#but its shall not prosper

[kyle1]

*looking at all my new followers*

These.. are mine. 🥰

[erikkarlsson]

tomas hertl 1 point in 7 playoff games god smiles upon me

[thornsent]

I should start keeping track of posts I'd like to cross stitch/embroider

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Word count: 5.1k+

Warnings: tensionnnnnn, alcohol consumption (just wine) & fluff! English isn’t my first language <3

A/n: ‘m not gonna say anything more than just that ITS THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW!! Reblog & comments are most appreciated🍊🧡

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Updates: every Saturday!!

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Chapter 3: The beginning of something new

He leans back on the chair, his book abandoned next to him on the desk as he carves a line on the wooden pallet, his glasses on the bridge of his nose, the sound of wood getting cut echoing in the old workshop.

He’s been here since early morning, all of his thoughts are consumed by you and your talk a few days ago. There’s still a part of him that is immensely guilty for how he treated you, especially after you told him about that Lannister boy. 

He is heard and understood, maybe not by someone he expected, but the sweetness and calmness in this revelation makes it more special. You’ve been in the background image of his life for so long, someone always present yet too far and out of reach. But now, you’ve turned into someone important, someone he can rely on and trust wholeheartedly. 

He sighs, letting the chisels fall from his hand on the table as he stretches his arms, groaning as he cracks his back and slowly lumps in the chair, glancing at Vhagar who does the same and slowly walks towards him, jumping on him to cuddle — the chair is so little to have them both sitting on it together, so Aemond has to hold Vhagar to his chest with a hand under her belly while she rests her head on his forearm as the other hand rubs slowly circle on her back.

Vhagar barks suddenly, jumping down to go near the door, alerting Aemond that someone is coming. He also stands up, grabs his abandoned book from the table, and walks towards Vhagar who is clawing at the door before he opens it and lets her out, locking the door workshop’s door behind him.

He follows her, watching as she bolts through the bushes and trees to reach whoever is approaching them. He hears your voice, melodically and softly when you start talking to Vhagar, giggling and letting her probably lick your face.

“Morning!” You say as soon as you spot him, strengthening your back before you stand up, holding two cups of coffee in your hands, “I couldn’t find you in the library, so I thought you’re probably taking a walk with your old lady.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “we had an early morning, and she gets restless and impatient when she doesn’t set foot outside.”

“Here’s your coffee, little nerd,” you hand him his cup, stepping closer to him until you’re only mere inches away from him, looking up at him through your lashes.

Aemond’s break is stuck in his throat as he looks down at you, he gulps when he sees you reach for his face, pushing his glasses up so he sees better. Your touch is warm against his skin, but your smile is warmer, more welcoming than anything he’s ever seen.

Get a grip, he thinks to himself as he thanks you quietly, clearing his throat before he wraps his long fingers around the hot mug. 

“Let’s take a walk, shall we?” He asks, glancing back at the workshop door quickly.

“What’s that?” You turn around and follow his gaze, pointing at the door hiding behind the trees.

“Oh, um, that…” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, “nothing, just an abandoned storeroom,” Aemond shrugs, the book in his hands falling to the ground as his palm grows clammy.

“Shit—“

“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” you crouch down to grab the book, smiling softly when you look up and find Aemond turning red with embarrassment, especially when you glance at the book in your hand, “No way.”

“Give me that, please—“ he tries to snatch it out of your hand, but you hold it behind your back, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, taking a sip from your coffee to hide your smile, “tell me why you are reading Maester Orwyle’s book of Philosophy!”

“To kill some time, now please—“ he sighs, gesturing to you to give him the book by his hand while the ghost of a smirk finds its way to his face, “Don’t be ridiculous and give me the book so we can both go back to the house.”

“Nope,” you take a step away from him and he matches your huge grin as he extends his hand again, “if you want it, you should come get it.”

“Come on,” Aemond groans, “I’m not the five-year-old kid who used to chase you around the house to steal one of your books!”

“I’m not saying you should chase me, but maybe say please a few more times then I’ll agree—no!” You squeal when he leans over and snatches the book out of your hands, his tall and lean frame making it impossible for you to hold it back anymore, “You’re no fun!”

“Someone has to be the adult of this friendship,” he says, securing the book under his arm as he walks ahead of you, turning around to look at you, pointing at the path in front of you with his head, “Come on.”

“Fine, fine!” You laugh, following him towards the path leading to the backyard and the Weirwood tree.

The sound of friendship left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, something he only felt when Alys would give him backhanded compliments, but he knows you, maybe even much better than he ever knew his ex-fiance, and with the talk you had a few days ago, he is left confused. Not by your actions no, but by your words; it is hard to find someone who’s had the same experience, especially with someone so understanding and willing to share them.

“Don’t sulk now, Little nerd,” you bump your shoulder to him, watching him take a long sip of his coffee, “tell me about the book, it mustn’t be the first time you’re reading it.”

“Of course not,” he sighs and continues, “he was a friend of my grandfather, no one knows what happened to their friendship after this book was written, but apparently all the answers are in this—“

“You can’t be reading this giant hard-to-swallow book just because you wanna know about your grandpa's failed friendship,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, “come on, tell me the truth!”

“No,” he gives you a pointed look, “this is the truth.”

“Alright,” you smile at him, not wanting to pressure him if he truly doesn’t wish to explain it, walking side by side with him until the trees are behind you except the Weirwood tree that looks so beautiful under the morning sunlight.

“The coffee is perfect…” he hums in delight as he glances at you, holding the mug in one hand with his arm keeping the book rightly against his body while he puts his right hand on the small of your back, walking slowly to your right side to be able to look at you more comfortably.

“My goodness, Aemond, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize—“ you try to apologize but he cuts you off with a slow shake of his head.

“It’s okay, don’t fret about it,” he rubs circles on your waist as you walk towards the house, the sunshine casting a glow on your face, and he fights off a smile when he sees how your eyes shine, “how did you find out I like my coffee with three sugars?”

“You’re not too hard to read,” you chuckle a little leaning to his side as he keeps his palm secured on your waist, “I observe people, mostly my friends and I wanted to make sure you were alright after everything, so I kept a close eye on you. Turns out you have a horrible sweet tooth!”

“You haven’t seen the worst of it yet,” he teases you, finishing his coffee in a sip, “Hel and I used to bake together, a silly hobby she took when Viserys and Mum separated. It was only simple cakes and bread but you know me, I can’t settle for less than perfection.”

“So you started to get better and better.”

“Yeah, it turns out Hel & I would make an excellent team, many of the birthday cakes were on us,” he explains, handing you the book so you’d hold it for him so he can open the door for you when you reach the building, “if you’re lucky, you’ll get a special birthday cake from me one day.”

“Stop being so talented—oh, fuck—“ you yell in shock when Vhagar runs past the two of you, knocking to your legs, making you lose your grip on your coffee and having it spill on Aemond’s book.

“I’m so sorry, fuck, I should have finished it first…” your voice grows quieter as you open the drenched book, reading the first page’s note, “Is this…?”

“Yeah,” he nods, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “it’s yours.”

“No wonder I was looking for it when I got back home after another vacation spent here,” you laugh, tracing your finger over the blue note, “I caught you reading it in your old stable. Why would you go there to read?” It was full of horseshit, yet you seemed to like it.”

“Well, it was the only place no one seemed to want to spend any time there. Best place to read the book I stole from you,” he follows you inside the building to the kitchen to leave your cups there, “besides, you’d find me and discuss the book anyway, maybe I wanted you to find me.”

“You seem to enjoy that, don’t you? Me always finding you?” You ask him after you put the book on the kitchen island, turning around to look at him.

It seems like he has caged you with his body, he is standing close, probably closer than he should but not too much to deem it inappropriate for friends, and when you look up at him, he is sure the distance between the two of you has decreased considerably — physically and mentally.

“I like the idea,” he whispers, his good eye never leaving your face as you stare at each other before he clears his throat and pulls away a bit, giving you an awkward smile, “I think Hel and others are in the TV room.”

You nod hesitantly, moving past him towards the other room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. He sighs shakily, swallowing the lump in his throat before he decides to join you after he puts his cup away.

When he enters the room he finds you leaning on the back of the coach and Helaena is curled up on your side with Dreamfyre resting her head on Hel’s calves. His brothers are playing yet another round of Mortal Kombat — which he is sure Aegon insisted on. He looks around for Vhagar, and when he can’t find her, he assumes she must be in the library, taking her morning nap.

“Morning.”

“Hey, Aemy!” Aegon greets him, “We thought you were kidnapped when you didn’t join us for breakfast.” “Fuck off, I don’t have the patience to deal with you today,” Aemond grumbles, throwing his head back, and closing his eye before he is hit by a cushion, followed by a loud snort and soft giggles from you and Helaena, “What the fuck was the for?”

“You need to have patience! This is our summer, we will be annoying you until you give up this crappy attitude and enjoy your time with us here! Who knows when we’ll gather together like this again! You live here now with Daeron and Mum, I live in Oldtown, She,” Helaena points at you, “lives in Rosby, and Aegon… well he floats around the country.”

“I have a home, you little bitch—” “Doesn’t seem like it when you constantly show up at our places,” you say, earning a loud gasp from Aegon before he pouts and rolls his eyes at you, turning around towards Daeron with a glare when he laughs at him before he says ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ and they start playing again.

“You know what we should do this week?” Helaena asks suddenly, sitting up with glee, “Aegon should throw one of his infamous parties! That way not only our dear brother will get better and forget about everything even for a few hours, but we get to have some fucking fun!”

“I thought you didn’t like parties,” Daeron pauses the game, turning around to give his sister a pointed look. Aemond does the same, but instead, he glances at you and finds you already looking at him, giving him a tight-lipped awkward smile before the two of you look away from each other and focus on Helaena.

“I do! But that doesn’t mean I loathe them, besides, Aegon’s parties are fun, they are not like Mum’s when we have to sit in awfully formal clothes, sipping on champagne like high-class ladies.”

“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you are a high-class lady,” you say, earning a nod from everyone in the room.

“That’s not my point,” she groans, chuckling when you side-eye her, “I just wanna have fun, and Aegon is fun—” “Did you hear that, pirate?” Aegon points at Aemond, laughing when he is met with a glare from his younger brother, “She thinks I’m fun, not you, me!”

“Don’t make her change her mind,” Aemond sighs, sneering at his older brother. “Aemond is fun, mind you,” you defend him, giving Aegon a pointed look which makes Daeron laugh out loud, “You are just too chaotic to  understand him.” “And you do?” Aegon scoffs, and Aemond senses something is going to happen, that his brother can’t simply keep his large mouth shut, “his fiance didn’t find him fun—” “Jeez, Aegon!” Daeron yells, face twisted in disbelief.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask him, scoffing at Aegon’s scared look, “You are always mean to him.” “I am not!” “Shut the fuck up I’m talking,” Aemond looks at you, surprised by your outburst, “he needs your support more than ever, his face and his life are now all over the fucking internet! Have you considered how hurt he must be? Of course, you haven’t because you don’t think. He doesn’t need to be reminded of what happened constantly when he is trying his best to move on!”

“I—” Aegon can’t say anything as he looks at you like you have grown another head.

Aemond is as equally shocked as others, he fights off a huge smile as he watches you defend him, his lips parted in surprise, jaw on the floor while you talk and put Aegon in his place.

“Morning my loves,” Alicent comes to the rescue, looking around the room to find Helaena and Aemond looking at you with a pleased smile while Aegon shrinks under your gaze and Daeron nearly falls on the floor with how hard he’s laughing, “What’s going on here?” “I thought maybe I could throw a party!” Aegon speaks, avoiding your gaze as he looks at his mum, “A month has passed from summer and I have yet to throw one of my infamous spontaneous parties!” “Alright, but you know—” “I know, I know! In the guest wing, no drugs, no strippers—” “You brought strippers to your parties?” Aemond asks, giving Aegon a disapproving look who in return only smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at him.

“Did you forget your insanely cool bachelor party? Did you think I brought random girls to give you a lap dance—” “Okay enough!” Alicent laughs awkwardly, “There are better times to discuss these matters! I have more important things to tell you.” “Like what?” Daeron asks.

“New Gossip Girls season dropped?” Aegon looks at you shrugging when you snort at his question.

“Be serious for a fucking second please,” Aemond warns his brother before he looks at Alicent softly, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, nothing! In fact, I kind of have a surprise for all of you. Not a huge surprise but I wanted to take you somewhere,” she explains, stroking her neck in nervousness.

“Where do you wanna take us, Mum? Hopefully nowhere near Father,” Hel says, making everyone sigh in relief when Alicent shakes his head.

“No, of course not!” she scoffs as if even the idea of seeing her ex-husband disgusted her — and it did — she continued, “Do you remember when I told you I had put the winery under a reconstruction? And specifically told you to not go there?”

“No?” Daeron answers, confused as he tries to remember when Alicent told them to not go there, “I doubt you did, Mum.”

“You have a winery?” you ask, a joyful smile comes on your face when Hel nods excitedly.

“Not just a winery but a vineyard!” “Oh, wow! I had no idea!” “Well, it’s your lucky day because now it’s useable again!” Alicent matches your enthusiasm, “Also, this is not just to show you the vineyard, but…” she looks at Aemond, “It’s Aemond’s birthday too!” “It’s not,” he replies, glancing at you quickly, “It’s in a few weeks.”

“Well it doesn’t matter because I am going to throw a party for you, and for that, we need to have a winetasting session and choose a few bottles for that occasion!”

“Mum, there is no need—” “Do shut up, asshole,” Aegon teases him, “what do you mean there is no need? Those are gonna be for your birthday, and also, I don’t have to drink in secret!” “I’m afraid I agree with Aegon,” Hel says, you and Daeron nod in encouragement, and Aemond has no choice but to also agree and surrounder, but it’ll be worth it, he thinks, because the way your eyes light up at the idea of visiting their vineyard makes his heart beat faster.

“Alright then” Alicent claps, shooing you all out of the TV room, “Wear something cool, I don’t want you to get sick under this god-awful heat.”

••••••••••

You and Hel put on your sundresses and you help her apply sunscreen on the back of her neck, covering her pale skin so she won’t burn under the awfully hot sun. The weather is exceptionally warm today and you regret agreeing to go to the vineyard without cars as soon as you step outside.

Aemond and Aegon are already there, smoking together as they wait for you and Hel to reach them. Aemond sends an endearing smile your way when he spots you, taking in the sight of you; you look beautiful, with your smile and the baby blue sundress you are wearing.

“Alright, ladies! Choose your gentleman— hey! At least let me finish,” Aegon whines when you loop your arm with Aemond, making a gagging sound when Aemond rests his palm on top of yours, “Ew, get a fucking room. Come on, Hel, we’re cooler than them.”

You chuckle when Aegon throws his arm around Helaena’s shoulders, taking the lead towards the vineyard not before he gives you a middle finger.

“Asshole,” you mutter, leaning your head on Aemond’s arm as you walk side by side, “since when did you guys have a vineyard? I’ve been Helaena’s friend for years and not once did she mention anything about it.”

