner for the day, with more time spent kissing and giggling than actually cooking.

The next morning, Nesta had woken you up with her tongue between your legs, an orgasm rolling through you before you were fully aware of what was happening. You spent the day paying her back, feasting on her as she read some of the more graphic scenes in your favorite series, loving how her hand in your hair guided you.

By the time dinner rolled around you had bathed twice, the second time only being needed after Nesta had pinned you against a wall and sucked marks onto your neck and shoulders, which had faded into pale yellow marks by the time you arrived in front of the High Lord and Lady's newest residence.

The River House.

From what you could see from the outside, the interior was cozy and slightly informal, and you could already hear roaring laughter from within as you stood hand in hand with Nesta in front of the large front doors.

"Are you ready?" Nesta asked quietly. "Because if you aren't, we can-"

"Nessie, it's going to be fine. Now, let's get inside, the sooner we do the sooner we can go home," you said, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. "Now, do you want to knock, or should I?"

Nesta shook her head at you and smiled. "I love you," she said as she knocked on the thick wood.

"I love you too."

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

#get cozy since we're both lonely #welcome to the family #Nesta x reader #nesta x reader fluff #Nesta x reader smut #acotar x reader #acotar x you #fluff #smut #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #Nesta #Nesta archeron #nesta archeron x reader #tato writes

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kandadze · 8 hours ago

Text

FoF rewatch ep 5-6: Zhuo Yichen and Zhuo Yixuan (gifs and loose thoughts)

It might be because I'm an only child, that I tend to gravitate towards sibling - whether by blood or found - relationships. One of my favorite books growing up was Astrid Lindgren's "The Brothers Lionheart." I'm more likely to watch a show if it has an ensemble cast of characters who are in all sorts of familial and otherwise close situationships (hello, FoF). (Must also be why I finished watching My Journey To You the first time - due to my morbid fascination with the absolutely dysfunctional, codependent, borderline incestuous and in general fucked up dynamic between the eldest and the youngest of the Gong "brothers"... not sure what that says about me lol)

Back to the Zhuo brothers.

I loved Zhuo Yixuan the moment he appeared in ep 5 (and not only because I have a soft spot for his actor). I do realize that we get an idealized version of him, seeing him only through the eyes of someone who loved him and then lost him too early, and I still think he was a remarkable guy.

I believe that he can be considered one of the biggest influences on who ZYC is as a person. (The other one would be WX, but that's a whole separate post.) As far as the Zhuo family goes, we know there was a father, but even though he is mentioned, it's never by name, and he never features in any of ZYC's memories, either - which makes me assume that he was a father just by title, and not very close with either of the brothers.

As for their mother, we were told that she died when ZYC was little, so I imagine ZYX himself was a teenager at most at the time. Now imagine this young boy, having just lost his mother, and with barely any support from his father, not only raising himself, but also becoming a whole-ass family unit (mother, father and brother) to his Xiao-Chen. And, even allowing that ZYC's memories only show us the best moments with his big brother, seeing what we can of ZYC's character, I think ZYX did a spectacular job.

He's most likely the reason why ZYC, even socially awkward and shy, draws people in - whether demon, half-god, or human child that's a little bit of both. As long as someone doesn't pose an active threat, he just does his best to do what his big brother used to do for him - asks questions, listens patiently, responds from his personal experience and to the best of his ability. ZYX didn't ridicule him for having nightmares or being scared to dream; he reassured him and then looked for ways to help. ZYX didn't force him into making connections with other children when it was clear it was too painful; he did his best to be there when it mattered and let nature take its course.

There's that scene in later eps where ZYX does his sword training while ZYC entertains himself in the vicinity. It's obvious the brothers enjoyed each other's company, but also had their own pastimes and commitments (the nightmare in ep 6 starts with ZYC doing his own training while ZYX is away). There's the scene with ZYC trying on that delicate golden headband, and ZYX teaching him what it meant to wear one (made me think of a book I read years ago, which featured an apparently Anglo-Saxon tradition of boys up to a certain age wearing a headband woven with 7 strips of white cloth for pretty much the same reasons as ZYX explained to ZYC). He clearly taught his baby brother some sound principles.

I'm also assuming that ZYX was quite lonely himself. In ZYC's memories he's of age to marry and have a child, but there's no other family around that we can see, or that would get mentioned. ZYC must've intuited that, asking ZYX if he's the same as him - as in, misunderstood, and lonely, and his big brother just smiles and doesn't answer, clearly not wanting to burden him.

He instead shares what I think was what he got from being born into Bingyi line - a gift of foresight. I might be reaching, but in my mind ZYX foretold many events in ZYC's life - meeting ZYZ (the "anomaly," that ZYC will recognize not with his eyes, but his heart! The Truth Eye parallels are everywhere...), meeting like-minded companions, waking up the Cloud Light Sword... He seems to have hoped for all the best for his baby brother, not for himself. Which again, makes me emotional at just how good of a man he was, and how he helped ZYC to become someone who's not afraid to be open and soft, who's able to change his mind as new information presents itself, who's emotionally intelligent and does his best to see the world clearly.

We'll never know what would have become of the brothers had ZYX survived, but I believe that if he could see his Xiao-Chen now, he'd be very very proud.

#the zhuo brothers have my whole heart and then some #we stan zhuo yixuan in this house #fangs of fortune #zhuo yichen #zhuo yixuan #fof rewatch ep 5 #fof rewatch ep 6 #fof gif by me #fof musings

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eyneyke · 1 day ago

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Caught red handed

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 11 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

It was a late afternoon at the Red Bull Racing garage after a successful quali. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as the team celebrated their latest pole. Max and Sam had taken a moment to step away from the hustle, retreating to a quieter corner where they could enjoy each other’s company without the watchful eyes of the world.

As they shared soft kisses, wrapped up in their own little world, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. Checo Pérez and Christian Horner entered the garage, engaged in conversation about the race and its outcome. They walked toward the area where Max and Sam were, oblivious to the couple’s presence.

Suddenly, Checo paused mid-sentence, his eyes widening. He nudged Christian, who turned to see what had caught Checo’s attention. The sight of Max with his hands tangled in Sam's hair, their lips pressed together, sent a wave of surprise through both of them.

Christian clears his throat while Checo speaks. “Uh… guys?” Checo exclaimed, raising an eyebrow.

Max and Sam pulled apart instantly, their faces flushed with heath. Max’s eyes darted to Checo and Christian, trying to gather his thoughts. Sam’s cheeks turned bright red, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Christian stepped forward, a playful smirk on his face. “Well, well, well... Looks like we’ve stumbled upon a little secret, haven’t we?”

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Uh, hey, guys. This isn’t what it looks like…” Sam gives him a look that screams 'You are not fooling anyone' and then looks back at Christian and Checo with a slight smile.

Checo couldn’t help but laugh. “Really? Because it looks like you two were getting pretty cosy.”

Max cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure. “We were just—uh—talking about car designs. You know how it is.”

Christian chuckled. “Sure, car designs. That’s what they call it these days.”

Max shot him a glare, but it was light-hearted. “Fine, you caught us. But can you blame us? It’s been a long week.”

Checo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no judgement here. It’s great to see you two fineally got your act together. Just… maybe not in the here in the garage next time? You know the garage filled with the cameras? If you are not trying to get caught, of course.”

Max laughed, a bit relieved. “Right, noted. We’ll keep it out of the public area of the garage.”