“It was Viserys’ vineyard, everything belonged to him, but after Mum filed for divorce and the evidence she had against him, he gave it all away,” he explains, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “I’m glad though, Mum deserves this. I mean we weren’t in need of a huge house in King’s Landing, Old Town was enough for us anyway, but after what he put her through, she really deserved it.”

“Alicent is strong, I’m not sure if I could handle such a mind wrecking thing,” you sigh, squeezing his arm as you smile at the memories you wish to tell him, “I remember when your parents were getting divorced, Helaena would spend days with me at my Grandparents’ country house, she’d bring Dreamfyre too. It felt like an eternity when we were together.”

“Hel has that effect, time doesn’t pass with her,” He agrees, both of you waving when Helaena looks back and blows you a kiss, “I feel like that with you too, maybe because we have shared interests.”

“You’re lucky,” you reply softly, bumping your shoulder to his, “because I feel the same. Every talk we have had since we were kids till now is a core memory of mine. Yeah, Hel will always be my favorite, my best friend, but you are different from everyone I’ve met, you mean so much to me.”

“You’re a dear friend or at least a dear friend to my sister,” he laughs a little, “I remember those days though, it was just me and Daeron in this huge house. Aegon was somewhere probably fucking and drinking and doing drugs while I had to take care of Daeron. He was too young to understand anything.”

“I wish things were different…”

“I don’t,” you look at him, confused and intrigued, “Maybe my eye, yes, but… I’m glad he is no longer a part of our lives, I could care less if he drops dead tomorrow, I’m happy he is no longer here to pester us about Rhaenyra or anyone.”

As soon as you try to answer him, a huge truck goes past you at a fast pace, and in an instant, Aemond wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you to his side, keeping you close to his body as he steps between you and the road.

You pant, hands fisting the front of his shirt in terror as you try to regain your breathing. Aemond looks down at you, his fingers keeping you tightly against him as his other hand reaches to caress your cheek.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you nod, resting your forehead on his chest as he embraces you, “Yeah, I think I am.”

“We’re here, come on,” he finds Aegon and Hel already waiting for you, and gestures for you to follow them inside, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Little nerd, I’m fine,” you reach and squeeze his hand, holding it as you walk through the entrance of the winery, finding Alicent, Daeron, and Cole already there.

“We’ll start with the winery!” Alicent announces, walking ahead of everyone with Criston on her side, “I’ve asked Qoren Martell to send us a very professional wine taster from Dorne to help us choose, and… here he is!”

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Hightower,” the old man nods at Alicent, shaking her hand gracefully, “I’ve been told you produce different wines here.”

You let go of Aemond and meet Helaena midway as she takes your hand and walks with you behind her Mum and Cole, pointing at different parts of the winery. At first, you see the huge Grape-filled bowls getting crushed, the noises are loud but the fruits look so juicy and sweet.

“This is incredible!” You tell Hel as the group walks toward the next room, watching in awe how huge these oak barrels are. There are probably hundreds of them, with one glass under each so if someone wants to taste the wine straight from the barrels would have easy access.

Helaena pulls you to the next room, not just you but the Targaryen siblings are shocked as well.

“You genius,” Aegon calls his mother, “This is insane!” “I have to agree,” Aemond looks around with his hands in the pocket of his shorts as he walks toward you and Helaena, “Our previous wine cellar was so little it barely fit two people in it. This is…” “Gorgeous,” you finish his sentence and take a good look at the wine cellar; the room is rounded, the walls are curved and the temperature is low to keep the bottles cold. The shelves start from the ground to the ceiling, all of them filled to the brim with different wines in each specific section, 

“It’s amazing, right?” Alicent asks, looking at her handiwork excitedly.

“You’re amazing…” It came out as a really really hushed whisper, but you and Aemond heard it correctly, Cole did say that.

You press your lips to contain your laugh when your eyes meet Aemond’s, finding him shaking his head as he reaches to rub over the huge round dining table in the middle of the room, smoothing his palm over the surface of the wood.

“Shall we start?” Alicent asks, and when you all say yes, she tells the older man to bring the bottles one by one.

You take a seat with Hel and Aemond on your sides at the table, waiting for the old Dornish man to bring the bottles. You see two other men bring a few plates filled with different cheeses and bread rolls.

“When will we see the vineyard?” You ask the siblings, pouting when Aemond chuckles at you, “Hey! Not everyone grew up with tons of money.”

“I’m not making fun of you if that’s what you’re thinking,” he replies, reaching to play with the rim of his glass, his white shirt stretching against his biceps, “your eagerness is cute.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You hide your face in your hands, laughing when Hel reaches to stroke your back, “Fine, but you need to take me there as soon as we’re done here.”

“Whatever you want,” he says, and all of you watch as Cole and the old man bring four bottles; Cabernet Sauvignon, Dornish Red, Rosè, and Chardonnay.

“Bring it on, old man,” Aegon whistles, plopping down on the chair next to the head of the table, bowing his head dramatically when Alicent sits.

You start with the Dornish Red and observe all of the siblings closely; Helaena sips gently and takes a piece of cheese immediately, Daeron and Alicent go on the exact same pace while humming at the same time, Aegon chugs the entire liquid and doesn’t let interest even for a second but Aemond… well you have only seen this move in social media but to see his slim and elegant fingers wrapped around the thin glass as he first looks at the color of the wine then swirls the liquid around before taking a whiff of the smell and after that a sip that follows with a deep rumbling from his chest.

You look away as soon as you sense he might turn around and catch you red-handed, taking a long sip of your glass before coughing at the too-sour taste of it.

“Not your favorite, huh?” Hel asks, handing you a piece of bread.

“Absolutely not,” you clear your throat before shooting Aemond a glare when he chuckles at you, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, “Come on, let's taste the next one.”

The next one is the white wine, it tastes much better than the Dornish Red, less sour but the bitterness of it is intolerable — you are by no means new to drinking alcohol, but wine has always been a tricky drink for you. You go through the third bottle as well, but again, it doesn’t taste excellent, until Aemond opens the Rosè, his arm bulging as he pulls up the corkscrew, making a delicious sound of ‘pop’. 

“Here you go!” Alicent says as she brings a huge plate of lime and Tangerines to the table to cleanse your pallets before you have the next drink.

“How did you find Tangerines in the summer?” You ask excitedly, side eyeing Aemond as he pours the wine in your glasses before he sits down and grabs the Tangerine from you.

“Not easy to find, but you can trust Criston with these things,” she looks at Cole who’s standing in the door frame with a glass of Dornish Red. How typical.

“What are you doing?” You ask Aemond before you take a sip from your drink, humming in joy as you finally taste the most delicious Rosè you could have ever had.

“What does it look like? I’m peeling it for you,” he answers as if you have asked the most stupid question ever.

“Oh, okay, thank you,” you smile at him, completely dumbfounded by the amount of consideration he’s shown towards you today. You must look so bashful as you avert your eyes from him and stare into your glass, trying to stop the thoughts from flowing in your mind.

“Here,” he hands you the peeled Tangerine before he rises up from his seat and extends his hand to you, “come on, I promised you a tour and the vineyard looks so beautiful now.”

“Alright,” you put your hand in his, letting him pull you on your feet effortlessly, keeping you straight when you wobble a bit. You thank him shyly, reaching to grab your glass as well and leave the wine cellar. 

“Why did the previous cellar not have enough room for all of you?” You ask suddenly, eating a piece of the Tangerine and offering him one as he leads you towards the staircase that reaches the vineyard.

“It was Viserys’, not ours,” he shrugs, “besides, Daeron and I were underage, we couldn’t drink—“

“This is… beautiful,” you exclaim the moment you step on the grass-covered path, the rows of Grenache trees have made a breathtaking sight, “how can you visit here so little? This is out of this world!”

“I’m glad you like it here,” Aemond smiles softly at you, watching as you slowly walk through the path, finishing your fruit before you reach and take one of the leaves between your fingers, slowly caressing it before taking a sip of your wine.

“It’s so dreamy, why didn’t you hold your wedding here?” You facepalm yourself, giving him an apologetic smile, “Sorry…”

“Sometimes people just… forget, and I think that’s what I want too, but… the wound is still fresh, I think about her more than I should,” he steps next to you, one hand in his pocket while the other swirls the rose wine in his glass, “besides, this place is too beautiful to waste it on someone like Alys, yeah, I loved her but…I was blinded by her sweet words.”

“I know, it’ll take a little while to get there, you know. Sometimes you feel unworthy, so ugly and bruised by everything but… it’ll get better.”

“It will, this place helps a bit, and I’m sure Aegon’s massive parties will be very helpful as well,” he grins at you.

“Yeah? Well, it definitely feels like a new beginning, right?” You ask him, taking a step away from him, biting your lip while smiling, keeping your eyes on him as he scoffs, “Which one will you choose for your birthday party, sir?”

“Which one did you like?” He asks and takes a step forward, finishing his glass. He hears his Mum calling you to go for lunch, but before you go, you answer him.

“The Rosè.”

[littlefireball]

can you do a fic with Ateez Seonghwa x virgin reader? Where she never even touched herself, never orgasmed or squirted so Seognwha does all that and they go the full way but she bleeds when he goes in but mother seognwha knows what to say to push her through and get her to the pleasure. From their she squirts on him while he goes rough?

🐈‍⬛

I add some settings on it (⁠ʘ⁠ᴗ⁠ʘ⁠✿⁠) hope you like it

ꜱʜ|ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ꜱᴡᴇᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ (ᴀ/ᴍ)

ꜰᴀᴋᴇ ɢᴏᴅ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ꜱᴀᴄʀɪꜰɪᴄɪᴀʟ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴍᴏᴍᴍʏ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏᴜꜱ, ʙʟᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.2ᴋ

In a secluded and desolate village, an inexplicable prosperity has taken root, defying all logic and expectations. The villagers attribute this miraculous transformation to the blessing of a mysterious deity, whose influence has brought life back to the barren land.

However, this prosperity comes at a grim cost - the sacrifice of an 18-year-old virgin every hundred years. The purity and sincerity of the sacrifice are believed to prolong the village's prosperity, as decreed by the deity worshipped by the villagers.

For unmarried women like you, reaching the age of eighteen brings a looming nightmare rather than the promise of adulthood. From a young age, you've witnessed your younger brother bask in the favor and attention of your family, while you remained in the shadows, neglected and unappreciated.

To your parents, you are merely a pawn in their pursuit of wealth. If you marry into a prosperous family before turning eighteen, it's deemed a success; but if you remain unmarried, you are destined to be the sacrificial offering.

Growing up devoid of love, surrounded by loneliness and ignorance, you've struggled against the unfair expectations placed upon you. Despite your efforts to resist, you were met with scolding and mistreatment, leaving you isolated and unheard.

One day, as your entitled brother demanded your servitude, you felt a surge of resentment at his audacity. Reluctantly complying with his demands, you couldn't shake the bitterness that had taken root within you.

Confronting him about his reckless behavior with the family's money, you were met with denial and deflection. Your parents, quick to defend your brother, silenced your attempts to speak up, leaving you feeling betrayed and abandoned.

As you were confined to the cabin, awaiting the inevitable sacrifice on your eighteenth birthday, the weight of injustice and abandonment pressed heavily upon you. The darkness surrounding you mirrored the bitterness that had seeped into your soul, a stark contrast to the prosperity that had come at such a high price.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, laughter still echoed through the halls of your home. They looked forward to the moment you die as it meant they could live a new, prosperous life.

Their words only served to fuel the fire of resentment burning within you but you could do nothing.

You often wondered what your fate would be, knowing that the day of sacrifice loomed closer with each passing sunrise. The thought of being offered up to appease the deity, to maintain the facade of prosperity, filled you with a mix of fear and defiance.

—--

Night fell, casting a cloak of shadows over the altar as the ritual neared its zenith.

"Let us offer our gratitude to the Y/L/N family for their generous contribution!" The priest's voice boomed, the family members standing by, basking in the adulation of others, oblivious to their true nature.

Their affections lay with money and their son, not with you.

"Their daughter shall shape our destiny!" The air was heavy with incense and the eerie chants of the priests, their ominous words sending shivers down your spine.

You knelt at the heart of the altar, adorned in lavish garments but devoid of any semblance of joy. Seeing them pretending vaguely, a surge of resentment welled up in your heart. The unvented anger transformed into tears, cascading down your cheeks and saturating the eye mask, yet no one took notice. Memories of the past raced through your mind as the priest drew near; jealousy, anger, sadness, all negative emotions flooding your thoughts.

You felt yourself unraveling, the echoing laughter pushing you towards the brink of collapse. Desperate to block out the sound, you reached for your ears, only to find yourself restrained; yearning to break free, yet bound by invisible chains.

The priest's approach felt ominous, a foreboding presence signaling impending doom. You shook your head in denial, attempting to resist his advance, but the relentless footsteps shattered your resolve. You didn't want to die, there were still so many unfinished tasks; you didn't want them to prosper, to lead a life of luxury… What you craved was vengeance.

“Offer yourself to our God!”

“No! I refuse to meet my end like this!”

“There is no escape, child! Your destiny is to be a sacrifice! It is your duty!”

“NO! Even in death, I will not let you win! I will not make it easy for you!”

“What nonsense is this?!” “Just end her life!!”

With a swift motion, he thrust a sword towards your heart, invoking the deity's power.

But instead of searing pain and spilled blood, darkness enveloped you, wrapping you in an eerie silence.

Panting heavily, you realized you were not hurt. Unable to see anything as you were blindfolded, you could only follow the sound.

"Let me see this year's sacrifice," a voice echoed through the church, accompanied by the slow approach of footsteps, causing your heartbeat to speed up because of nervousness.

As the figure drew closer, Seonghwa knelt before you, lifting your chin to gaze upon your graceful form draped in black sheer fabric.

"It seems good, huh? But your resentment is the strongest among all the sacrifices I've seen," he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip and cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. Nervously, you swallowed saliva and made a barely audible sound.

“Don’t want to be mine? That’s nice, you know?” His gaze shifted from your trembling throat to your chest, where the metal bra accentuated your ample bosom. The sheer fabric did little to quell his burning desire. He leaned in and planted a kiss on your chest. This sudden act made you recoil slightly, unable to find a word.

“You hate me, huh?” Again, you swallowed nervously but did not dare to answer. Hate him? Maybe? Were it not for his presence, you would not have been chosen as a sacrifice. But, it was your so-called family members who did evil things. This was a simple question but you didn’t know how to answer it.

"Speak, girl. I hate it when others don’t answer my questions," he demanded in displeasure. Although you couldn’t see his face, you could still feel his anger.

"I… I apologize," you stuttered, fear gripping you and preventing you from relaxing. Seonghwa smirked, relishing in the feeling of others obeying his commands.

“So, what’s your answer?”

“I…hate…I hate them all.” He raised his eyebrows and said provocatively, “So, it's because of me that you hate them. Am I right, girl?”

“I…” You found yourself momentarily struck silent by fear. But upon reflection, you realized there was nothing left to fear - you were already deceased, after all.