Sam finally found his voice, turning to Christian. “I hope this doesn’t change anything with my job. We didn’t mean for anyone to find out like this but we have been together for a while now and we are working even better than before.”

Christian shook his head, a warm smile on his face. “Don't worry Sam, you guzs are good. As long as it doesn’t affect Max’s performance on the track or yours in the garage, we’re all for it. Just keep it a bit more discreet. We don’t want the media getting wind of this before you two are ready and want to come out.”

Checo grinned, crossing his arms. “Just think of the headlines: ‘Max Verstappen’s Secret Weapon—His Hot Engineer!’”

Max rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t suppress his smile. “Thanks for the support, guys. Really. And I promise to keep it under wraps… at least until we’ve won the championship.”

With that, the tension in the air eased, and the group shared a laugh. Checo clapped Max on the shoulder before walking away, teasingly calling back, “Just keep those hands to yourself in the garage!”

Christian lingered a moment longer, looking between the two. “Just remember, this team is like family. We support you and all that. So if you ever need anything or advice on how to navigate this, just let me know. I’ve seen my fair share of relationships in this sport and many more burn just because the couple couldn't communicate.”

As Christian headed out, Sam turned to Max, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Guess the secret’s out now.”

Max chuckled, leaning into Sam’s side. “At least they took it well. I was worried about how they’d react. I'm just happy Christian took it well. God knows my actual dad wouldn't.”

Sam kissed the top of Max’s head, his heart swelling with affection. “We’ll figure it out together. And for the record, I don’t mind the world knowing about us, as long as we’re happy.”

With renewed energy, they returned to their post-race celebrations, ready to tackle whatever came next—together.

#fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x male reader #max verstappen x reader #pewdiepie x brother!reader #pewdiepie x sibling!reader #writing #funny #max verstappen x male oc

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urlocaloptimist · 2 days ago

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Telemachus glances over at Y/n as they walk together, and the young man notices the contrast between them. She was stunningly beautiful and he was rather plain looking. But nonetheless, he always enjoyed her company. He smiled as he looked at her, his gaze lingering slightly longer than usual. He tried not to stare at the way the setting sun caught in her hair, and he pushed down the feeling of admiration that stirred within his chest. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to having her around, though he couldn't deny that he enjoyed her company. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy whenever other men would look her way. But he quickly reminded himself that he had no claim over her; she was free to speak to whoever she wanted. Besides, she seemed utterly oblivious to all of the attention she received... As Telemachus continued walking beside y/n, his thoughts began to turn to the idea of marrying her. He'd never once considered such a thing before, but he couldn't deny that the thought appealed to him greatly. He'd never loved anyone quite like he loved her, and the idea of spending the rest of his life with her seemed like a dream come true.

But he quickly shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself that marriage was a serious matter, not just something to be thought of lightly. Besides, he wasn't even sure if y/n reciprocated his feelings. Despite his attempts to push the thought away, Telemachus couldn't shake the idea. He found himself stealing glances at her, his heart racing each time she smiled at him. He was tempted to tell her how he felt, but he wasn't sure how she would react. Would she laugh in his face? Or worse, would she simply see him as a friend and nothing more?

As they walked, he couldn't stop himself from imagining what their life together might be like. He pictured them walking hand in hand on the beach, or dancing under the stars. He saw himself waking up beside her every morning, watching her brush her hair and dress in the morning light. He could practically see the children they would have together, with her striking good looks and his intelligence. He knew it was foolish to get his hopes up like this, but he couldn't help it. Every moment he spent with her only made him more certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to speak. "Y/n, I need to ask you something.", "Go on," I tell him, He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. His heart was racing and he felt like he might be sick. "I wanted to know if... if you might have a crush on me?" he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly.

I worried for a moment that someone who knew of my feelings told him so I asked "Did someone tell you that" Slightly panicked, "No, not at all. It's just... I've noticed a few things," Telemachus stuttered, his hands fidgeting nervously. "And I wondered if maybe you felt something for me?", maybe it would be best to just be honest with him, who knows, he might feel the same, "I...I do, I'm sorry, I understand if you don't feel the same" I couldn't help myself from hoping, Telemachus was taken aback by her response, his heart swelling with happiness. He hadn't expected her to feel the same way. "No, no, I do," he said quickly. "More than you know." That was a surprise to me, a very good surprise. He stepped forward, taking both of her hands in his own. "I've... I've never felt this way about anyone before," he admitted. "You're beautiful and smart, and funny, and I just can't imagine my life without you. I know we've only known each other for a month but... I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was a reflection of his own feelings. "Y/n, will you... will you marry me?", "Yes," I tell him full of excitement. A huge smile broke out across Telemachus's face, his heart feeling like it might explode from happiness. He couldn't believe that she had said yes. He wrapped her in a tight embrace, pulling her close to him. "I can't believe this is real. I never thought you'd say yes," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

(Timeskip)

Telemachus could feel his heart racing in his chest as he stood in the throne room, holding Y/n's hand in his own. They were standing before his parents, King Odysseus and Queen Penelope, both of whom were eyeing them curiously. Odysseus looked pleased with his son, with a hint of a smile on his face, but Penelope was studying Y/n carefully, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Father, Mother," Telemachus began, struggling to keep his voice steady. "There's something I need to tell you." Odysseus nodded, gesturing for his son to continue.

"Y/n and I... we've decided we want to get married." He held his breath, waiting for his parents' reaction. Odysseus's smile widened, but Penelope's expression remained impassive. For a moment, the room was silent. But then Odysseus spoke up. "This is splendid news, my boy," he said, his voice filled with pride and approval. He leaned back in his chair, still with a smile on his face. Penelope, however, was still quiet, her gaze fixed on y/n. Telemachus could feel his palms growing sweaty, his heart still racing in his chest. He knew his mother was a tough woman, and he was terrified that she would outright reject y/n as her daughter-in-law. "Mother... please, say something," Telemachus spoke up, his voice pleading. Penelope was silent for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. But then, slowly, a smile began to form on her lips. Telemachus let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relief washing over him. "Very well," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "You have my blessing."

Odysseus clapped his hands together, still smiling widely. "A wedding is certainly in order then!" he exclaimed, looking almost gleeful. "We must make the preparations at once." Thus begins the chaotic planning and preparation that comes with a royal wedding in Ithaca, but it will all be worth it.

#epic the musical #telemachus #fanfic #telemachus x reader

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luvvictoria · 2 days ago

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I’m yours

( ♡ ) pairing : Yuji Itadori x fem!girlfriend!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, age gap , idk bro

Yuji Itadori never thought much about love. His life, filled with fighting curses and the weight of his own destiny, left little room for romance. But then you came into his life —the girl who seemed to bring light wherever she went.

You were 15, with [lenght] , flowing [color] hair, your [color] skin glowing in the sunlight. You had soft, delicate features and a warm, gentle aura that drew people in. Your [color] eyes sparkled with kindness. You treated everyone around you with care, a rare quality that made you stand out in a world filled with chaos.

The first time Yuji saw you, you were helping another student pick up their books in the hallway, your soft voice offering comfort. Yuji watched from a distance, struck by how effortlessly kind you were. It wasn’t the grand gesture that caught his attention, but the way she made the small moments feel significant.

Days went by, and Yuji found himself drawn to you, watching you from afar, hoping for a chance to speak to you. His friends teased him about his obvious crush, but Yuji, always so brave on the battlefield, couldn’t seem to muster the same courage when it came to you.

It was a rainy afternoon when Yuji finally got his chance. He was heading home after a particularly grueling day of exorcising curses when he saw Victoria standing under a bus stop shelter, her umbrella broken, completely drenched.

Without thinking, Yuji rushed over, pulling his own umbrella over her head.

“Hey! You’re soaked,” he said, his concern obvious.

Victoria looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time. Despite being cold and wet, she smiled, her dimples appearing as if the rain didn’t bother her at all.

“Thanks,” she said softly, “I didn’t expect the storm to hit so fast.”

Yuji laughed nervously, his heart racing. “Let me walk you home.”

Victoria hesitated for a moment but saw the sincerity in his eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

As they walked side by side under the umbrella, Yuji felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. They talked about everything—her love for books, his dream to protect people, their shared favorite foods. It was easy with her. The world outside seemed to blur, the rain a soft soundtrack to their blossoming connection.

From that day on, Yuji and you spent more and more time together. You weren't a sorcerer, didn’t fight curses, but you brought peace into his chaotic life in a way no one else could. You would meet him after school, and you’d sit together, talking or just enjoying each other’s company. For you, Yuji was the most genuine person you had ever met. His smile, his kindness—it was impossible not to feel safe and cherished around him.

Yuji felt the same way. You made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the madness of his life. When you were with him, the weight of his responsibilities didn’t feel so heavy. It wasn’t just your beauty that captivated him, but your heart—your ability to see the good in everyone, including him.

"I'm Yours"

One evening, under the glow of the setting sun, you and Yuji sat together on a park bench, watching the colors bleed into the sky. The world felt peaceful for once, and Yuji couldn’t hold back his feelings any longer. He turned to you, his voice soft but steady.

“I know my life is… complicated. But I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’m yours. If you’ll have me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had felt the same way for a while but hadn’t known how to say it. Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked into his honest eyes, full of both strength and vulnerability. You reached out, gently touching his hand.

“I’m yours too, Yuji,” you whispered, her voice filled with warmth.

In that moment, everything else faded away. The curses, the dangers, the uncertainty of the future—it all seemed small compared to what you felt for each other. You didn’t need grand declarations or promises you couldn’t keep. What you had was simple, pure, and undeniable.

Yuji squeezed your hand, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time. He knew that with you by his side, he could face anything. And for you, Yuji wasn’t just a hero who fought curses. He was the boy who had given you his umbrella in the rain, who made you laugh, who looked at you like she was the only person in the world.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you sat together, hands intertwined, knowing that whatever came next, you would face it together.

Because in the end, they belonged to each other.

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pastafossa · 2 years ago

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Hello lovely! I’m relatively new (I’ve actually lurked for almost a year but that’s okay) I’m not sure if this was ever discussed but I’m curious if Matt and Ciro will ever accept each other or at least see eye to eye when it comes to Jane and, yknow, stop threatening one another. I just want dad and (future) husband to get along.

It is absolutely fine to lurk, and thank you for coming to say hi!

I can say that while they'll always be kinda snarky at one another, they will come to accept each other, yes! Their clashes are particularly bad rn because they're two cats who haven't been properly introduced jane you're supposed to let them eat on either side of a door so they can exchange smells and then wave a feather toy for shared enrichment still working out how their two pieces can fit together. Ciro's obviously always gonna have the murder-y bit and Matt is going to have the 'I put people like you in jail' bit but as they take time, they'll start to find all the ways they get along like coffee, and loving Jane, and silk sheets, and capability for sarcastic comments, and various forms of violence, and good food, and mini matt, and the fact that matt is a feral catholic dumpster diving ninja disaster orphan child and Ciro has a tendency to adopt those.

They just gotta get there first. And they will! Mostly because everyone is going to get character growth in this fic, and that includes Ciro.

#the red thread #ciro leone #matt and ciro will come around on each other #although they'll always kinda jab at one another #but that'll become a little more of a frenemies things than an active I Want To Kill You thing #and they will have more and more moments of enjoying each other's company #ngl i've got a plan for how matt and jane adopt mini matt the cat and it's going to raise matt like 10 levels in ciro's eyes #they'll get there!#ESPECIALLY when Ciro finds out Matt's mom is a nun #cause holy shit does he want jane to marry into that family yes please do marry matt cause having a nun to intercede for you????#BIG POINTS

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wikitpowers · 5 months ago

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want kitty to go to karaoke together during their road trip in tlkof and for kit to sing ‘i will always love you’ by whitney houston at the top of his lungs while looking at ty and laughing uncontrollably when he fails to hit the high notes, but then becoming more serious as the song is ending and he’s staring at ty while he sings about how he'll always love him and for ty to just feel like absolute goo

#need them to have silly romcom moments like this #where they just laugh together and enjoy each other's company while falling even more in love #*sighs*#sending my prayers for this energy to be present in tlkof #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #kitty #cassandra clare #the last king of faerie #the wicked powers #tlkof #twp #tsc

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starheirxero · 1 month ago

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Send your fave tsbs ship to waffle house at 3 am and I'm not joking

#xero says things #read as: one of my fave ever utmv fics was two of the bad sanses going to waffle house super early #and it goes really well overall but notably there's a part where one of them is like #'okay. how do we wanna kill the waitress who served us? :D'#and the other is like 'dude no wth??? we're not killing anyone can we just. can we be normal for a night. can we live like normal people'#and there's just. a moment of understanding. where the other realizes that having a moment away from The Job is more important to him #and the other is like 'ah. yeah. alright.' and its..... aoaauaggghhhh it makes me very emotional #so. send ur ship to waffle house and have them live like normal people for a night #have them live like nothing is wrong and there is no heavy weight on their shoulders #have them enjoy each other's company without interference #yk? yk????#tsams #tsams ship #tlaes #tlaes ship #eaps #eaps ship #tsbs

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cumironi · 3 months ago

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I CAN F☆CK TREAT YOU BETTER g. satoru

☆ sum. you and gojo were all alone, no geto around, just the two of you— all alone, in the bed, kissing, make out under the glisten of the dim lights, under the blanket.

warning. established relationship au, fem! reader, pet names, nipple-plāy, unprotected sēx, gojo is jealous because you love geto’s broodiness, i need thissssss

there is one thing about you that your two boyfriends never get used to, even though you’ve spent years dating: whenever one of them goes on a mission for a few days and it’s just you with one of them, you become a different person. you’re more clingy, more affectionate, more romantic and sweet, making them fall in love with you all over again.

just like right now, you were laying on your side, face to face with gojo. it was just the two of you for a few days before geto had to leave for a mission, which meant you both had a lot of time to enjoy each other’s company.

the two of you didn’t say anything, just looking into each other's eyes, your cheeks flushed against the soft pillow under the gentle blue light of the moon. the quiet moment wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way his gaze held a mix of adoration and curiosity. it was in these moments that you felt the most connected, and the world outside seemed to fade away.

you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek, marveling at the way his expression shifted, softening as he leaned into your touch. “you know, i could get used to this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. gojo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

gojo found himself lost in the depths of your eyes, captivated by their warmth and tenderness. he let out a soft sigh, his fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your arm, relishing the sensation of closeness between the two of you.

he chuckled at your words, his hand moving from your arm to the side of your neck, his thumb tracing soft circles against your jawline. “you get so clingy when it’s just us,” he teased, a playful smirk on his lips. “are you complaining?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes.