“Yes.” After a deep breath, you found the courage to speak. “If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been chosen as a sacrifice, and I wouldn't be… disliked.” Your unexpected response caught him off guard, as he had never encountered someone who didn't desire his attention.

Determined to sway your opinion, he sought to engage you further.

“What is your name, my dear?” His tone softened, coaxing you to reveal yourself. Surprisingly, he did not react with anger.

“Y…Y/N…”

"Y/N, a beautiful name," His voice, deep and alluring, stirred something within you.

"Relax, Y/N. Why the tension? Tonight, we shall indulge in my desires. But fret not, for it promises to be an enjoyable experience.”

His touch traced a path from your face, down your neck, shoulders, and arms. The cool sensation sent shivers down your spine, igniting a tingling warmth that spread through your body, eliciting a soft, hesitant sigh from you.

“And I’ll change your mind."

His gaze fell upon the handcuffs on your wrists, your delicate wrists trembling slightly, arousing his perverse desire for dominance. He whispered in your ear, his voice extremely seductive, licking and gently biting your earlobe, teasingly grazing your ear.

"Umm…" A shiver ran down your spine as an electric current coursed through your ear, and your body temperature raised, causing your cheeks to redden.

"You're really sensitive, aren't you?" He licked the back of your ear, the sound of his tongue against your skin stimulating your nerves, making you tremble; his lips gradually moved downwards, pecking at your collarbone, sucking on your fine skin, leaving faint red marks.

“Did you touch yourself before?”

“What is touch…?” Smiling, he held your hand while trailing down to your lower core, and slowly got closer to your clit.

“It feels good.” He guided your hand, his slender fingers stroking your clit with a gentle touch, slowly sunk down to your lower core. As both of your fingers entered your cunt, a tingling sensation spread through your body, eliciting soft moans of pleasure. Seonghwa's satisfied smile encouraged you to explore further.

"Come, fuck with me," he whispered. You felt a mix of excitement and curiosity as you pleasured yourself under his guidance. The sensation of his touch, combined with your own exploration, sent waves of pleasure through you.

His hands enveloped your back, the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric, soothing your nerves. Your breath quickened, heart racing as he increased the intensity of his movements, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, drawing out soft whimpers of delight.

His velvety lips teased and tantalized your skin, his breath hot against your ear, igniting a fire within you. Your body instinctively responded, allowing him closer as his hands held you close, pulling you into his embrace.

A soft moan escaped your lips, spurring him on, his desire growing with each sound you made. Your body responded eagerly, the climax building within you, your walls tightening around your fingers, urging them deeper. It was so weird but exciting. You could tell there was something inside your body, as you touched it, a numb feeling surged throughout your body.

"You're doing so well, my dear," he praised, a blush rising to your cheeks at his words. “I’m gonna…oh gosh!” You shut your eyes tightly as the climax was about to take over you. “Cum, girl.”With a final, shy moan, you reached your peak, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before withdrawing. A pang of emptiness lingered, but his question brought a spark of anticipation to your eyes.

"More?" he asked, lifting your chin and drawing you closer. With a nod and a shy smile, you whispered, "Yes, I want more."

"Good. All I can think about is how good you're going to taste." Before the words even finished, he pounced on you, the cold touch of the ground sending shivers down your spine. He reached for the buttons on the back of your neck, undressing you from the waist up, leaving your chest fully exposed.

He buried his head between your breasts, continuously sucking and licking. You keenly felt his tongue swirling around your nipple, causing a tingling sensation. The wet and warm feeling enveloped your left breast, while his hand gently squeezed and massaged your right breast, occasionally flicking the nipple with his thumb.

"Ah…" The stimulation on your body made you shyly moan, igniting his desire even more. He lifted his head and kissed your collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave marks on the skin that were no longer pale red but slightly darkened purple.

He admired his love bites while appreciating your beauty. "You're so fucking gorgeous." He growled like a wild animal against your chest, now it's time to unleash the beast inside him.

"Put your hands on your head. You can't put them down without my permission, understand?" You obeyed his command and raised your hands.

He removed all his clothing, kneeling completely naked in front of you, and pressed against your outer lips, occasionally grazing your hole. His erect member has been uncomfortably constrained by his tight pants for far too long.

“It may hurt a little bit. But it's gonna be fun, don’t worry.” He entered your cunt in one go, making you throw your head against the ground. His huge cock was much different from his fingers and tongue─that’s harder, longer, and thicker.

The intense pain was almost unbearable, as if your lower core was being torn apart. Blood flowed, wetting his thick cock and even dripping onto the floor. Your body burned like a flame, sweating all over your body.

"You're bleeding, babe. Does it hurt?" His voice was soft as silk, gently tugging at your heartstrings in a way no one ever had before.

"Yes… it hurts," you managed to reply through the discomfort. "Don't cry, just try to relax." He leaned in to place a tender kiss on your forehead, his simple gesture of concern bringing tears to your eyes. Despite the pain in your lower body, it felt like nothing compared to the past beatings you had endured.

He kissed you gently, offering comfort without any aggression. There were no bites, no invasion of tongues, just sweet and tender kisses. Your lips met softly, filled with warmth and affection. The pain slowly faded, replaced by a growing desire. You wanted him to move, to pleasure you with his gentleness.

"Please, my god," you whispered between kisses, causing him to pause. "I think I'm okay now."

"Tell me what you want, darling. Just say it," he encouraged.

"I want you to move, please," you requested, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.

"Don't hate me now?" He chuckled at your reaction, finding you utterly adorable.

"Kidding," Before his lips met yours again and he began to thrust rhythmically. The pace was perfect, neither too rough nor too gentle.

"Ah, my god!" Every thrust hit the right spot inside you, eliciting a cascade of sensations. Your body responded by producing more moisture, adjusting to the feeling of his cock sliding in and out.

The warmth and wetness enveloped his cock, driving him to the edge of sanity. Combined with the sucking sensation, it was impossible for him to hold back.

"You're so tight, I can't handle fucking it." He wanted to fuck you as hard as possible, but not now. He needed you adjust first. He could see your past─what you have endured, how your so-called family treated you. Horrible memories invaded his mind, and although he wasn't frightened by them, he felt pity for you.

“oh my pretty.” He moved faster but not rough at all. His wet chest pressed against yours, letting you feel his strong muscles and physique. Oh shit, you loved this feeling so much, you felt so tiny under his frame. The pain you felt before has already disappeared far away and replaced by endless pleasure and lust.

Settling your legs around his waist, he entered deeper and you bent even more. He first pulled out a bit, and then pushed in fully, repeated over and over again. Every time he thrust deep, he couldn’t help but whimper as he saw how your chest shook from his movement.

“Moan for me, my doll.” You obeyed his words and moaned loudly, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, forming a beautiful melody in Seonghwa 's ears. He pulled you up, making you sit on his thighs. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he thrust upward that made you throw your head.

Following his movement, you bounced in a slow pace. He trailed down to cup your ass cheeks to pull you closer. Your lips met again as he leaned down to kiss you. This kiss was like the breeze blowing through the petals, full of tenderness, giving you a numbness.

Seonghwa placed you back to the ground gently before turning you over. "Want me to be rough?" "Be rough with me, my god." In the momentary withdrawal, he turned you over directly, and once again entered from behind. His hands pressed against your waist, controlling the movement of your body back and forth, causing your breasts to violently shake.

“Ahh, please, keep going.” “Of course, my little whore.” He cupped your breast while squeezing your nipples and showered your nape with kisses. The scent of you fills his nostrils, very tempting.

He gradually lost control and snapped into your ass with only raw emotion. Sat up straight again to push himself even closer to your limit. He could feel his cock twitch every time he went deep and you moaned loudly. He was going to cum but he wanted you cum first. He needed it, needed to feel your warmth once again wrapped up his cock.

“Baby, I want you cum, cum for my cock. I need you.” His words and thrusting made you dizzy. Everything was overwhelming. You totally lost in the pleasure as he kept sinking down to hit your g spot.

“Hmmmm…Ahhh…please.” There was one more step to reach your climax. Seonghwa knew it as he slid down his hand to your clit. He continued to thrust while stroking, pushing you to climax.

The stimulation all over your body was like an electric current, which not only sent shivers down your spine, but also made the flame of desire in your body bursted out.

You found that the more you press down on your waist, the deeper his cock could go. Desire had already replaced your thinking. You lowered your body as much as possible and spread your legs so that you could reach climax as his arching member deep inside you.

“Your pussy feels amazing, you do that so well. Cum for me, babe.” ”Ah~my god~” You squirted with a high-pitched groan and Seonghwa came after a few thrusts. Your legs were shaking like a leaf and knees went weak. You fell to the ground, out of breath, your body having been drained of all your strength by lust.

“Are you okay, babe?” Seonghwa gently turned you over and took off your blindfold. The sudden light hitting your eyes made you very uncomfortable, but you quickly adapted. A handsome face came into view, and you could finally see Seonghwa 's appearance.

“I’m fine, my god.” He brushed your hair, gave you a loving smile and slowly picked you up before withdrawing from you. His hand trailed down to caress your lower core, full of his seeds. “Not hurt at all, hm?” You shook your head and replied to him with a smile. He chuckled at your smile, pulling you closer to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re mine now. No one will hurt you.” Seonghwa patted your head and pecked on it, making your tears welled up your eyes. Oh, maybe he was truly a god that loved his people…no, or I should say, his sacrifice. Who tells him love having sex so much?

But there was one thing he couldn't lie about. He was a little heartbroken when he found out about your past. At the very beginning, he thought that was only an illusion but his feelings toward you gradually changed. You seemed to be different from those girls he met.

-----

“Darling?" He called you darling every time because he found you liked this name.

“Yes, hwa?" You turned around to give him a peck.

“I killed all the people you hated. Did I do well?” He wrapped his arms around your waist while inhaling your scent. Your eyes widened a bit as you never expected that he would slaughter the whole village.

"You killed them...?"

"Yes, darling. I can do anything you want because I am your God."

[zhongrin]

bound matriarch

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli

✼ tags ┈ yandere, fem!pronouns ('wife', 'matriarch', 'goddess' used), zhongli as morax/rex lapis, set right after archon war

✼ a/n ┈ i have to be out all day today so i'm not sure if i'll be at home when this goes out but let me just say FINALLY I CAN RELEASE THIS. THIS HAS BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG (i'd also like to silently thank jessamine bc their comments on my posts were the main catalyst for me to finish this little blurb sobsob)

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

oh, what a dream it is to be the spouse of the strongest archon in teyvat, whom he wed right after archon war ended. some might see the celebratory wedding as something uncouth; an utter disrespect to the lives lost at war and the bereaved families, but the lord of geo disagrees. what could be a better reassurance to ensure the people of liyue would start believing in and striving for a brighter future, than the joyous union of the new geo archon who defended them throughout the arduously long war and the prosperity goddess who has the power to bless the land and its people?

you're draped in gold and red as you sign the oath in blood; sealing your matrimony amidst the cheers of the mortals and immortals alike. the ruby reds on your lips are plush and soft against their god's own, the gossamer thread of embroidered gold of your clothing matching your now-husband's attire. even the bright blue sky seemed to celebrate such a joyous occasion, casting its warm rays upon the now-peaceful land of liyue to offer you its blessing.

they do not know that one certain party was most ardently unwilling to take the vow under one of the most sacred contracts of all.

they need not know that the marriage was a desperate attempt to shackle you to him and erase your individual worth as a goddess; to ensure you are remembered as rex lapis' beloved wife, the matriarch of liyue. they need not know, for just as no one questioned why the god of freedom was not invited into the banquet, no one questioned why a sheer veil covered the lower part of your unsmiling face, or the fact that countless shackles cor petrae accessories heavily rested against your neck and limbs.

what they do know is that this is your prison home ー he is your captor home and you will never belong anywhere else.

and perhaps given a few eons, you shall learn it too. worry not, your husband is a patient god. but you best remember that a god's patience, too, has its limits.

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[4pfsukuna]

No ordinary love

Debrief: Terry promises to come back in one piece and something about those pretty eyes has you believing everything he says.

Warning: fluff, angst, no weapon formed against me shall prosper but against this mans eyes? We never stood a chance.

Terry has always and i mean ALWAYS been persistant. If he had a goal he didnt care about obstacles; that didnt matter. He could sometimes be so one track minded and while you loved that about him its one of the reasons you and him couldn’t date.

“Still look as good as i remember” You hear and your keys fall from your hands with a loud clatter against the freshly painted porch. After a long day at the hospital being the head nurse may pay well but they make you work for your paycheck. And after your 9 ½ hour shift that was only suppose to be 3 just to help cover everyone’s lunch you were so over it.

“What you doing back in town?” You ask reaching down for your keys but he beats you to it taking the heavy grocery bags from your hands relieving your arms for a moment. He could be here today and gone tonight that’s how it was with him and your attachment issues just didn’t allow that, you needed a constant. Fuck the military and mcmap but you also couldn’t ask him to choose you or a career, so you chose for him.

“Damn no ‘welcome back, i missed you, good to see you it’s been so long’?” he jokes trying to look you in your eyes but you avoid eye contact at all cost. You would fold the minute you looked into those electric blue eyes and when he smiled at you instantly you were weak in the knees fuck standing up.

“Its been so long i guess i should enjoy this time i have before you up and leave” you snap before finally looking up at him and it’s his turn to look away. “If im lucky you’ll say something before you leave this time, hmm?”

And yeah he was fucked up for leaving with no good bye but this man was so unbelievably down bad for you that had you made the slightest indication of wanting him to stay he would’ve. You heald his heart in your hand with no regard or maybe you just didn’t know but to hold that much power over someone was insane.

You can’t lie thee Terry Richmond was a fine fine FINE man. God took his time with him if he took 7 days to create earth he took 8 to make Terry and watching him do all the manly things around your home never got old as he hummed along to you playing Sade.

“See something you like?” He ask looking over his shoulder at you as you take a sip of the moonshine from your cup pulling his attention.

“I love a good handyman… might have to get me one im trynna see what that be like” you throw shade sitting on the couch not expecting him to make his way over to you holding your chin in his palm as he directs your head up to him.

“You can get the idea of another man out your head, i got some loose ends im trying to take care of but it’s always gon be you mama… always has been.” He promises and its the one that he doesnt let anything get in his way but you didnt want him to break this. You look away before he squats down pulling your face to his again lips close enough to yours all he had to do was breath heavier and yall would be kissing.  

“So you finallygon’ let me take you out on a proper date?” He ask his lips brushing yours and you almost can’t even comprehend what he’s asking you feeling the heat buzzing so much between you two as it always did.

Your tongue grazes your bottom lip and he instantly follows it with his eyes before his thumb follows the trail. 

You and i, baby… This is no ordinary love you hear sades voice through the speaker and make the mistake of looking up into his eyes yeah he had you on lock and no key to be found as much as you wanted to stand up you couldn’t.

“Ill think about it” you murmur your lips brushing his before pulling away drinking the rest of your moon shine his eyes watching you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He needed to take care of those loose ends ASAP.