“absolutely not,” he replied, his smirk widening as he shifted closer, the tips of both your noses just barely touching. his fingertips grazed the top of your cheekbone, his gaze never leaving yours.

“in fact, i quite like it,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “it’s like i get to see a side of you that’s meant just for me. and that’s a privilege i’m not gonna take for granted.” gojo’s eyes flicked over your face, studying the way the soft moonlight illuminated your features. the two of you were so close that he could see every small detail of your expression, each flutter of your eyelashes, each subtle shift in your expression.

he couldn’t help but be captivated by you, by the way you responded to his touch, by the way you looked at him with such open affection. he leaned in just a little bit closer, his breath fanning across your lips. “you know,” he began, a hint of teasing in his voice, “if suguru was here, i wouldn’t get to have you all to myself,” he finished, his hand moving to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of your cheek.

a small, almost possessive smile played at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer still, his forehead touching yours, his nose brushing against yours. “and i’m kinda selfish when it comes to you.”

you chuckle, feigning a pout as you replied teasingly, “well, you know, i can give just as much attention to one of you without the other sulking and pouting about it.” you mutter between your smile. the tip of your index finger poking his dimple.

gojo chuckled at your teasing, his smirk only growing wider. “oh really?” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “you’re telling me you could give us both equal attention without playing favorites?” he leaned into your touch, his dimple indenting a bit more as you poked it. “i’m pretty sure i’ve seen the way your eyes light up whenever suguru walks into a room. you’d always choose him over me.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, scrunching your nose playfully at his accusation. your fingers danced lightly over his chest, tickling him just faintly as you replied, “it’s not my fault that suguru is so dreamy and handsome and soft!” you flashed him a teasing grin, enjoying the way his expression shifted, a mix of amusement and mock jealousy. “i mean, can you blame me? he has that whole brooding look down to a science,” you added with a dramatic sigh.

gojo let out a mock gasp, pretending to be offended. “oh, so that’s how it is? you like geto more because he’s brooding and brooding is attractive?” he feigned a pout for a moment before his smirk returned, his hand moving down from your neck to rest on your hip, his fingers drumming against the skin. “well, you know what? i can brood too, you know. i can be serious and intense.” he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping another octave. “can geto do this?”

and before you could respond, gojo’s lips were on yours in a searing kiss. it was a possessive kiss, his hand gripping your hip tighter as his tongue flicked against your bottom lip, seeking entrance. he pressed into you, his body almost fully on top of yours as he deepened the kiss, his free hand finding its way into your hair, tangling among the strands.

he broke the kiss, but only to kiss down the side of your jaw and down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. he sucked on your pulse point, his teeth grazing against it, his hand on your hip moving up your side to lightly brush against the underside of your breast.

gojo’s fingers brushed over the sensitive skin of your jawline as he pulls away, his touch sending shivers down your spine. he shift back onto his sides before continued to gaze at you with an intense, brooding look, his eyes locked onto yours.

“i can brood just as well as he can,” he said again, his voice still soft. “maybe even better. i just choose not to, because i think it’s more fun to make you laugh.” he leaned in even closer, his nose brushing against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “so, have i won you over yet? am i brooding enough for you?” a warm smile coloring his handsome face.

you couldn’t help but giggle at his faux broodiness, your heart fluttering at the way he was trying so hard to be serious and sexy.

you reached up a hand, cupping his cheek as you studied his expression, his sharp features framed by the moonlight. “oh, definitely,” you replied, your tone playful and lighthearted. “i don’t think i can handle that brooding stare of yours. it’s just too intense.” you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, your thumb caressing the high line of his cheekbone.

“but,” you added, a sly smirk playing at your lips, “i might need a little more convincing. just to be sure.” your hand moves down from gojo’s cheek to his chest, your fingers brushing against the firm muscle hidden beneath his shirt. your touch is light, teasing, your fingertips tracing circles over his pecks.

“you know,” you continued, your voice lower now, “i think you’re being a bit too clothed for this little demonstration.” you glanced down, noting the way his shirt was still very much on, preventing you from fully appreciating his toned physique.

gojo’s eyes darkened at your words, a smirk tugging at his lips. “too clothed, huh?” he repeated, his hands immediately going to the hem of his shirt. he pulled it off in a swift, fluid motion, flinging it carelessly onto the floor. the moonlight illuminated the planes of his chest and abdomen, his muscles flexing under your gaze.

your eyes roamed shamelessly over the expanse of his bare torso, taking in the dips and curves of his muscles. it wasn’t the first time you’d seen him naked, not by a long shot, but the sight of him like this always seemed to make your heart race. you reached out, your hand tracing a slow, languid path down his chest and stomach, following the sculpted ridges that disappeared beneath the waistband of his joggers.

gojo chuckled, the sound deep and rich in his throat. “you like what you see, huh?” he teased, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, pinning your hand to his chest. he shifted closer to you, his breath warm against your neck. “well,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, “i think you’re being a bit too clothed as well.”

a shiver ran down your spine as gojo’s breath ghosted over your neck, his words sending a spark of anticipation through your body. you tilted your head, exposing more of your skin to his teasing touch, your eyes fluttering shut as you relished in the feeling of his lips grazing against your ear.

“oh, am i?” you replied, your tone lilting with playful coyness. “i suppose you’ll have to do something about that then.” gojo smirked, taking the hint as he slowly pushed you back onto the bed, his body caging you in as he leaned over you.

his hands were everywhere, skating over your arms and your sides, skimming over the edges of your clothes, fingers tracing over every curve. he reached your shirt, his fingers catching on the hem. he tugged at it, pulling it up over your stomach and ribcage, revealing more and more of your skin.

he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach, his mouth warm and soft against your skin. he moved lower, his hands sliding the rest of your shirt up and over your head, casting it to the side. his mouth followed, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the slope of your breast, his teeth grazing over the fabric of your bra. he reached around your back, his fingers hooking into the hooks of your bra. dextrous fingers nimbly work to undo the fastening.

as gojo’s mouth and tongue lavished your body, his hands worked to free you from the confines of your bra. you arched your back, your breath coming in soft gasps, your body responding to his every touch. he was gentle but insistent, his fingers moving with practiced ease, like he had been doing this for years. he took his time, but not too much time, his hands slipping the straps off your arms.

gojo’s mouth was on your skin again, his lips and tongue exploring the newly exposed flesh of your chest and stomach. he moved lower, planting soft kisses along your stomach, each touch sending shivers of desire down your spine. his hands skimmed over the curve of your hips, his fingers hooking into the edges of your pants, his mouth still moving over your skin, his teeth lightly nipping and biting at the sensitive spots he knew drives you crazy.

one by one, he undid the buttons and zipper of your pants, his hands slipping them down over your hips, taking your panties down with them. they were tossed onto the floor without a thought, his hands quickly moving back up your legs, his touch light and teasing, dancing just shy of where you wanted them to be.

gojo’s hands glided over your legs, his touch a tantalizing combination of feather-light and firm. he was taking his time, prolonging the anticipation, his lips moving back up your body, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses all the way up to your neck. his body was almost flush against yours, his arms bracketing your head, his weight bearing down just enough to keep you trapped under him.

you push yourself in your elbows, pushing gojo’s head away to meet his lips. your hand runs around his chest to his nape, brushing your fingers to his undercut. the kiss was slow, deliberate, no lust or hunger like you pour all of your love for him.