And when the morning comes he’s gone… as you expected. You didn’t expect a bouqet of roses and sunflowers on your living room table. You can’t help the smile, you want to be so mad at him but damn this wasn’t no grocery store bouqet this was some professional shit. 

Its another 4 days before you hear from Terry again, and in them 4 days you smiled on your way to work seeing the flowers although they would make you sad looking at them before bed. Just a reminder that all you had was an empty promise and empty bed never coming home to a man and really the only one that you knew was for you. Dating was pointless because none of them was him you didn’t even bother anymore yet he was probably out slanging dick left and right so before those thoughts can take over you submerge yourself deeper in the tub enjoying the lavender bubbles and cinnamon scent of the candles you lit.

Fuck, terry smelled like cinnamon.

“Oh so you do remember my number” You speak into the phone, sitting up a bit, voice raspy.

“I deserved that, how was work mama?” He ask and you instantly hear the frustration in his voice. He sounded tired, frustrated and like he wasn’t in the mood for shit yet he was calling you.

“You sound like your day was longer than mine” you admitted running your fingers through the bubbles and he chuckles.

“Yeah… just needed to hear your voice and I can get through anything. You like the flowers?” He ask and it sounds like he’s taping something a nervous tick you know he has. You don’t even let your mind wander into that territory just hoping it has nothing to do with his cousin mike who was always finding himself at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Yeah a lot… you being safe out there? Wherever you are?” You ask and he laughs this time.

“Yes baby, gotta make it back to you in one piece” and he never said that before, never even called you. He must be in something deep.

“You in trouble with the law?” You tease earning another laugh and the sound of taping gets louder. Leave it to him.

“And im not your baby, either” you add and that makes him laugh… a real one you can’t hide the smile on your face just glad he can’t see it.

“That’s why you smiling ain’t you?” He ask earning an eye roll as you sink back further into the bath. Its silent for a second, a comfortable one and you close your eyes.

“Just…” you trail off not knowing what kind of trouble he was in. “One piece” you reiterate.

“One piece” he promises easing your mind  before catching you off guard. “You miss me?”

And you hang up the phone.

The next time you see Terry again is when you’re up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. You’ve tried a bath, a shower, journaling, reading the Bible and even eating. Ok and maybe catfish, baked mac n cheese and cabbage wasn't exactly a late night snack  but it gives you a view of something rustling through the bushes outside and you're quick to grab the knife from the top of the fridge.

You don’t expect it to be a bloody Terry with two bullet holes one in his shoulder and one in his back not close to his spine but as a nurse youve seen enough  life changing accidents and you never wanted it to be terry so as you sit on the couch behind you cleaning his wounds you silently pray over him, for him to any God that will listen that this man lives and comes out on top.

“Baby?” He asks softly and absent mindedly you answer not even realizing he called you that; just that he called you. You were stuck in your own thoughts. you stay quiet for a moment until he looks over his shoulder seeing the emotions swirling in your eyes. Anger, sadness, worry maybe even regret.

“Baby girl i'd rather you just yell at me and tell me you hate me than silent treatment” he grinds his teeth turning back forward so you can finish. It feels nice being touched in a tender way he can’t remember the last time somebody did it's just been fighting for the past few days…weeks… months.

Years.

You don’t say anything at first you look for words to say until you think of the only thing you know that will get through his head.

“You promised… you promised me one piece” you feel your eyes start to water and hes quick to turn around quick to face you when he hears the tremble in your resolve.

“I am in one piece…” he tries watching the way your eyes start to water with tears and you stand up tossing the needle and thread onto the coffee table next to his empty plate.

“Are you fucking serious? This aint one piece! This is not a life” you finally yell at him before a tear falls yanking your hand from his grasp. “You and this disappearing act fucking sucks! I never know when you’re leaving or coming back if it’s for days or weeks and when you do come back you leave all these promises of being with me and settling down! When? When the next bullet goes through your spine and you’re paralyzed?” You snap harshly at him through tears you don’t even give him a second to talk or breathe.

“You never break a promise because you pussyfoot around what actually happened. Its like telling a lie— not telling the whole truth is still a lie. I don’t want no more of your promises or half truths.” And he opens his mouth to speak but you arent done yet now that he got you started he was going to listen to everything you had to say.

“ You don’t think I’m worth more than that? I deserve flowers…all the time. And dates not promises of one. I deserve a person i know i can rely on, someone i can come home to because THEY are home not the house. I deserve love and alot of it…all the love i give without expecting anything in return and you know what? Nah. I need that in return. And you can’t provide that so i gotta let you go cause it’s hurting me more to hold on” you cry but articulate so perfectly hes silent. It’s nothing he could say you read him like a book, tore his heart out like some flimsy pages and closed it shut like you closed your heart off to him.

Everything was falling apart, he didn’t think his day could get worse.  You had walked away and shut your light off making sure he heard you lock your door. Oh you were done done.

Leaning forward he drops his head in his hands you were the only thing keeping him at ease, the only thing keeping him going and without that he was fully ready to crash out. Ready to kill everybody in that crooked ass police station. Fuck peace, nah now he wanted problems. 

Terry was a man that didnt let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. You are what he wants and right now he was prepared to burn the whole state down if it meant getting you back in his arms, but this time officialy.

Yeah they fucked with the wrong one this time. 

Cleaning up everything, the first aid kit, dishes and alcohol he had to clean up his act to he throws on a fresh shirt looking at the flowers you still had on the table even though they were starting to wilt.

You wrap yourself up in the blankets angry at how stupid this whole stupid situation was. It was starting to feel like that episode of spongebob where he keeps asking squidward “are you finished those errands yet” like an ass there are no errands squidward just didnt want to work and why were you so heartbroken over a man who didnt want to put in the work for you.

“Bitch and they were roommates” your coworker gossips over lunch just some leftovers you had thrown together though before you can ask any follow up questions theres flashing police lights, sirens and yelling making the two of you stand up and rush into the hall. Gossip hour would have to wait.

A familiar blonde girl gets pushed past you on a stretcher covered in glass and blood even blue lips. You know her, an unfortunate upbringing but she cleaned up even got a job at the court house and was in school for law.

“Summer?” You ask walking with the stretcher listening as everybody yells commands to another.

“You must be the girl… t-the girl he’s in love with” she smiles clearly dazed out of her mind. “He did 100 miles an hour with no tires” she whispers before passing back out.

Nothing she was saying was making sense and not that you gathered much but what you did gather is that there’s someone else in a car with her. Someone else that needs help so running back to the main entrance all you see is several shelby springs cop cars and damage to the front doors.

“One day somebody is going to take down those fucking crooked cops” you shake your head thinking maybe summer was to dazed and just saying anything.

“Baby girl” you hear behind you turning to see Terry who looks like he’s also covered in glass, this time a bullet proof vest a bouqet of roses and sunflowers in one hand and a vhs tape player in the other.

“Terry wh—“ he stops you pushing the flowers in your hand pulling your face to his and finally kissing you. His lips are warm and he kisses you hungrily holding you as if youre going to run when he lets go.

“Hey man” a security officer speaks up unaware of the situation, stepping too close for either of your liking.

“Shut the fuck up” he fucking barks before pulling you back to his lips licking into your mouth not caring about professionalism, or restraint just you… it’s always been you. Leaning back into the kiss giving him the same amount of passion and intensity he’s pouring into it you feel him relax with a slight groan.

Pulling back from him needing to breathe he chases your lips making you giggle.

“Stop denying me” he gruffs out only for you to swat at his hands pulling at his shirt to see if he's hurt anywhere but he shakes his head.

“One piece baby, i promised” and that was enough for you. No new bullets, cuts scratches anything. He heard you, heard your rant and didn’t say anything words wasn’t enough he had to show you.

“I also promised you a date… hows tomorrow night?” He ask before shaking his head pulling 3 crumpled hundred dollar bills out his pocket and tucking it into the front of your scrubs.

“Nah call out tomorrow, im picking you up at 6” he tells you with a smile this time shocked you pull him down for a kiss.

“Yeah… i did miss you”

[leon4nyx]

Where My Affections Lie

CrownPrince!RE4R!Leon x AFAB!Maid!Reader

word count - 2.6k

tags - MDNI, not proofread, slight angst, p in v, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), fingering (f!receiving), soft dom/sub undertones, creampie, missionary, begging, aftercare, generally vanilla sex

the crown prince, Leon, grapples with his princely duty to marry the princess of the neighboring kingdom in order to secure a political alliance with both lands, even if his heart belongs to another− you.

Leon enters your quarters, shutting the door and sliding the lock in place behind him. He looks crestfallen and defeated, his dejected face worrying you. He takes your work-hardened hands in his smooth ones, pressing kisses and nuzzling his face into the warmth of your palm as he looks up at you with tear-glossed eyes. He sets aside the linens you were folding, recently picked from the clothesline first thing in the afternoon. Unlike your princely lover who could indulge in personal interests and other idle hobbies, nearly all your days in serving his family are spent busying yourself with chores and domestic duties; up until he had come inside to seek comfort in your presence, you were occupied with folding newly dried sheets before sending it upwards to their personal housekeepers.

“What’s the matter?” you gently ask him, cupping his teary face nearer to yours.

“The king and queen,” his voice nearly cracks. “My parents, they will marry me off to the princess of the neighbouring kingdom in a month. I am due to meet her at the end of this week and shall be gone for two nights.”

The breath never makes it past your lips, lodging itself in your throat to form an uncomfortable lump that accompanies the sunken feeling in your chest and the tears that begin to blur your vision.

“It is purely for the interest of politics, for the economic well-being of our kingdom,” Leon continues though he sounds far from pleased. “Father has cut ties with the trade of our previous ally, much to my contempt. No matter what I say and how much I beg, nothing will change their minds. A ship is on its way to deliver the message now.”

The king’s speak is the law and you know that there is no denying his wishes unless you wish to lose your head. If Leon, the crown prince, couldn’t get him to retract his statement, what more can a lowly maid do? You set aside the ache of your own heart, putting Leon’s emotions first in this gutting moment in both your lives.

“Leon, it’s all going to be fine. I’m sure she is rich and beautiful,” you point out with a feigned smile.

“That is nothing if I cannot have you,” he responds. “I care not for material riches when you are far more wealthy in the love you spoil me with. She is not you so I could care less about her. She will never be you.”

“The kingdom needs you, Leon. We are all relying on you for our prosperity,” you quietly say. “It’s best you follow the king, this is for the good of your people.”

Leon shakes his head, his blond fringe swaying along with the motion. He dips his head, eyes downcast to his bare ring finger.

“I don’t wish to stop loving you, my dove.” He confesses in a voice so broken.

“But you’ll hurt her,” you retort. “She is your wife, my future queen, and I am but an ignoble servant. She will bear your children so you must love her, as fiercely or more than you have loved me.”

He shakes and cries into the crook of your neck, saline tears leaving dark circles on the fabric of your garments as his arms hold you close to himself.

“It’ll be fine, Leon. I forgive you and I always will,” you whisper as you pat the soft hair at the back of his head. “It must be done.”

You had more words to say but it dies down at the base of your throat, the lump growing more uncomfortable as tears of your own descend as you both share your griefs in the tragedy of your circumstances.

After a delicate silence spent tearfully, Leon pulls back and stares into your eyes with fervour as if he is committing every blemish and groove of your face to memory.

“Fuck it,” he whipsers beneath his breath.

Light and careful hands cup your cheeks as if your face is made of glass, drawing your face near until your lips connect. The kiss is gentle and careful at first, no more than the tender smacking of lips and stifled noises accompanied by low smacks but the passion and desperation grows tenfold; his hands find themselves groping and grabbing, warm tongues coming to meet in the middle to engage in a passionate tango amidst hot puffs of breaths. Leon breaks away and plants damp kisses on the side of your lips, trailing it down your neck and making its way into your collarbones. His fingers fumble around behind you, fervidly undoing the laces of your clothing.

“Take these off,” he damn near growls. “Rip it, just rip it.”

You reach behind you to try and undo it swiftly but your lover has gone impatient, the sound of fabric ripping reaching your ears as your back is exposed to the air as he shoves the remainder of the torn clothing down, exposing your breasts.

“Leon!” You yelp in surprise.

“Need you,” he breathes in between clumsy pecks to your lips. “Need you now.”

He backs you into your bed, gently setting you down before climbing on top of your pinning you down with his enveloping weight. His kisses are bold and sloppy, desperate for more of you as teeth clack and grunts increase in volume. Your hands untangle themselves from his locks, gliding down the ripples of his muscled back and down to his trousers as you try to shove it down. Taking your hint, he rises up for a moment and undoes the button before shucking it down along with his underwear. His cock springs out, slapping into his abdomen right underneath his navel; his tip is flushed and glossy, covered in a thin layer of his arousal. Veins deliciously adorn the shaft like vines, the sight before you making you all the more hot and bothered. You sit up as Leon lies down, back resting against the headboard as you bend to eye-level with his erection.

“Please,” he begs. “Just…– ah, fuck.”

You interrupt his begging in the most heavenly way possible with your lips wrapped around his tip, gently giving cautious sucks before you take more of him into your mouth and start bobbing your head up and down. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth and glides down his girth, making Leon painfully harder if it was even possible.

“F-Faster,” he chokes out as his hips twitch. “Faster… yeah, jus’ like that.”

You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, a thin string of spit connecting you to his cock. You wrap your warm hands around him and form a tunnel, gliding it up and down his length at a pleasurable pace while you look at him through lidded eyes.

“F-Fuck,” he whimpers as his back bows from time to time. “Ah, ple–please, please. F-Fuck, faster!”

Shlicks resonate through the room, growing in speed as you pick up the pace with your hands. His face tightens and his balls flex, signaling that he’s right over the edge when you pull your hand away for a moment before replacing it with the wetness of your mouth again.

“Faster, faster–ngh–faster!” He chants in a whiny tone as his hands cup the back of your head as he urges you on. “Mine, y-you’re… hngh… mine! A-And I’m yours– all yours, p-please!”

He shoves your head down a little rougher, catching you off-guard as warm spurts of his cum shoots deep inside your mouth. Throaty whines and moans accompany his bliss, throat exposed as his head is thrown back in a white-hot ecstasy. He releases his hands from your head, letting you pull away as you take a breath. He’s still hard, angry cock pointing to the sky as it kicks in desire for more of you.

“Get on your back for me,” he pants in a low register. Sitting up, he crawls over you to lay down. “Let me return the favor, like a good lover does.”

You lift your hips up for him as he unbuttons your lower garments and slides it off of your legs before haphazardly tossing it to the floor as he focuses on his desire right between your legs. The sunlight filtering in through the window illuminates your soaked pussy, bathing it in a tantalizing glow.

“She’s crying for me and I haven’t even touched her yet,” he thickly chuckles to himself as he parts your soaked folds with his thumb, earning a weak mewl from you.

“Touch me, Leon. “ You admit in a hushed tone. “Please.”

“I’m going to need you to be a little louder for me, my queen,” he breathes against your inner thigh as he noses your sensitive clit.

“Leon,” you drawl. “Please! Please, just touch me.” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment at hearing yourself beg but you’re given no chance to bask in it before he dives in and plunges his tongue. “Leon!”

He positions your legs to rest against his shoulders, his arm encircled over your hips to gently rub soothing circles against your skin as he laps and licks like a mad hound. He looks up at you, the throb in his weeping cock aching even more powerful as your cries of his name reverbs throughout the room with no regard for who could hear.

“Good girl,” he purred as he plunged his right index into your eager hole and used his left thumb to stroke your pudgy clit. “Good fucking girl.”

“H-Harder,” you breathed as your velvety walls clamped around his finger. “L-Leon…”

“Gotta give my girl what she wants,” your lover breathes as he withdraws his finger to add another one and plunge it inside again. “You hear yourself, love? How she’s so needy for my cock?”

“Fuck!” You curse, writhing due to the overwhelming pleasure that runs through your body. “Ah! T-there, Leon– there, don’t s-stop!”

Your moans increase in volume and pitch, growing more feral and raw with the need to chase after that high as he relentlessly rubs that gummy spot you love.

“That’s it,” you hear him say. “Don’t be quiet, have to let everyone know who I love. Let the princess know, yeah?”

You feel empty again, only for his mouth to engulf your wet sex. Your mouth parted to make way for a primal groan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel that knot in your abdomen tense up for an incoming release.

“Louder baby,” Leon says with a smug smirk. “Let them know how good I treat you– ugh!”

He groans as his eyes shut as you tug on his face forcefully, shoving your pussy into his face as your body shakes with the shockwave of pleasure that crashed over you.

“Leon!” you breathe as you keep his head in place between your legs. “Leon!”

You chant his name over and over again like a prayer, screaming in pleasure as you feel his tongue kitten lick your clit. Your body relaxes, your fingers releasing its vice grip on his hair as your legs fall apart and free his head.

“Are you still with me?” Leon asks as he presses gentle kisses to your cheeks.

“Yes,” you pant as you direct his lips to yours. You hum with the taste of your slick, still not satisfied with being devoured alive alone. “Wan’ more, dove.”

“Good,” he darkly chuckles. “You want me now?”

You nod feverishly, coating his erection in your slick and his spit as you grind despite your overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he hisses as he lines himself up. “Tell me you want me, please, love. Tell me you want me so bad.”

Your hands gently push his hips down to yourself, easing his hot cockhead into you. “I… want you so bad, Leon. So fucking bad.”

“T-That’s it,” he encourages you as he pushes himself in slowly. Despite having made love with him more than twice, his cock still stretched you out like you’ve never taken him before. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He stills to let you adjust to being stuffed to the brim, occasionally huffing grunts when he feels your walls pulse and constrict around his sensitive cock. Once you give him the go-ahead to move, he moves his head to watch your face scrunch in pleasure as he begins to rock his cock in and out of your soaked pussy.

“I love your whines,” he chuckles. “Fuck, what a slut for me– only me. You’re mine,” he rasped.

“Yours!” You choke out as you drag your nails down his back, certain that it will leave red streaks that would certainly sting later on. “Yours, L-Leon!”

The grind of his recently-trimmed pelvis provided a delicious friction as he drove himself deeper into you, the bed creaking with each thrust.

“L-Love… you!” Leon keened, punctuating his words with harsh slaps. “So fucking much!”

Leon is temporarily taken aback by your hands moving to both sides of his sweat-soaked cheeks as you drew it nearer to yourself and captured his lips in a hungry exchange of passionate-fueled smacks as he delivered more thrusts of growing intensity. He felt his heart drop at the fact that he will need to consummate his marriage with the princess he will soon marry, a dark cloud coming back to trouble his mind, but the feeling of your teeth and tongue on his neck brought him back to the present so he pushed those negative feelings away for now, focusing on how snug your pussy envelopes his cock and how pretty the marks you’ve left on his neck and collar bones are. He does the same, moving your face to the side to paint your neck in reds, purples, and light indents of his teeth on the flesh.

“I’m g-going to cum,” Leon whines against your ear. “F-Fuck! This sweet pussy’s m-made just f’me.”

“Leon!” You exclaim as you cling onto him even more as if he’d be ripped away. “L-Leon, I-I’m going t’cum!”

He knocks the breath away from your lungs, back arched and chest pressed against him as your finger nails embed crescents into his shoulder blades. You weakly gush some more of your juices around his length, velvety pussy rippling around his cock.

With a throaty whine of your name, he holds you close against him as he delivers the last thrust before he shoots his warm spend inside you. He only puts a halt to his shallow thrusts when you tell him to stop as the pleasure is now bordering on discomfort. Ever the caring boyfriend he is, even in times of steaming passion, he looks after your wellbeing. He pushes hair away from your eyes, gently rubbing your cheeks as he adoringly whispers your name while he tends to you first.

“Does anything hurt?” He asks. “Did I cause you any pain?”

You laugh, tucking a long strand of sweat-dampened hair behind his ears. “No, my love. You made me feel happy today, like you always have. Stay with me for a little longer, Leon. I wish to rest with you,” you softly ask of him as you lift your covers to your chest.

“What about cleaning yourself up?” He asks.

“That can wait. I need you now,” you respond. “I meant it when I screamed that I needed you, Leon. I said it with my heart.”

His heart pinches in his chest, unfortunately brought back to the grim reality of his situation but that can wait so for now, he lifts the covers over both your bodies and stretches his arm to let you rest on it, stroking your hair until you fall asleep with no plans to leave despite what awaits him.

NOTE - hi guys!! i decided to try my hand at writing smut so if this isn't the best smut you've ever read, i'd like to apologize because this is my first time!! though it was certainly full of me giggling mid-writing coz i found my situation lowkey funny, i actually had fun but i don't think i'll be writing lots of smut :) i decided to post this to check out the flexibility of my writing skills so this is pretty experimental. i won't be super active in here because my main is @leonw4nter :) i also decided to start a ko-fi [still fixing some things up] in case anyone wants to drop a tip but please, please, please do not think that i'm forcing you to give me some money-- it's just there as a grander form of showing appreciation but likes and reblogs get me going already :) anyway, that's it and thank you for reading this <3 let me know what you guys think in the comments, i'd love to hear your thoughts <3

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp #43

(Here's my spin on the existing in another universe as a cartoon plot)

Danny stared at Clockwork with wide eyes as the ancient ghost told him the truth about the universe he had just visited.

He thought that it would've been another alternate universe that had a Dan that he needed to fight and stop from coming to his. But no. No, instead he landed into a universe of his favorite comic book series. DC Comics.

When he came through the portal, he instantly recognized the city that was known as Gotham and its dreary atmosphere that he's only seen in the various comics he kept on his bedroom shelf.

At first, he was excited. DC was real. That means that Batman and the Robins were real. Gasp. He could meet Martian Manhunter.

His fanboying was cut short when the sound of a grappling hook and light footsteps reached his ears caused him to look down and see who it was.

Batman. In the flesh, covered by his long cape and the darkness of the city around him. Honest to Ancients it was Batman! And Nightwing was there as well! Danny was going to die again!

Danny hesitated on approaching as he didn't know how they would react to him being in Gotham all of a sudden. Honestly, other than Deadman, Danny didn't know about anymore ghosts in DC.

What he didn't expect was for Nightwing-Nightwing!-to point to him and mention how he had a good Danny Phantom cosplay? Does that mean he was a hero in the DC world too and that he had fans? Awesome!

He didn't have time to question it as another portal opened and Danny was quick to take it, not wanting to be attacked by his favorite characters.

He definitely had to tell Clockwork about this.

-

"What do you mean I'm a cartoon in other universes?" The halfa asked the ancient of time, feeling as if his entire world was being flipped upside down for Ancient's know how many times already.

Clockwork gave the same smile that showed he knew something that he didn't. An expression that Danny knew all too well.

"Did you truly think that your universe was the only one out there, Daniel? There are

"But all you talk about are timelines

"There are many universes out there, Daniel. All of them have their own stories, their own people, and their own endings that they shall meet when the time is right. But, even then, other universes can exist in them as well. They are simply not physical."

Danny tilted his head at the last part, eye brows furrowing in confusion.

"Physical?" He repeated.

Clockwork nodded. His form shifting from his young looking self to that of his older version with the elongated beard.

"Physical, Daniel. Like how their universe, DC as you call it, your or a version of your universe exist in theirs as a cartoon. Many universes when clashed are too powerful for one universe to handle on their own if they were real, so they exist in forms of novels, shows, movies, even comic books, to allow their existence to prosper. They will be able to exist peacefully without causing any true harm to the universe and causing mass disasters that would happen if they existed on the same plane."

As he listened, his eyes widened in awe. Multiple universes that existed like that. That means there has to be a chance where there was a him that actually existed in the DC world other than being a cartoon.

While lost in thought, his eyes suddenly widened as a thought occurred to him. "Wait! If I'm a cartoon in their world that means that they just need to watch the show and find out all about me. My weaknesses, my past, the ghost zone, everything!" And boy, wasn't that a thought. He didn't want the Batfamily looking up his show and discovering how to beat him. Worse, how he died.

Clockwork simply raised a hand to stop his worrying tirade.

"Peace, Daniel. While your life may be a cartoon, it isn't all there. I've seen small glimpses, and it doesn't compare to your life. Various relationships, parts of your life, your powers, all of it could be underplayed or over exaggerated. While some could be true, they would still have to nitpick through it to find out the bits that are. Just like you would have to with those comic books to determine how much is real and fiction as well."

Hearing that, Danny did calm down some. Placing a hand on his chest with a sigh of relief.

"That is good then. i thought I was gonna die a second time."

The halfa floated closer to Clockwork as his old form turned back to his adult form, red eyes watching the young ghost as

"Though there's one more thing I gotta ask, Clockwork?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"How many seasons did my show get?"

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

THE POWER OF VENUS: SENSUAL AURA; HOW MUCH POWER DOES YOUR BEAUTY CONTAIN?

For Venus Day I wanted to do something special. My favorite girlies are the choices for this reading. Pick which one resonates with you the most, and take a look at each pile ! Have fun!

PILE 1 - AALIYAH - 'The Loveable Child, Aura As Magical As The Clouds.'

You're aura has a mystical charm. Deep inside the inner self is a magical energy that puts people in awe. Your gentleness captivates people and your ability to see the beauty in all that is around you is what makes you much more magical. Your sensual energy is capable of proving a point, being a star is your mission if you have this placement. Because your divine essence is what attracts others to you and others are willing to help you in your mission, desires, dreams, goals, etc.

Message: Be quiet. Not everyone needs to know your mind. Be yourself but be quiet about the things you know. Take it easy, not everyone can be as high in the clouds as you. Heaven's Child.

Numbers & Colors : 333, 555, 777, 111, Pink, Yellow, Green Lavender

Animals : Skunks & Deers (Bambi)

Themes : Loveable, Kind, Sweetness, Adorable

PILE 2 - SELENA - 'A Dream Come True'

Whew. This one is magnetic and its BIG. Big in a way that you can feel it however you're not sure what it is. Your sensual grace forms a lesion of people to honor you no matter how you look. Your charm is essential to awakening the divine feminine in you and others. You have gifts in singing if you've pick this one, as your singing qualities is like a bee being attracted to honey, its calming, tasteful and filled with valuable energy.

Message: You are captivating, never allow jealous or envious beings bring you back to a place that kept you in depression. Leave now. Don't allow them to sink this ship, God sent you to them to heal.

Numbers & Colors : Rainbow , Green, Blue, Orange,

Animals : Gazelles, Lions, Cheetahs, Hamsters & Guinea Pigs

Themes: Bravery, Resilience, Determination, Power

PILE 3 - SALMA HAYEK - 'Witch; Powerful and Formidable Aura'

A Goddess. It is she who walks the darkest roads that comes out on top and flows like no other. Your charm and power holds so much weight. People stop and stare at you from a far. In a daze, no man or woman can stop looking at your psychique and the power you hold can make anyone be hypnotized by your spark. You have a gift in setting the room on fire, holding up the magic in the room and making it fold to your bidding. Powerful qualities in sensual abilities and manifestation abilities are stronger with this group. You have the gift of getting your desires through the power of your charm and ability to be seen in your raw nakedness, take that as you will.

Your flow intimidates people, but your charm is what keeps them running back ;)

Message: Know when to be seen or be heard. Appreciate the joy in being a 'bitch'. Allowing others in just because you said so. Boundaries are not a kept secret, tell them off. Let them know it.

Numbers & Colors : Pink, Red, Magenta & Purple, 1111, 222, 333, 444, 555, 666, 111

Animals : Serpents & Octopus

Themes: Being who you are, Lilith, Oceans are connected to this group.

PILE 4 - BEYONCE - 'Look at me now'

This group is undergoing a big transformation! If not now it's on the way. No enemy shall prosper with this group. Now back to the reading, you guys have an immense power that is connected to a faerie like charm. Very pretty and magical. If you picked this group you may have a venusian energy that connects to a Goddess (this is for you to go within and seek). A high priestess energy from this group and a aura that is valuable no man and woman shouldn't dare come to you without a gift or even an honorable mention. Do what you will with that.

Message: Learn to appreciate the world as is, its just a minor reflection of whats inside of you. Speak highly to others as well as yourself. Be kind to you and to others and watch mountains open for you.

Numbers & Colors: Yellow & Pink, 3333, 444, 888, 1111

Themes: Goddess, Queenlike, Ochun, Pyramids, The world revolves around you, make it happen.

[st4rtar0t]

Money spell ✨💸💵🪙💰

Gods of wealth, hear my plea

To be prosperous and financially free

May abundance find its way to me

For ask and I shall receive

With harm to none and good to all

This is my wish so mote it be!

✨💸💵🪙💰🍀💳🪙💸💵💳💰💴💶💷💸🪙💸💰🍀

[slowd1ving]

EAT MY HEART, I'LL EAT YOURS ⁺ 　 . ✦ MOZE

Seek the answer ‘neath the tides,  Madness shall prosper, forget her wiles,  The moon grins once again tonight.  He hates you. He hates your plans, how you talk, how you work. He loathes being stuck with you: detests it to his very core. But that's great, because the feeling is mutual with you! Tied to an ill-omened crow of your own, what's there not to abhor? continuation of tales of a disgruntled corvid art by @ RMavio on x!! pairing: moze + male reader warnings: blood, death, violence, yall HATE each other bro, v slow burn, pre established relationship (if you don't count the relationship of HATING each other's GUTS) wc: 6.3k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Copper defiles the carefully manufactured oxygen that circulates this tiny starship. Its stench pervades the past the clean air, past the distinctly alkaline tang of bleach, and past what little protection your visor affords you. In fact, the clear nanocomputers pick up on a distinctly sanguine hue to the air: labelling tiny crimson specks as biological matter—human blood (tentative). 

“Adult Foxian male, died approximately forty hours ago,” the man crouched before you narrates, oblivious to the you who stares up at the ceiling of the small room—as if the gesture could possibly shield you from the horrifying reality at your feet. No matter how many times you’ve stepped into a situation like this (too many to count ever since your career path practically merged with the Shadow Guards’), you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. This is Moze’s sphere of knowledge: Moze’s work that intimately twines and dances with the very cesspit of vice and umbrage. 