as your lips meet in a slow, loving kiss, gojo melts into it, his tongue sliding between your lips to deepen the contact. he lets out a soft moan, the sound muffled by your mouth, his hand moving to cup the side of your jaw, his fingertips tracing gentle circles against your skin.

he tilts his head, his nose brushing against yours, his body pressing closer, his chest flush against yours. there’s a tenderness in the way he’s kissing you, an affectionate adoration that pours out from every fiber of his being.

gojo breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down at you, his eyes soft and sparkling in the dim moonlight. he traces his thumb over the soft skin of your cheek, his touch gentle and almost reverent. “you know,” he says, his voice quieter now, a hint of teasing still present in his tone, “you didn’t let me finish my demonstration.”

you chuckle, scrunching your nose out of a habit while you let your hand caressing his neck to his bare chest. “forget the demonstration, let’s just cuddle,” you murmur, “a naked one,” you added before giggling. gojo chuckled at your response, the sound deep and rich in his throat, his eyes sparkling with affection and amusement. he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before rolling onto his side, pulling you close against him, your body molding against his.

his arms encircled you, pulling you tight against his chest, his hand tracing lazy patterns on your back. “i suppose a naked cuddle is an acceptable alternative,” he teased, his voice low and affectionate. he nuzzled against your hair, burying his face in your neck. “you’re such a distraction, you know.”

you shook your head with a soft chuckle, gently pushing gojo’s face away from your neck. “i wanna see your face,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you held his gaze. your hand rested against his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin as you smiled warmly at him. “wanna see my boyfriend,” you said softly, taking in his face, appreciating the quiet intimacy.

gojo’s heart swelled at your words, a soft, almost shy smile spreading across his face. he leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression softening with each caress of your thumb against his skin.

“you’re such a sap,” he teased, his voice dripping with affection. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you even tighter against him, his free hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “i’m right here,” he murmured, his gaze locking with yours. “right where you want me to be.”

you hummed softly, the sound barely audible as the two of you lay there, lost in each other’s gaze. the room was filled with a quiet, intimate stillness, your cheek flushed against the soft pillow, while gojo’s warm presence enveloped you completely.

gojo’s fingers traced patterns on your back as the two of you lay together, his eyes lazily tracing the contours of your face, his fingers dancing over the dip of your waist before moving up to trace your jawline. there was no rush, no urgency, just the slow, languid movement of his hands against your skin, the quiet rhythm of your breathing filling the room. he leaned in slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “you have no idea how much i love these moments with you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

you hummed softly again, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you as gojo shifted slightly, settling onto his side to mirror your position. his cheek pressed into the pillow, and his bright blue eyes stayed fixed on yours, filled with that familiar mix of affection and playfulness.

your fingertips gently tugged a few strands of his hair behind his ear, then trailed across his scalp, eliciting a quiet sigh from him. your voice was barely audible as you murmured, “i love your eyes,” your thumb softly brushing over his temple.

a soft smile tugged at the corners of gojo’s lips as he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the sensation of your fingers in his hair. he nuzzled against your hand, his cheek pressing firmly against your palm, his expression relaxing further. “do you now?” he replied, his tone lilting with teasing. “what is it about them that you love so much?” his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours once again, a sparkle of mischief in their depths.

you hummed in confirmation, your voice gentle as your fingertips continued to glide softly over his scalp. “it’s beautiful,” you whispered, your tone sincere. “like i’m looking at the open sky, like i’m drowning in a warm ocean. it’s warm… it’s like summer.”

your words left gojo momentarily stunned. his usually confident, playful demeanor faltered as he stared at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. nobody had ever told him they loved his eyes, not for anything other than the immense power they held. but here you were, speaking so simply, so earnestly, about them.

gojo was silent for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the honesty and vulnerability in your words, his mind struggling to process the raw emotion in your voice.

he exhaled slowly, a soft, shaky breath slipping past his lips. no one had ever described his eyes like that before. to everyone else, they were a tool, a symbol of power, a weapon. but to you, they were something beautiful, something warm and comforting. he reached up, his hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path over your lips.

“you’re really something else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with a mix of awe and tenderness. he shifted closer to you, his chest pressing against yours, his leg slipping between yours. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him, burying his face in your neck. “you always say the most unexpected things,” he continued, his lips skimming against your skin, his breath hot and warm against your collarbone. “and you always leave me speechless.”

you gently pushed him away, just enough to create a bit of space between you, your fingers lightly pressing against his chest. “no, no, no,” you murmured, shaking your head with a soft laugh. “come on, don’t do that. i wanna see you.”

your eyes searched his, wanting to keep that connection, to see the emotion that flickered across his face whenever you said something unexpected. your fingers found their way back to his jawline, tracing the contours of his face as you gave him a small, playful smile. “i don’t like it when you hide,” you added softly, your thumb grazing over his bottom lip.

as you gently pushed him back and your fingers traced his jawline, gojo chuckled softly, his smile a mix of amusement and affection. he leaned back just enough to let you see his face, his eyes tracing over every feature, drinking you in.

your words linger in his ears, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. “i wasn’t hiding,” he protested, his tone lighthearted. “i was snuggling.” he couldn’t help but smile at your playfulness, his hand moving to caress your side, his fingers skating over the curve of your hip.

“you just make it so difficult to not bury my face in your neck,” he continued, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. “every time you say things like that, it sets my heart racing, and all i want to do is get closer, closer, closer.”

he pulled you flush against him, his body molding to yours, his arms wrapping around you like a tight embrace. he buried his head in the crook of your neck again, pressing his lips against your skin, inhaling your scent.

you groaned softly in protest, your hands coming up to gently push at his chest again. “oh, come on,” you whined playfully, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. “i said i want to see your face, not have you hide in my neck.”

gojo chuckled again, the sound muffled against your neck as he buried his face deeper into the crook. he knew he was being petulant and stubborn, but he couldn’t help it. he loved being close to you, the feeling of your body against his, your scent filling his lungs. “but it’s so comfortable here,” he protested, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “and you smell so good. and you’re so warm.”

you tried to tilt his head up, your fingers threading through his hair, but gojo only chuckled, tightening his hold on you. “just a little longer,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, clearly enjoying how much you were trying to pull him away.

gojo was clearly enjoying your struggle, his arms unyielding as he held onto you with a smirk on his face. he nuzzled against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, his voice low and teasing. “just a little longer,” he repeated, his voice filled with faux innocence. “i’m not tired yet. and you'’e so warm and soft, it would be wasteful to not take advantage of it.”

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he was lying halfway on top of you, his body completely covering yours, his weight pushing you down into the softness of the bed. “besides,” he murmured, his lips skimming over your jawline. “i think you secretly like having me pressed against you like this.”

you groaned, feigning annoyance, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, pulling him closer. “don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered, your lips brushing against his ear, though the smile on your face betrayed your playful mood. as you glanced down at his bare form, your eyes caught sight of his rear, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. without thinking, your hands slid down his back, and before he could react, you grabbed a handful of his cheeks, giving them a playful squeeze.

gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, a sharp intake of breath hissing through his teeth at your unexpected squeeze. he let out a yelp, the sound a mix of surprise and mild outrage. “hey!” he protested, lifting his head and looking down at you with amused indignation. “warn a guy next time!” he exclaimed through a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he shifted slightly, his body moving into a more comfortable position atop yours, a playful smirk spreading across his lips.

you burst into laughter, unable to contain your amusement. “it’s not my fault!” you teased, still chuckling. “it was just there, looking at me.” you punctuated your words with another playful taps on his rear, the sound light but cheeky.

gojo rolled his eyes, a mix of mock annoyance and amusement in his expression. he propped himself up on his arms, a sly smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you. “oh, so it’s my fault for having a perfectly shaped backside?” he teased, arching an eyebrow, his arms caging you in. “i think you’re just trying to cop a feel whenever you get the chance.”

you raised your eyebrows, a playful smirk on your face. “perfect?” you echoed, giving his ass another teasing squeeze. “more like flat! if i squeeze it, it feels like a bag of airbags!”you couldn’t help but laugh at the look of mock horror that crossed his face, and you leaned back against the pillows, clearly enjoying this banter. “seriously, baby, you need to work on that if you want to maintain your ‘perfect’ reputation!”

gojo’s eyes widened comically, his brows shooting up to his forehead. “airbags?!”he sputtered, his tone incredulous. “my ass is not bags of airbags, it's firm and toned and well-defined!” he feigned offense, a dramatic pout crossing his face as he pretended to be deeply wounded by your insult. “do you know how many squats i do? how many leg days i put in? this is an insult to my hard work and dedication!”

he leaned back, lifting his hips up so you could see the full expanse of his rear. “look at it! look at the muscle tone, the symmetry, the perfection,” he exclaimed, gesturing broadly. his tone was laced with playful sarcasm, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced down at you. “surely you’re not blind. you must see how flawlessly sculpted it is.”

you hummed thoughtfully as you looked at his rear, pretending to admire it. then, with a swift motion, you gave him a playful spank, laughing as you looked up at him. “yeah, flatass!” you teased, your voice light and filled with mischief.

gojo let out another exaggerated gasp, the sound filled with fake shock and indignation. he placed a hand over his heart, his expression one of mock hurt. “flatass?!” he exclaimed, feigning disbelief. “after all the hard work i put into sculpting this masterpiece? you wound me, babe. you truly wound me.” he leaned back down, his chest pressing against yours again, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll have you know, my behind is a work of art. a masterpiece of the human form.”

he leaned down, bringing his face close to yours, his expression still one of mock outrage, though his eyes sparkled with mirth. “i think you need to show me some appreciation, apologize for that baseless disparagement of my very well-maintained behind,” he teased, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

“baseless disparagement!?” gojo repeated, a hint of indignation in his voice. “i’ve never seen a more shameless display of disrespect. my backside deserves respect and admiration. and you, dear one, owe me payment for the slander you have inflicted upon it.”

he leaned down even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his eyes darkened with desire. “and i demand a proper apology. a thorough, passionate one.” your heartbeat quickened at the low rumble of his voice, a shiver running down your spine as he hovered over you. his proximity and the way his eyes sparkled with mischief made it hard to resist.

“oh, is that so?” you replied, feigning mock ignorance. “and how exactly do you want me to express this appreciation? a kiss? a squeeze? too bad suguru wasn’t here to back me up.”

gojo chuckled, his eyes filled with laughter as he shifted slightly, his body pressing even closer to yours. “now now, no bringing up my best friend while we’re having an intimate moment. that's cheating.” he leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “i think a sincere apology, one that involves your hands expressing their remorse, would suffice. and perhaps a few kisses, just to drive the point home, naturally.”

you raised your eyebrows, a playful smirk on your lips as you murmured, “yeah?” your fingers trailed slowly down his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. you reach lower, brushing your fingers to his happy trails and feeling his hardness pressing against your thigh.

you leaned in closer, your voice teasingly soft. “and what exactly do you want from me, oh great master of the flat ass?” your hand continued to explore, relishing the way his body reacted to your touch, eager to see how far you'd push this playful moment.

gojo chuckled again, his breath hot against your neck as he felt your fingers trailing down his chest, his body responding to your touch instinctively. he shifted slightly, arching his back as your fingers moved lower, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he felt your touch on his happy trail.

he leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear again, his voice a deep, rumbling murmur. “i want you to show your appreciation, darling. show me just how much you admire this apparent ’flat ass’ of mine.”

you murmured softly in his ear, your breath warm against his skin, “oh, i can definitely do that.” your lips brushed lightly against the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

with a sly smile, you pulled the cover over the both of you, wrapping yourselves in the warmth of the blanket. gojo chuckled, his grin widening as he realized your playful intent. “hiding, huh?” he teased, his voice low and amused as the blanket enveloped your naked both, creating a cozy cocoon around your entwined bodies. “i like where this is going.”

gojo’s heart raced as the blanket enveloped you both, his body instantly warmed by the close proximity of yours. he could feel your skin against his, your breath on his neck, the playful anticipation thrumming through his veins. he chuckled again, his smile matching your own as his hands roamed, exploring the curves of your body beneath the cover. “i can see where this is headed, naughty girl,” he teased, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.

he leaned in, his lips finding your neck, nibbling and kissing the sensitive skin there. his hands continued to roam, his touch a tantalizing mixture of firm and gentle as they explored your body with a possessive quality.

he shifted his position slightly, his body settling between your legs, his weight pressing against you as he hovered above you, the cover hiding your bodies from view. “you sure know how to play dirty,” he murmured, his voice filled with mischief and desire.

your arms wrapped around his broad shoulder, pulling him impossibly close to your naked body, his body curling around yours. a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, his chest brushing against yours.

“hiding? me? never.” you teased, his voice filled with amusement as you let out a soft moan. “just creating a little private sanctuary for us, away from the judgmental eyes of the world." you leaned in, breathe warmly against his shoulder, your teeth gently nipping at his shoulder. “just the two of us and this cozy blanket cocoon. just the two of us, no suguru. us.”

gojo grinned, his teeth nipping back at your shoulder, a playful growl escaping his throat. “a private sanctuary, hm?” he mused, his voice low and sultry as his hands slid down to grip your hips, pulling you closer into his embrace. “well then, i suppose we should make the most of our privacy.”

his lips trailed lower, kissing along your collarbone before planting a series of kisses across your chest, each one landing with more pressure than the last. he suckled gently on your nipple, teasing the hardened peak with his tongue, his hands still holding onto your hips firmly. “and don’t worry about suguru,” he whispered huskily, his voice vibrating against your skin. “i promise not to tell.”

the sensation of gojo’s mouth on your skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your toes curl underneath the covers. a soft gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back onto the pillow as he lavished attention on your breasts.

“mmm...” you hummed, arching your back slightly, pushing your chest further into his mouth. “that’s exactly what i was hoping for.” your hands moved down to his waist, slipping under the covers to explore the contours of his strong, toned body. your fingers traced the lines of muscle, feeling the ridges and dips of his abdomen, before eventually reaching lower, towards his throbbing member.

gojo’s eyes darkened with lust as he felt your fingers trail down his stomach, inching closer to his aching erection. a low groan rumbled in his chest, his hips involuntarily bucking up into your touch.

“careful now, naughty girl,” he warned, his voice thick with desire. “you’re playing with fire.” despite his words, he didn't stop you, instead, guiding your hand to wrap around his hard length, his breath hitching as your fingers closed around him.

he began to move, thrusting into your grip as he continued to lavish attention on your breasts, alternating between sucking and biting the tender flesh. his free hand slid down to join yours, helping to pump himself in time with your strokes. “fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw hunger and need.

the sound of his voice, laced with desire, sent another wave of heat rushing through your body. your grip tightened around his cock, stroking him slowly, deliberately, wanting to draw out every moan and gasp from his lips.