“Died from presumably loss of blood caused by the deep lacerations across his abdomen and throat,” he continues—the details, unfortunately, seep into your brain as you try your best to tune him out. Thank you, Captain Obvious, you’d bite out, but unfortunately opening your mouth in these conditions would make you sick. “Or at least, that’s what the perpetrator would want us to think.”

There’s viscera splashed even on the very walls. Messy streaks of scarlet contaminate the aged wallpaper in the small room: capricious strokes, as though a child painted them, form characters and seemingly random lines of verse that register as unusual on your visor. That’s your area of expertise. 

Like clockwork, your gaze remains unwavering on the riddle presented on the structure. That’s how you’ve dealt with being in such proximity to Reapers: by pretending the wall is a block of stone and its red ink is precisely that—ink. That’s how you separate yourself from the victims of these gruesome cases; bit by bit, you’re slowly growing accustomed to the nauseating reek of metal that wafts before you. 

And so, when you finally glance down at the glazed-over eyes of the latest victim, it is with startling impassiveness that you assess his cadaver. He’s gone, you accept. Your little ritual has worked, as it oft does. 

“Same sigils as the other bodies.” You finally regain your voice, and the silver-haired man turns his sharp gaze up at you. “But the last line to the verse is different.”

Seek the answer ‘neath the tides, 

Madness shall prosper, forget her wiles, 

The moon grins once again tonight. 

The characters rest heavy on your tongue—foreign meanings straightening themselves out as you slowly sound out the snippet. It’s a verse from a children’s book of poems: a short tale about an obsolete, oceanic planet and its restoration by few brave souls. 

“The moon slumbered tonight,” you mutter the original line to yourself. This ancient script doesn’t suit the naïve phrases, but it’s commonly used for rituals—both antique and modern, you’ve unfortunately found. 

With a heavy sigh, you pull out the gun in your holster; it’s warm, humming to life which seems terribly ironic to you, considering where you are. You’ve not used the weapon for quite some time: the flickering it emits seems both familiar and unfamiliar. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His clipped speech warily assesses the ease with which you handle the arm you never seem to use: preferring the glassy, almost invisible blade currently strapped across your back when in combat. 

“Xiaoze,” you sigh tauntingly, infusing the firearm with quantum energy that briefly glows indigo in this dim room. “Shut up and let me do my job.”

“Ew,” his face sours almost immediately at the nickname, embittered by both how it drips with condescension and no real affection, and how off putting it is for you of all people to be adding things to his name. “Don’t do that.”

“Then shut up.” You line the sights experimentally, having successfully blackmailed the Shadow Guard into keeping mum for a few minutes while you turn the qualitative verse into quantitative data. Perhaps he does feel threatened by the promise, for you only feel his heavy stare on you and not his words. 

The bullet careens and phases through the wall where the verse is located, and with a shimmer of data, the strings of numbers behind the verse reveal themselves: meaningless to all but yourself. It’s a temporary display, containing important information about the very foundations of this riddle. Or, at least, it’s a shortcut since the verse has already been decoded. 

Seek the answer ‘neath the tides: a reference to where the power ‘current’ of Madam General Feixiao is absent. Or at least, these murder locations point to that; they’re in the areas least looked over in the Alliance: namely, not aboard the Flagship. 

Madness shall prosper, forget her wiles: a crude depiction of Moon Rage, as well as the shedding of a ‘Foxian’ identity. Considering all these victims have been Foxian, it’s no far-fetched assumption to think that these have all been building up to something sinister. 

The moon slumbered tonight: a reference to the plaguemark hung over the Yaoqing—a moon left behind by Yaoshi. Past tense. Sleeping.

But that had all changed with this particular murder. Whatever goal the perpetrator hoped to achieve was finally coming into fruition with the awakening of this ‘moon’. 

The data transmitted onto your visor is as elapsed: the time of writing, the exact coordinates relative to the Flagship at the time of writing, as well as some background noise of little relevance to this current predicament. These numbers are duly inputted into one of your pre-created ‘equation’ sheets: linking abstracts together in their own relationships to receive a divinatory variable. It’s one of the few successes you’ve had with qualitative equations; linking energy and mass and speed is easy, but linking feeling together is not. 

In this case, tying down the exact time and coordinates to a specific intention. Any organic creature or ingenium leaves behind a trace of intention, whether it be through actual thoughts or a pre-programmed function. But in this case, the result comes out void. 

Thirty-two hours since verse was written. 

“How long did you say the man has been dead?” you ask, urgently. Moze snaps back to attention at the specific tone in your voice. 

“Forty hours,” he answers. When it comes down to the bloody aspects of this job, he returns to his laconic, reticent ways—it’s truly a shame he can’t keep it up in other aspects. 

“You’re sure about that,” you probe, half a question in your voice.

“It’s my job,” he deadpans, and you scowl as he uses your words against you. 

“Well, this verse appeared about eight hours after the man died,” you comment wonderingly. The strokes of the characters for grins once again appear a bit messier than the rest—almost like a map. Well, it’s not a deduction; your visor picks up on the strange wording right before you do. “Unlike the others that were written manually by a perpetrator.”

“So, this sacrificial lamb was finally the success,” he mutters darkly. 

“But the trail is no longer dead.” You sheathe your pistol back into its holster with a touch of relief, because finally this set of murders is coming to its conclusion.

⁺ 　 . ✦

You take back whatever compliments you had of him focusing on his job when it came down to it. As you pilot the star skiff along the trail of data outputted from your visor and the crude map from the bloody drawings, he’s practically talking your ear off about the garbled string of answers you sent him from your visor. 

“And what is beef’s relevance to this case?” he asks, each syllable drawn taut with what could only be mockery. 

“Typo,” you grit out, tilting the control wheel starboard. Now is not the time. 

“Egg, too?” he taunts. 

Your eyes flick to the top left of your visor, where you did in fact merge the contents of your grocery list with the file meant for him. 

“Use your common sense,” you bite on the inside of your cheek, hard, to prevent any insults from slipping past your lips. “You do still have that, right?”

“So what’s for dinner tonight?” He leans back against the co-pilot seat, and you can feel his gaze prick your face—much like you feel the tiny, irritating smile he wears. 

“I will crash this skiff if I have to, and you’ll have to explain to the General why the cryptologist exploded into itty-bitty pieces, Xiaoze,” you seethe. 

“Not if they don’t find your body,” he returns—far too accustomed to the patronising name for someone who blanched at its usage just an hour prior. Worst part is, he’d definitely make do on this vaguely-worded threat. 

“Madame General and A-hua would know it was you.” You propel the stern forward, if only to feel his hands grip the sides of his seat tighter. He courts death daily as an assassin, but wouldn’t it be a treat to die because of reckless driving. It’s not like you can entrust the programmed visor to him (and it’s not like you want to send the decoded map to the skiff). 

“Would they, though?” He pares away the dirt beneath his nails with his knife, and you hope the sudden jolt in the vehicle gave him an injury. 

“Jump.” A single syllable, gracing the space with your tender command. His brow raises minutely. 

“No one will miss you,” you add. 

“Since you’ve got no friends,” you tack on with an air of finality. 

⁺ 　 . ✦

He hates you. He hates you: hates the way your hands deftly turn the control wheel on the skiff; hates the way you trip and stumble through life, leaving countless messes behind yet still managing to have Feixiao’s approval to work with him; hates your facetious and conniving and sly insults. But most of all, he really fucking hates your plans. 

“This is so stupid,” he mutters in your ear; invisible to all but the tell tale outline on your shrunken visor. You’d reply, but you’re already conspicuous enough in the tailored suit you’ve donned—all sharp lines and a cut too bittersweet for your home planet. So actually, fuck that, then—there’s no point in being all Spy-like and Inconspicuous any longer. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, adjusting the cufflinks beneath the rich jacket—then subconsciously running a thumb along the edge of your fake identification card that’s pinned to your collar. Unlike that weirdo, you can’t turn invisible—so you’re left firing quanta bullets at the hull of this rig right outside Yaoqing airspace (or technically, space-space) and gleaning whatever information you can to assemble a persona for yourself. 

 <Doctor, Who is slightly Strange> how do I look < 1:34

The message pings to him from your visor, and you know he’s seen it—from the caustic sigh that leaves his lips, because if he ever blows his cover while he’s invisible, it will have been because of you.

< Weirdo > 1:34 > Focus on the damned mission.

Lukewarm, you scoff, brain sounding out your response. How… do… I… look, you type out once more.

1:35 > Terrible. 

Aggravated, you clench your fist, and you swear you can hear the space behind you warp and distort when he snickers. Terrible! What a joke, you seethe—jabbing the code into the airlock that you’d worked out by the little tones left on the verse, as well as reading the intentions left by people at this door. 

Your job is simple—getting to the bottom of these long-standing murders while also planting a bug on the ship that would allow the Seat of Divine Foresight of the Yaoqing to monitor the situation. Nothing more, but maybe something less if something went wrong. This was only a two-man operation, after all. 

Of course, you neither kept optimistic nor pessimistic. Though there were only two objectives,  those that underestimated the simplest missions oft suffered the brutal brunt of defeat. And of course, the former term being negotiable showed just how difficult it was. Or at least, if you managed to find the office of the higher ups, the data you stole would allow you to reconstruct the space virtually—though what you needed were concrete files that pointed to clear motives. 

No—not the office. 

You squinted as a rough plan of the building popped up from the continuous data you fed your visor—a general prediction of where the lab and computer room would be located, which were simulated as being in the same wing as the office. Perfect. 

<Weirdo> 1:40 > Done all your shopping already, or are you just tired of steak?

You grind your molars as you travel past the small throngs of borisin and humans alike: you don’t look entirely out of place as they’re dressed in a medley of different outfits, from IPC uniform replicas to Penacony garb to even the long robes found on Herta’s Space Station. Point is—your Earthwear doesn’t stand out, and there’s enough people that your badge does not go noticed. 

<Doctor, Who is slightly Strange> gonna shoot you how about that < 1:40

It takes the time of twenty-seven heartbeats to stride through the corridors (tunnels) that make their way around the aircraft. Twenty-seven heartbeats, three checkpoints and one smile shot at presumably a ‘coworker’—before you finally make it into the final stretch. He knows, though you don’t, because he’s counted: listening to the rhythmic beat of your organs as you calmly navigate the ship like you know what you’re doing. 

It’s devoid of souls, except for the two of you as you pad down the corridor. Even the very lab and big office seem abandoned—but Moze’s urgent text alerts you of the presence of someone in the office, just not the lab. 

Guess we’ll start there then. 

A quick swipe of your falsified keycard, and you were in—slipping on one of the freely available lab coats and extending your visor to cover your eyes at the entrance. You do respect lab etiquette, after all; erasing even your thoughts about food and drink as you press through the automatic glass doors. 

<Weirdo> 1:43 > You almost look like a scientist now.

You can hear his exhales—they’re so obviously deliberate, because no way would he blow his cover by accident. He’s snickering, that sod is. 

I am a scientific doctor, you senile fuckwad. < 1:44 

1:45 > Thought your default display name was just a joke. Did you hit your head and hallucinate some credentials?

You seethe, since you can’t exactly scroll through endless files to locate your dissertation on ancient science and qualitative formulae. Over sixty-thousand words, reduced to mere mockery by this cretin. 

It’s a triple entendre < 1:45 And I’ve got the creds < 1:45 prick < 1:45 

1:45 > moron

He types this lightning quick, not even pausing to stop walking—not even pausing to capitalise and punctuate his stupidly mocking text like normal—and you can still hear him because he’s letting you hear his normally silent steps, he’s letting you know he can fulfil the mission while shit talking you to your own face.

this is why you have no friends < 1:46

1:47 > this is why you don’t have friends outside your job. no one actually likes you

You rummage around in the large filing cabinet besides all the gleaming equipment: large centrifuges, safety cupboards, fume hoods, and weird display cases filled with samples of what can only be blood. Swiftly, you snap several photos of the evidence with your visor, then mindlessly write a response. Talk about a call coming from inside the house, you think. 

name two people who voluntarily spend time with you < 1:49 [<Doctor, Who is slightly Strange> sent index.finger.pointing emoji] < 1:49 [<Doctor, Who is slightly Strange> sent laughing.crying emoji] < 1:49

He’s no longer in the peripheries of your earshot; so you know he’s gone off to investigate the other areas of the small lab—beyond the equipment and into the computer room. Good, you exhale—at least he respects lab protocol. 

1:51 > name a time feixiao actually talked to you outside of work

I will…. lend you… my gun so… you can shoot…. yourself, you type, then quickly hit backspace before you can send it by accident. 

yesterday. eat shit xiaoze < 1:52

1:52 > that was charity work don’t flatter yourself

Hastily, you scan any files in the weird stronghold that look even remotely related to borisin and Foxians and especially the one you cradle: labelled only with the icon of a moon and containing eerily similar rituals to the crime scenes you found. 

oh you want to talk about charity work? lets ask the crowd bro < 1:55 everyone who interacts with you is doing charity work.. < 1:56

1:57 > ok at least my job wanted me

Wow. Wooow. You stare incredulously at the message—he’s dragging the Intelligenstia Guild into this, knowing you got put on leave for ‘engaging in querulous behaviour’ and ‘lacking in real life experience’. Low blow. 

…and no one else did so what now < 1:58 name a single friend you have < 1:58

1:58 > .. 1:59 > Jiaoqiu 

Jiaoqiu. How cute, you scoff, resuming your hate typing while you flick through the last few files hidden around in drawers and cupboards. 

idk how to tell you this but you are NOT the friend bro you’re the test subject… < 2:00 I think he pitied you or smth.. < 2:01

2:02 > ew 2:02 > don’t call me bro it’s sickening 2:02 > we are not alike

it’s exposure therapy < 2:03 since you don’t have any friends you don’t and probably never will be called anything endearing < 2:04 aren’t I so nice < 2:04

Pausing, you glance up at where the glass doors lead right to the computer lab; a dim glow washes over the space. Nothing much to worry about, you think—copying data is a far less burdensome task than rifling through pages upon pages of reports and then arranging them back into their rightful place. Though, if you were worried about anything, it was that the virus and bugger installation would take longer than they had to. 

Maybe it’s the paranoia getting to you. 

Or maybe, maybe, it’s the faint click of footsteps against linoleum floors—getting louder and louder and louder. As does your heartbeat: thundering deafeningly in your ears. You can’t turn invisible. You don’t get the luxury of slipping into the shadows like your colleague (to put it very politely) does. 

And so you swallow—tongue thick and leaden within your suddenly too-dry mouth. There are two courses of action you can take (hurry, the steps are getting louder): the first being to hide away in the little storage cupboard and take the escape from there. You will not be able to fool a scientist who knows their colleagues far more intimately than the grunts in the lobby. Moze has worked alone before. He’ll figure out how to get the virus downloaded and the data copied before the person even gets close to noticing him. 