“you’re so hard...” you purred, leaning up to capture his lips in a searing kiss. your tongue danced with his, the taste of him filling your senses. you broke the kiss, panting heavily, your cheeks flushed with arousal. your eyes lock with his blue eyes, glow slightly under the cover.

gojo’s eyes glowed faintly beneath the cover, a sign of his growing excitement. his breathing became heavier, his muscles tensing as your skilled hand worked his shaft. he kissed you back fiercely, his tongue dominating yours, claiming your mouth as his own.

“hard for you,” he breathed when the kiss broke, his voice rough with need. “always so fucking hard for you.” he pushed your hand away suddenly, pinning both of your wrists above your head with one large hand. he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock nudging your slick folds. “tell me you want it,” he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

your breath hitched as he positioned himself at your entrance, your body quivering with anticipation. you arched your hips upwards, seeking more contact, craving the feel of him inside you.

“i want it,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, “i want you, baby. i want you, slow and gentle, i want to savor you, making love to me.”

your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him closer, silently begging him to fill you completely. your fingers curled into the sheets above you, your nails digging into the fabric as you waited for him to take you, to claim you as his own. your eyes bored into his, reflecting the same intense hunger that burned within them. your hand cupping his cheek gently, full of adoration and tenderness.

gojo’s expression softened at your words, his eyes shining with a mix of love and desire. he leaned into your touch, pressing a tender kiss to your palm before releasing your wrists and settling his weight on top of you.

“slow and gentle,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “anything for you, my love.” he captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss as he slowly pushed forward, sheathing himself inside you inch by delicious inch. a low groan tore from his throat at the feeling of your tight warmth enveloping him, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

when he opened them again, they were filled with adoration and devotion, mirroring the emotions swirling in your own gaze. he began to move, his thrusts measured and controlled, taking his time to savor every moment of your union.

the sensation of being filled by him, slowly and deeply, was overwhelming. your body trembled with pleasure, your inner walls clenching around his cock as he moved within you.

“baby..” you whimpered, your head thrown back in ecstasy. your hands roamed over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the ripple and flex beneath your fingertips. each stroke, each movement, brought you closer to the edge. you could see the love in his eyes, the care and concern reflected there, even amidst the lust and desire. it made your heart swell, made you love him even more.

“don’t stop...” you pleaded, your voice ragged with need, forehead pressed against his.

gojo’s pace remained steady, his movements deliberate and sensual, driven by the desperation to please you. he reveled in the way your body responded to him, the way you clung to him, the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.

“never, my love,” he vowed, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust. “i’ll never stop loving you, never stop wanting you.”

he captured your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your whimpers and pleas as he continued to make slow, passionate love to you. his free hand found its way to your breast, rolling and pinching your nipple between his fingers, adding an extra layer of stimulation to the already intense sensations.

the dual sensations of his cock moving inside you and his fingers teasing your nipples had you teetering on the brink of climax but not quite yet. your moans grew ragged, more urgent, your hips rising to meet his thrusts as you chased the impending orgasm but you try to hold yourself, wanting the moment last longer.

“i love you, satoru,” you cried out, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. your nails dug into his back, marking him as your own.

the air was thick from the lack of oxygen, filled with breathless moan, whimper and whining. it was quite dark, only the light illuminating from a slight gap. the two of you couldn’t stop whispering sweet nothing into each other’s ear.

“my love...” he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. “my beautiful, perfect love...” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

gojo’s grip on your breast tightened as he felt your body begin to tense, signaling your approaching climax. he increased the pressure on your sensitive nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. “i love you too, my beautiful girl,” he growled, his voice husky with desire.

“keep it slow, baby, want it slow, let me hold you for a moment,” you whisper, nose nuzzling against his sweaty cheek. your arm wraps around his broad shoulder while your other hand holds his bicep.

gojo’s movements slowed even further, becoming almost languid as he savored the intimate moment with you. he rested his forehead against yours, their noses touching, sharing ragged breaths.

“forever, my love,” he promised, his voice a low rumble. “i’ll hold you forever if that’s what you want.” his hand slid down to cradle your hip, pulling you impossibly closer, their bodies melding together in a perfect fusion of flesh and soul.

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his words and the sheer intensity of the connection between you. you nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

in this quiet, suspended moment, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it side by side, hand in hand, hearts entwined. the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the beauty and power of your love.

gojo brushed away the tears that escaped, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he gazed into your eyes. “my beautiful, tearful angel,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. “you're everything to me, now and always.”

he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a tender, loving kiss, pouring all his devotion and adoration into the gentle press of his lips against yours. in this perfect, peaceful instant, wrapped in each other’s arms, you both knew that your bond was unbreakable, a love that would endure through eternity.

your lips moved softly against his, returning the tender kiss with equal affection. your fingers intertwined with his, holding on tightly as if afraid to let go. a sense of contentment washed over you, filling you with warmth and happiness. you felt safe, loved, cherished— exactly where you belonged. “love you, satoru,” you murmured against his mouth, the words barely audible over the pounding of your hearts. “forever and always.”

your tears dried up, replaced by a warm, radiant smile. your lips parted under his, welcoming the soft, affectionate kiss. you ran your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, holding him close. “i’m yours, completely,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with so much love and commitment. your heart is beating faster, matching with his cock throbbing inside you.

gojo’s heart swelled with love and gratitude at your declaration, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “and i’m yours, my darling,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “for all eternity.”

he returned your kiss with renewed passion, his tongue delving into your mouth, exploring every inch of your warmth. his free hand roamed over your curves, mapping the contours of your body as if committing them to memory. “mine,” he growled possessively, his teeth grazing your lower lip. “all mine, now and forever.”

his hips began to move again, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency as the need for release became too great to ignore. he set a relentless pace, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes, determined to bring you both to the heights of ecstasy once more.

your body arched off the bed, responding eagerly to his movements. your nails dug into his back, leaving marks of ownership as you clung to him. the pleasure was building within you, coiling tight like a spring ready to snap.

“i’m yours,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desire, “yours... —keep moving like that baby, my boy..” you moan, skating your fingers to his nape and putting a pressure there with your fingers.

the room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, mixed with your cries of pleasure and gojo’s guttural groans. your breasts bounced rhythmically with each of his thrusts, nipples hardening even further under his touch.

“that’s it, my love,” gojo panted, his voice strained with exertion and pleasure. “take all of me, every inch.” he could feel your walls fluttering around his shaft, signaling your impending climax. he redoubled his efforts, angling his hips to hit that special spot deep inside you with each thrust, determined to send you hurtling over the edge.

“come for me, my beautiful girl,” he urged, his breath hot against your ear. “let go, i’ve got you.”

one hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. the added stimulation proved to be your undoing, and with a keening cry, you came undone beneath him, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.

your vision went white as the pleasure crashed over you, wave after wave of pure bliss radiating from your core. you screamed his name, your voice raw and hoarse, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

“satoru! baby, fuuuck!” you groan, feeling your inner walls clench around his hard cock. your whole body trembled and shook, overcome by the intense sensations coursing through you. you felt gojo’s cock twitch inside you, growing even harder as your walls contracted around him. you knew he was close, teetering on the brink of his own release. “cum for me baby, let me feel your love.”

gojo grunted, his hips jerking as he felt your walls clamping down on him. “fuck, that’s it,” he gasped, his body shuddering with the effort of holding back. his grip tightened on your hips, digging his fingers into your flesh as he pistoned in and out of you. he could feel his climax approaching, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to sweep him away.