Or—and your eyes flick to the computer room clearly visible from the lab—you could put on an act to save both your life and Moze’s time. You could… probably do that, right?

Heart moving renditions…. Never mind that your heart was pounding right out of your chest—never mind that your glassy sword could not be wielded in this narrow hallway, never mind that flipping the switch on your gun was not quite something you were prepared to do. 

They were almost at the corner, and you made your decision to step out into that narrow corridor. One hand in your pocket and the other raking across your face as you yawned. The epitome of casual. 

And Moze’s ears pricked as he watched you; though you’d never know, and he’d never admit that he did so. He heard the sound of sharp shoes, and was honestly expecting you to turn tail. 

But you didn’t. 

You’re taking lazy strides as he hears the researcher approach—counting on the secrecy of this organisation being tight enough to operate on a need-to-know basis. In other words, you’re operating on the high-risk gamble: that this particular person would be unaware of changes in personnel. There’s no time to read the data streaming from their steps. Ordinarily, from their intention you could figure out their rank in the pecking order—but you are plumb out of luck. 

He rounds the corner: wearing a suit far more well cut than yours, though his tie sits loose at his throat and his jacket is slung over one shoulder. From one glance, you can tell immediately. You’re screwed. Still, it’s too late to run now: far too late to leave Moze to figure out how to download the data faster. 

“Who are you?” The drawl is heavy with a cadence far too confident. Just your fucking luck, you momentarily scowl—of course the lab would be frequented by some clear higher-up. Not a regular degular scientist you could simply sweet talk, but someone not in the lower strata of this shady organisation.  

He’s handsome: black hair that sheens prussic, eyes glinting practically amber even in the frigid lighting that washes over this space. Something you’ve unfortunately learned while traversing the galaxy is that this guy cannot possibly be a grunt; and if he is, there’s something seriously wrong with the corporation. He’s eye candy—which makes this situation so terrible. You are screwed. In that moment, your lazy smile wavers somewhat; you are utterly and irredeemably fucked. You could shoot him, but that would no doubt put the rig on immediate lockdown with the sound of the gun. 

Fuck. You want to slam your head against the glass, but that would no doubt screw you over even further. 

You’re not built for this. 

“Oh, are you part of the research team too?” Naive. Your qualifications have just landed you this position, and you’re not quite capable of discerning if you should be divulging that information or not. That’s the mindset you centre this particular character around: just some random guy who’s a bit gullible. 

“Just got transferred,” you lie through your teeth, shamelessly. It’s a sin to lie, but you’ve committed bigger ones before. 

“No wonder I’ve never seen a cutie like you here before,” he murmurs—leaning in as though to inspect your face. And so, you freeze; naturally, this was not the direction you thought this conversation would take. Maybe sweet talking is not entirely off the table, but you sincerely doubt you’ll actually get away. 

You swallow. How much longer do you have to stall for? Is Moze done? What the fuck do you say next?

“Uh.” Thanks? I guess? You’re pretty cute too? You find your hand inching towards your holster—minutely, of course—while potential replies whirl through your mind chaotically. Miniature storms wrapped up in slimy brain matter and miniscule neuron connections. 

It’s only when he lets out a short laugh that you realise that you might’ve let out your thoughts, and you curse at yourself in your mind. 

“Wow, you’re bold,” he comments, closer: until you can almost taste the lingering iron and manufactured scent he has. Like wood. Earth pine. A bitter pang goes through your heart at that: someone from the surviving fallout of Earth, here of all places. In a clean, sterile lab dedicated to sacrificing Foxians—for what? Money? Stupid credits? Humans are rotten creatures, cut from a cloth macerated in cesspits. On Earth, it was no exception. 

Still. Your lips press into a line at his clothes, the particular way the tie is knotted. You’ve never seen another survivor prior to this. 

You may also be completely mistaken. Penacony and doubtless others have the same strands of fashion—but this. This is wholly Earth. 

“People do tell me that,” you return, unbuttoning your lab coat since you’re no longer in the lab boundaries. Moze, hurry the fuck up. You’re already regretting it, but you need to confirm it. Alien everywhere, what other choice do you have?

His eyes don’t widen like you expect, and you feel a stupid ache at the realisation that you’re once again alone. But rather, they flicker to your breast pocket, where your falsified keycard peeks out. Closer. His fingers pluck the plastic as though it were a flower, and you’re much too astounded to stop him. 

“What a shame…” he murmurs, and only the nails digging into your palm remind you fitfully of just how near he is—practically tasting the fucking lies on your breath. 

“Sir, back up a bit,” you grimace. This sucks. The perks of keeping the guy from witnessing the glow in the computer room is slowly fading away the longer you keep this up. Should’ve left Moze to get caught. 

“O strange doctor, do movies of the bygone era really interest you so?” 

You freeze. Shit. Shit. You’d let down your guard—attempting to gauge his reaction to your attire and getting caught out yourself. Really, was there any spy worse than yourself? The falsified card was hastily put together with the help of your visor; of course it autofilled that stupid alias. 

It’s not the first time your mistakes have cost you. 

“You…” This guy. You should’ve run. You suck at gambling. 

“How odd. I should’ve been aware of one like me being transferred.”

“Who the hell are you?” Cautiously, you take a minute step back. He notices—of course he does. 

“The head of the research department, who else?”  Fuck, fuck. Your heart is entering arrhythmia: pounding flush against your eardrums like some goddamn hammer against piercing nail. You’re dead meat. 

“It’s unfortunate that I can’t buy you a suit to replace that cheap one—if you hadn’t infiltrated, we might’ve been good friends.” He’s still putting up a front, but you can tell he’s close to a fight. It’s the snarling instinct of a cornered human—fight or flight activating almost immediately at every minute movement of his. Each shallowed breath, each minute shift in sinew. All of it. 

“No, definitely not,” you retort in disgust. “Most people from that planet sucked.”

It’s true, but your heart twinges blue just the same. Millions of years, all for that stupid molten iron planet to just cease. None but you—all alone amongst the cold, dead stars. 

It was a graveyard of the giants: hulking Jupiter, so wretched and broken; stars slowly winking out one by one. Even the massive silhouette of the Sun had finally been conquered. Had the universe ever been so lonely for the wandering?

“Even you?” And now his fists punctuate the empty space with his words. 

“Especially me.”

How foolish. How foolish, as he’s barely breathing on the floor beside you. How foolish, as you let your teeth grind in stupefied frustration. How foolish, that you wanted to communicate with a remnant from that obsolete planet. 

You’re an idiot as you clutch at your side: warmth seeping between your fingers as you prop yourself up against the wall. Shallow, heaving breaths come ragged—though the fight didn’t last even five minutes, courtesy of your visor working overtime to electrocute that fool by your feet. He looks fried, but you don’t look much better: being stabbed does that, after all. 

You don’t know what you’re doing here. 

What were you trying to accomplish?

Iron tastes especially caustic today. Ah, you realise with a start—this stupid endeavour was all to buy time. Maybe it was all pointless. Maybe you’ll slip into slumber here—tripping over the sleeping man at your feet and seeing your planet once more, if only in your dreams. 

The flicker of lights reminds you of your wretched childhood apartment. All concrete and dilapidated structure, but it was your home. A cruel and cold home—though it was also one where the sun touched the horizon just so, in a way that erased pain for a singular moment in time. 

Stupid. All this to fulfil your stupid mission. 

Your legs wobble, and you would’ve slammed right into the wall were it not for the cold arms wrapping around your ribcage—gelid hand splayed on your chest. 

“Idiot.” Moze’s voice is low and angry; practically shaking while he supports your body. He’s pressed right up against your side—making the smell of blood ever more pungent. Slippery, metallic copper—all coming from you and ruining that stupid suit for good. “Are you illiterate too?”

“Huh?” You don’t know why he’s upset; he got the job done, didn’t he? Maybe he’s mad he has to prop you up while navigating the dim tunnels of this building—his teeth are gritting, after all, even if you can’t see him. You can hear the molars grind together. 

“Are your eyes just for show, or do you occasionally read your messages?” he seethes. Your trembling heart is far too loud to register the final death rattles of the man left behind in the corridor—courtesy of a blade thrown right into his jugular. 

“Hah. Muted them to not read your irritating texts anymore.” You close your eyes as he guides you past the chemicals, past the cleaning supplies in the closet that leads to a hidden path outwards. He’s more… gentle than you would’ve expected; grip firm on your arm slung over his shoulders rather than constricting. 

“I didn’t need your help,” he informs you: tone boreal as ever. “You blew our cover.”

Still, you cannot see the furrow in his brows as he peers down at you; neither can you see his lips pressing together. His heart’s pounding weirdly: focused on you rather than leaving this stupid place far behind. 

“I didn’t do it for you—” you grit out, stumbling the last few steps to the concealed star skiff while alarms blare on the ship the two of you leave behind. And he’s grasping your waist as you lean against the rocking vehicle—but you were not going to fall. Blood seeps onto his clothing, though he pays the mess no heed for once. 

“Don’t need your help either,” you scoff, returning his words back to him as you lean against the worn seat. It’s cold. So cold, but you’d rather die than admit it hurts. “Get off me.”

“I’ll drive.” His rich voice finally has a body once more as he settles into his copilot seat. He can visualise the path back to the Yaoqing already—back to the messy, warm place you call home. Where you linger on all those stupid trinkets, the decorations you put up, and the food simmering in the pot on your stove—he knows the route like the back of his scarred hand. 

“I’m fine. It’s not that deep, and Jiaoqiu will take a look at it anyway.”  Jiaoqiu. His lips curl into a sneer as the dashboard lights up—flipping switches with such harsh precision it’s much too apparent that he’s in a terrible mood. 

“Or A-hua,” you add, and his heartbeat becomes something twisted and wretched as he hears the dimmed affection in your voice. You’re tying off the bandage tight around your side—very rudimentary first aid, but the priority is to get as far away as possible from this facility while their systems go down.

“Neither of them will be in when we report to Feixiao.” 

He doesn’t quite know why he lies: syllables rolling off his tongue like a blunder, yet he manages to keep his voice steady. 

“Then I’ll give myself stitches.” So damn stubborn, he thinks. He’s irritated, for reasons unclear to him. 

“No, this was because of me. I’ll treat you.” He doesn’t know why he insists either; one thing he knows for sure though, is that he can’t help but cling onto the scent of your embodiment. Blood and sweat, laundry powder and soap. You. It’s nothing like the damp of his cell. 

“No thanks. You’d probably—hah—use this opportunity to get rid of me,” you wince out. Well, he cants his head in thought—you’re not wrong. He might’ve left you behind: no regrets, no more dead weight. 

“You think so little of me?” 

“Yes. Why else would you come close?” On edge—that’s what he can hear in the tremulous pulse beneath the flesh, all torn and never at ease. It’s not fearful, precisely, but gone is the casual annoyance in your tone—it’s more of a void acceptance, as though you’re stating the obvious. 

To answer your question, he doesn’t know. He’d normally recoil at the sight of the dried blood on his clothes—scrubbing at his skin the moment he could—but he’s absent-mindedly pulling at the threads laved in you with a hand not preoccupied by steering. 

“Anyways. If you keep pushing it, you’ll be permanently dubbed that nickname you so hate.” 

“Don’t care.” He meets your eyes through the reflection of the glass window. One gaze—flinty and stubborn. The other pair of eyes—silent and unyielding. “I’m treating you before we report to Feixiao.”

“Little A-ze is all grown up now, huh,” you mutter, and the prefix you put in front of his name is cold and distant. It tastes quite bitter, and for that reason he doesn’t deign to speak for the rest of the flight. 

For once, he’s truly living up to his description of being reticent. 

⁺ 　 . ✦

“Why’d you do such a stupid move?” With each agonised beat of your heart, the needle jabs into one side of your flesh and extends past the other. This may have been taken as to mean he’s fast with your treatment—but your pulse is as sluggish as barely molten lava, burbling and gurgling like you’re on your last legs. “Look after yourself first.”

The towel he painstakingly placed on your couch is spattered with sanguine. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too lost in delirium to realise the gravity of this situation: Moze, kneeling by your side as he carefully stitches you back up. So delirious, you don’t notice his heavy gaze and scarred hands that reverently handle the tools that pierce your body. 

“A-ze,” you slur, half-conscious as you bring a scalding hand to press against his boreal face. He freezes, like he really is made of ice. But alas, your hand falls back to your side just as quickly and his expression settles back into a scowl. 

“I could’ve escaped,” you murmur, eyes heavy with slumber. “But then you would’ve been in trouble.”

I wouldn’t have been, he wants to say back. You and your idiotic plans. He’s thought it before and thinks it now—he really fucking hates them. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” he instead grits out, tying off the last stitch with the scissors with a clinical professionality that you’re quite astounded then. “Look after yourself, and I’ll do the same.”

“Shut up and get out then,” you retort—and he plucks the roll of bandages you were planning on winding around your side. You blink: taken aback once more. 

“No.” 

No? 

“Fuckface,” you comment bitterly, though there’s a certain decrease in volume as he winds his arms slowly around your torso to wrap the cloth around you. Like this, his silver tufts of hair brush past your chin—strangely clean smelling for an assassin. And when you rest your palms on his upper back to alleviate the tension in your side, you swear he freezes. 

“Idiot,” he slams back; though, there’s a certain rapidity to his pulse as your chest is right in his eyeline. It’s steady, rising and falling with each even breath you have: naked muscle just about grazing his nose. For the first time in ages, his fingers waver in his task. 

“Call Jiaoqiu then,” you shrug. He’s tucking the ends of the bandage into itself, so you miss how the faint flush on his face immediately fades. 

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. 

“Call who over?”

The foxian stands in the doorway with a pleased, close-eyed smile—much like the cat that finally got the cream. He’s grinning, Moze realises with horror; he saw the vulnerability in his shoulders, even if for a brief second.

Shit. He didn’t even notice. 

“Jiaoqiu?” You take your hand off his shoulder to wave; the man can no longer suppress the irritation in his expression. 

“In the flesh!” 

“Wow, you really don’t look good,” he continues, voice drawing closer as he inspects your bloodied torso. 

“Yeah, because I’m stuck with the fucker who lied about you not being—”

Moze presses his palm against your mouth—heart erratic at the feeling of soft lips against his hand, though it has nothing to do with you. More of the fact that he’s never been so close to someone like this. Yeah. That’s the reason. 

“Why are you here, Jiaoqiu?” he replies in your stead, ignoring how incredulously your gaze pierces into the side of his face. 

“So cold! You two are late to report even though you arrived half a system hour ago! But I totally understand, Moze.” Jiaoqiu’s smile does not quite reach his eyes as his gaze flitters between you and the assassin. That, perhaps, would be the usual description of how the foxian smiles regardless, but especially so today. “He’s injured, after all. Why not let me treat him before the two of you report to our Arbiter-General?”

“Pah–!” With a gasp, you finally wrench his hand from your mouth—glaring at him all the while. “That would be great, Jiaoqiu, thank you.”