“god, you’re so fucking tight,“ he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “i’m gonna fill you up, my sweet girl. take all of me.”

you moaned loudly as gojo’s cock throbbed inside you, his hot cum filling you up. you clenched your muscles around his cock, milking him for everything he had. your body was still trembling from your own orgasm, but you managed to keep yourself upright as gojo emptied himself inside you. “so good... so fucking good.”

gojo collapsed onto you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. “damn, you’re incredible,” he muttered, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. he held you close, his large frame wrapping protectively around you like a cocoon. “i love you so much, my beautiful girl,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of affection.

he stayed buried inside you, not yet ready to separate their joined forms. the afterglow of their lovemaking enveloped them, making the room seem warmer, softer. you cuddled closer to gojo, your body still tingling from the intensity of your orgasms. you felt satisfied, complete, in a way that nothing else could give you.

“i love you too, satoru,” you murmured, your voice just as soft as his. “more than anything else.” you felt gojo's seed starting to leak out of you, trickling down your thighs and the bed below.

you pull the blanket off you both and take a deep breath, “finally, i can breath.”

gojo chuckled as you finally pulled back the cover, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. he rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, his arms wrapped around your waist. “you were getting all hot and bothered under there, weren’t you, my little sauna?” he teased, a playful grin on his face.

he glanced down, his eyes tracing the path of his seed leaking out of you, and he couldn't help a soft sigh escaped him. “damn, that’s a sight,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction. he leaned down, his lips gently brushing against your neck, his hands caressing your skin. “you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice laced with affection. “so damn perfect.”

you chuckle, frowning a little with his choice of nickname. “my little sauna? what an odd nickname you’ve got there,“ you tease, voice light and full of amusement. your sweaty arms find gojo’s broad shoulder and draw him closer, skin-to-skin with your chest.

gojo chuckled at your comment, enjoying the lighthearted banter between you two. “hey, i think it's a good nickname,” he retorted, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “it suits you, what with all that heat and wetness you generate.”

he let you pull him closer, relishing the feel of your skin against his, the sweat making your bodies slick and sticky. his arms encircled your waist, holding you close as he settled against you, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. he nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply, his breath warm against your skin.

“mmm, you smell good,” he murmured, his nose buried in your hair. you hummed softly at his comment, a teasing smile spreading across your face. “that’s just the smell of sex,” you replied playfully, your voice laced with mischief.

gojo chuckled again, his lips curving into a boyish grin as he nuzzled your hair. “well, i’m not complaining,” he responded, his voice low and suggestive.

he shifted his position slightly, his body shifting closer to yours as he continued to hold you close. his hand moved to the small of your back, gently tracing small circles with his fingertips. “and i think you smell even better than usual,” he murmured, his lips finding their way to your neck again, his tongue tracing a path down your throat.

you pushed gojo’s face away from your neck, turning to lay face to face with him. your hands cupped his cheeks, your gaze steady and sincere as you looked into his eyes.

“but i love the sex, it feels good, slow and gentle,” you confessed softly, a warm smile gracing your lips. your thumb leaving stars on his blushing cheeks, “i love feeling your skin on mine. it's different from the sex we used to have. just you and me, no suguru, just us. it’s such a nice feeling.”

gojo’s expression softened as he looked into your eyes, his own filling with tenderness. he reached up to hold your hands, keeping them against his cheeks. “yeah, it is,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere. “it’s different, more intimate, more...real. it’s just us, no distractions, no one else but us. and i love it too. love feeling you close, feeling our bodies touch, feeling completely connected to you.“

he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes searching yours. “being with you like this, it’s like coming home.”

he paused for a moment, taking in the feel of your skin against his, the warmth of your touch. “you know, this is my favorite part,” he confessed quietly.

he shifted his position slightly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you even closer. “after we finish, just lying here, holding you, feeling your skin on mine. it’s like...i don’t know, like being in another world or something.” he traced gentle circles on your skin with his fingertips, his touch light and comforting.

you hummed softly, still smiling at his words. “i feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice warm. “it's not that i don't enjoy our time together as three, because i really do. but sometimes, having a moment just with one of you feels completely different.”

you paused, glancing at him mischievously, decided to ruin the moment, “but, you know, i can't wait for you to go on a mission so i can have more time like this with suguru.”

spending time with one of them feels uniquely special compared to the moments you share as a trio. when it’s just the two of you, there’s an intimacy that wraps around you like a warm blanket—every shared glance and touch deepens your connection in ways that sometimes get lost in the dynamic of three. it’s in those quiet moments, just you and him, where you can truly let your guard down and fully be yourselves.

it’s not that you don’t enjoy the moments with all three of you; they’re filled with laughter, camaraderie, and shared adventures. but there’s something profoundly satisfying about having one-on-one time. you can dive into deeper conversations, explore vulnerabilities, and create an atmosphere where you both feel entirely seen and cherished.

you know they understand this need for balance, too, even without words. the subtle way they look at you when it’s just the two of you speaks volumes, a silent acknowledgment of this shared desire for deeper connection. it's these moments that make your bond stronger, allowing each of you to appreciate the unique qualities the other brings to the relationship.

gojo chuckled at your playful remark about suguru, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“oh, so that’s how it is, eh?” he retorted, feigning mock offense. “you’re eager to kick me out on a mission so you can have more alone time with my dearest friend.” he squeezed your hips possessively, his grip firm and possessive. “maybe i’ll deliberately drag my feet on my next assignment then.”

he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered in a low, teasing tone. “can’t have you spending too much quality time with suguru, now can i? i need to maintain my status as the favorite, after all.” he nibbled at your earlobe gently, his teeth grazing your skin. “i can’t have him stealing your heart, sweetheart. i’ll have to make sure you don’t forget about me.“

you let out a soft laugh, feigning a dramatic gasp as you pulled back slightly to look into gojo’s eyes. “oh please, suguru already stole my heart ages ago,” you teased, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

“but don’t worry,” you added with a wink, “there’s plenty of room for two favorites. besides, you know my heart has a soft spot just for you, too.” you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger for a moment before pulling away, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “but you’ll have to work a little harder to keep that title, won’t you?”

gojo chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a mix of playful challenge and affection. he wrapped his arms more firmly around your waist, pulling you against him.

“oh, i know you’re just trying to rile me up, you little tease,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of mock annoyance. “but i’m not gonna let suguru steal you away that easily. you’re mine, remember?” he tilted your chin up, his thumb tracing along your jawline, his blue eyes holding yours captured. “i’ll do whatever it takes to keep that title, you bet your sweet ass i will.”

“oh you do, do you?”

gojo’s smirk grew wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh, absolutely,” he confirmed, his voice laced with confidence. “i’ll show you just how serious i am about keeping my title, my little sweet heart.”

he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath hot against your skin. “i’ll work extra hard to make sure you never even think about suguru while we’re together. all your attention will be on me, and me alone. you won’t even have a chance to miss him.”

gojo’s hands roamed over your skin, his touch possessive as he pulled you even closer, their bodies touching just about everywhere.

“i’ll make sure you'l’re so enthralled by me, so completely captivated, that you won’t even remember what your dear other boyfriend looks like,” he murmured, his voice a low growl against your ear. “you’ll be too busy relishing in the feeling of my touch, the sound of my voice, the heat of my body.”

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