Thus, the assassin is left simmering on the other side of your living room: daggers jabbing right into the other man’s back as he finishes your treatment off with a bowl of scorching hot broth. And though he doesn’t outright say it, Jiaoqiu is evidently amused by this turn of events—much like he’s amused with every irritated tell of Moze’s as he inches ever closer to you with his sly smile. 

Sorry, friend, he surmises. Not much of a chance you’ve got. 

It’s a great day for the fox, but not so much for the crow who seethes in the corner. 

⁺ 　 . ✦

[absurdthirst]

The Cost of Survival {Ezra x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.8k

Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, mentions of birth control, oppressive regimes, drinking, adultery, technically prostitution, angsts, heartbreak, loss of limbs, near death, pregnancy

Comments: Growing up on a poor mining planet where the company owns your very existence, Ezra dreams of getting you and him away from it all. Escaping. Resorting to doing the unthinkable to manage it and breaking your heart, there's a high price to be paid.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Ezra (Prospect) MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You lean against the wall, the band playing across the room with instruments passed down through the generations. Your dress is also hand-me-down, shabby, and patched, but it suits you, especially when no one else is dressed much nicer. Your planet is best known for its mines. It provides power to other planets - more prosperous planets - and is well known for the people who occupy the dusty, gritty mountains. Only one mining company owns all the land...and the people. The workers whose fathers and their fathers and their fathers worked the mines. No one escapes the planet. No one makes it rich enough to leave. Especially when the company owns the houses and the stores. Every credit made by the workers goes back into the company's pocket. Your father works the mines, back aching daily as he fights his aging bones to provide for his family. You want more than this gritty existence; you want to escape, to do the impossible. There's some education for women, mainly nursing, to assist the doctors with the gruesome wounds men would receive from the deadly mines. You lean against the wall, watching several couples dancing, and you sigh, not seeing him watching you from across the room. Ezra. You've known him since you were in school together. Most men left school early to enter the mines, but he stayed a little longer, wanting to learn more about literature, and you admired his reluctance to tow the company line. He was rebellious, and you secretly loved that.

You are a sight for grimy, dust-filled eyes. Ezra’s own outfit is barely much better than your own. An old suit that his father had been married in. The only reason he hadn’t been buried in it was that his tomb was a sealed-off section of the mine after an unfortunate blowout. You look bored and he smirks slightly, thinking that you are like an unappreciated flower, overlooked and forgotten. Not by him. He would never forget a beauty so fair that it steals his breath away. The only reason he had come tonight was to get a glimpse of you and perhaps try to convince you to take a turn on the floor with him.

You sip your drink, some kind of off-brand juice that one of the more prosperous planets had turned down, and you set the empty cup down just as a pair of scruffy boots appear in your eyeline while you stare at the floor. Your eyes flick up to find Ezra standing in front of you. Your eyes widen, and you glance beside you to see if he’s here to speak to someone prettier, but his dark eyes meet yours as you brave looking at his face. “Good evenin’.” He greets you, and you fluster, “hi. I- I didn’t think you’d be here tonight. Didn’t think this was your scene.” You say, shifting from one foot to the other as your nerves make the juice slosh in your stomach.

“Didn’t think I would make an appearance, but the thought of dancing convinced me.” He flashes you a slight grin and loves the way you fluster slightly. You’re nervous, and it matches the same butterflies in his own stomach, hopefully. “Shall we, little bird?” He asks, holding out his hand to you.

You are surprised, your eyes dropping to his hand, and you don’t hesitate to take it. You are shocked that he wants to dance with you, but you accept his invitation, and he escorts you onto the dance floor. Your hand grips his, your other hand finds his shoulder, finding the beat, and his smile is infectious as he swings you around the dance floor. A giggle fills your throat as he leads you around the floor, almost bumping into other couples. Your smile almost makes your face hurt as he sways you around, and you cling to him, laughing in joy as your troubles are momentarily lifted from your shoulders.

The sound of your giggle enthralls him, making him grin even though he’s decidedly not the best dancer. He is better with his hands than his feet. “Your smile is infectious.” He coos, puffing up like a peacock because he is escorting the prettiest girl around the floor. “Soon, the entire room will catch.”

You shake your head with a wry smile, leaning against him slightly as the song ends, and you reluctantly let go of his hands to applaud the band. "Thank you for the dance, Ezra." You say softly, and the band begins to play again, something slower. You prepare to walk off to lean against the wall again, but Ezra captures your hand, dragging you back towards him and into his chest. His eyes meet yours once more as he wraps his arm around your waist, starting to sway you to the slower song. Your heart pounds in your chest, you swear he can feel it, and you know this dance changes everything.

Ezra has learned that he can spout a pretty phrase. Some might call him talkative or a yapper, but he’s now silent. He is taking in your beauty and memorizing this moment. His crush on you is blooming into full romance and he wishes that he were rich so he could dress you in fine clothes and bring you flowers every day. “You strike me mute, little bird.” He whispers after a moment. “I am the most fortunate soul here tonight, holding someone of such profound grace.”

You fluster at his compliments, “you’re mute? A rare event.” You tease, your fingers flexing around his, and you clear your throat. “You flatter me, Ez. I am - I am the lucky one. Every girl in here tonight wants your attention. Including Dotty.” You look over to the company owner’s daughter. She’s part of one of two wealthy families in town.

“She doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Ezra insists. Despite her family affluence, he's never been one to want the slightly older girl. He was aware that he would always be considered less than, despite his lengthy verbiage. “You are the lovely siren who has captured my attention and leads me towards the treacherous rocky shoals of love.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, and you offer him a shy smile. “I must admit…my feelings are - I have been quite enamored with you since we were in school together.” You reveal, biting your lip. Ezra is older than you by a couple of years, and you would’ve thought that Dotty would be more his type. His ambition to succeed is well-known in the town. Wanting more from life than to work the mines like his daddy did. “I didn’t think - I thought you considered me as nothing more than a friend.”

“Little bird, I have been remiss in expressing the extent of my affections because I have been afraid of the cold dread of rejection.” He admits softly, his eyes staring into yours. “Tonight, though? The double moons are shining, and there is a hope in my heart that you would take pity on a lowly mortal such as myself and shower me with a sliver of your affection.”

You inhale sharply at his sweet words, your heart pounding in your chest, and you nod, “I- I would love to love you, Ezra.” You promise him, “you want to find somewhere quiet?” You ask, and he nods, taking your hand to escort you off the dance floor and outside the hall. The air is dusty, and you cough slightly. Most citizens of your home didn’t survive for as long as people on other planets as they inhaled the fumes and dust from the mines. You turn towards Ezra after he guides you to a secluded spot behind the hall, and you feel giddy. Leaning in, you cup his cheek and caress his stubbled skin. “I love you, Ez.” You murmur, wanting him to know how you feel. You’ve loved him since the moment you met him in school. His vivacious vocabulary and the ambition he tries to conceal to not get into too much trouble with the powers that be. You love all of him.

“I love you too, little bird.” Ezra promises you, lunging forward to press his lips to yours as gently as he can manage even though his heart is beating out of his chest. Overjoyed that you share his affections, he pulls you closer to him, groaning against your lips. Kissing them over and over again before he pulls away. “I can assure you that the extent of my feelings is no passing fancy; I would have nothing more than a future laid out with you. Making our fortunes off this wretched rock and living a life of love and laughter together.”

**** 

You look out the window, washing the dishes from making dinner that is cooking on the stove, when you see him. He’s covered in soot and grime, his smile wide as he sees you through the tatty curtains in the small window. You return his smile, looking forward to seeing him after he’s been at work. “Hi, baby.” You coo as he walks into your shared home. Since he started working for the company, he was given his place. It’s small, but it’s big enough for both of you.

“Hey, little bird.” He is exhausted and upset, but you lift his spirits. “You are a sight for sore and gritty eyes.” He’s too dirty to touch you, so he settles for a small kiss as you take his lunch pail from him. Rather than eat at the company store and accumulate more credits he can’t pay, you fix him lunch to take every day. “Let me clean up, and I’ll kiss you like you deserve.”

“Let me run you a bath, my love. You must be aching after a long day.” You declare, knowing how your father would groan as he sat down in his chair after working all day. He nods, and you walk into the bathroom to turn on the faucet in the tub. The water is brown at first then clears before you put the plug in. You grab the bar of soap and the rags you washed earlier by hand, setting up the tub for him to wash off the day's grime. He kicks off his boots by the door, shrugging out of his overalls, and he walks into the bathroom; his hands and face are still dirty but his clothing covered the rest of him. “Nearly ready.” You offer him a soft smile, “I have dinner cooking too. Won’t be too long.”

“You are too good to me.” Ezra groans as he steps into the bath. The hot water heater is too costly to run, so the water is never boiling unless you boil it on the stove. This would cost you fuel, so Ezra settles for a cool bath. “Fuckin’ mine raised their quotas again.” He huffs as he sits down, hissing slightly at the water.

You shake your head, reaching for the rag to wet it in the water so you can clean his back. He can never reach it properly. “Again? Kevva, it’s - it’s too much. You can’t keep up with that.” You murmur with a frown, “we could always move in with my parents. I mean, the company gave us this home without us being married; we could pretend to split up and move in with my parents without the bosses knowing.” You suggest, wanting to make things easier even if it means living back home. Not having the privacy to be together like you want. It’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make if it means he suffers less.

“No.” Ezra shakes his head immediately, dirt falling off of him and into the water. “I can provide for my girl. Ain’t no way that I will live off your father breaking his back and hold my head up.” He tells you stubbornly. “I just need to up my production. Maybe explore a few of the new veins.”

You sigh, continuing to wash him and you are worried he’s working himself into an early grave. “Ezra…I don’t - I am working on my nursing degree. I’m nearly done. Then we have another income. I’ll work at the company hospital.” You say, wanting to assure him that you will be helping so he doesn’t work himself to the bone.

“Little bird, I am hoping that at some point, we are off this confounded rock.” Ezra admits, looking down as the water starts to turn black. “I wish to show you the stars up close. To make sure you never have to work yourself to the grave in order to keep our babies bellies full when Kevva graces us with children.”

You smile softly at his promise and the thought of children. His children. You sigh and rub his back, “you gotta make an honest woman of me first.” You teasingly remind him, “or are you going to keep me in our home in sin?” You joke and wash his back.

“I’ll keep you however I can keep you.” Ezra promises. “The marriage license is almost a full day's wages.” He reveals quietly. “I’ve nearly got that saved up. Maybe another week?” He tells you. “It includes a ring, but I want to get you something better than the piece of tin they provide.”

You reach up to caress his dirty cheek, “baby. I would wait a lifetime to marry you.” You promise, “I’m only teasing. I - I just can’t wait to be yours. Completely yours.” You murmur and lean over the edge of the tub to kiss his now clean cheek.

Ezra smirks, wrapping his arm around you and dragging you into the water with him, laughing when you screech. “I love you, little bird.” He promises. “Even when you are soaking wet.”

You can’t be mad at him when he drags you into the tub with him. “You love me when I’m soaking wet.” You smirk, running your fingers through his wet hair as he cradles your body in the tub.

“I do.” He growls playfully. “Because you get so wet for me.” Leaning in, Ezra bites your neck, his semi-hard cock getting harder underneath you as he runs his hands down to grab your ass.

You moan and turn your head to press your lips to his, groaning as his fingers dig into your flesh. “Ezra, my love.” You whimper, grinding down onto him and you grow wetter for him, wanting him to fuck you now that he’s home.

“You want some attention, little bird?” As tired as he is, he will never deny you. Wanting you as much as he needs to breathe. “Why don’t I show you what I was thinking about doing to you while I was working?” He grunts, pushing you up onto the edge of the tub and fighting with the wet material of your dress to reach your soaked and threadbare panties underneath.

You gasp when he rips the panties clean off of your body. You know you’d be annoyed at wasting one of the scarce pairs of panties you own if you weren’t so turned on. He tosses the wet material onto the floor and pushes your legs open, making you moan his name as his hands trail along your wet thighs. “Ez, please.” You beg him sweetly, needing to feel more of him. You never seem to get enough of him. When his tongue slides through your folds after he leans in towards your cunt, a low groan escapes your lips and his dark eyes meet yours when he starts his mission to make you cum on his tongue.

Every time he tastes you, Ezra becomes a little more obsessed. The musky, tangy taste of your cunt, mixed with the uniqueness of your skin tastes like the sweet cakes that were a treat on rare occasions. He grips your thighs, holding them open so he can lick deeper. Groaning into your folds as he devours you.

Your fingers find balance on the edge of the tub and you moan as his tongue slides through your folds and flicks over your clit. “Oh Ez.” You whimper, loving the way he groans into your flesh, vibrating against your clit. He gets better and better with each time he touches you. He was your first, not too long after the dance together at the hall when you proclaimed your love.

Ezra groans as he tries to write a sonnet into your cunt, his tongue the pen and your folds the paper. Loving how you just shake and moan for him. He slides his hands along your thigh, now clean from the grime and soot of the day to press two thick fingers inside you.

You moan, pushing his head deeper into your pussy as he laps at your clit, his fingers curling deep enough to make you whine his name and you rock your hips up into his face. “Shit, baby. I- it’s always so good.”

He grunts in response, wishing he could talk while he eats your cunt but he can only show you what he feels. Groaning as he curls his fingers up and pumps them in and out of you.

You pant, eyes closing as he pushes you over the edge. You clamp down on his fingers and cry out his name, your fingers tugging on his hair until your grip softens as you ride your orgasm. Pulling turning to running your fingers through his wet strands. “I love you, baby.” You murmur, blissed out.

“Love you too.” He promises, looking at you in adoration as he pulls his fingers out of you and smirks, feeling how wet they are with your juices. “Are you up to more, little bird?” As voracious as he is for you, he always checks to make sure you want sex after you cum.

You nod, shifting into the tub to straddle him, and you reach for your now soaked dress, dragging it off of your body and tossing it onto the floor where it plops. “I am always aching for more of you, baby.” You promise, reaching down to wrap your fingers around his cock.

Ezra groans, cock throbbing in your hand and he rocks his hips up. “Fuck, baby, I love the way you love my cock.” He pants softly. “Your touch burns me to my very soul.”

His words are always so poetic. Your heart thumps in your chest, and you shift up onto your knees so you can position yourself above his cock. The water is dirty but you don’t care as you start to sink down on him. He stretches you out but you take him so well after so many nights spent in each other’s arms. “I love you.” You murmur, caressing his cheeks as you take all of him inside of you.

“You are my sun and stars.” Ezra chokes out, closing his eyes as your cunt wraps around his cock. “The goddess that I worship, the only deity I will ever pray to, Kevva forgive me.” He hisses when you clench around him. “The light from which I draw my very existence from.”

You caress his cheeks down to his chest, feeling his heart thumping under your palm. Your pussy flutters around his cock as his hands slide along your spine. “My love.” You murmur, “you’re my world. This fucking planet won’t rule us. We will - we will conquer it.” You lean in to press your lips to his.

Ezra groans against your lips, feeling like he is the king of the world right now with you perched on his cock and vowing your love. He squeezes your ass and rocks you up, encouraging you to move. Desperate to feel you fall apart for him.

You whimper at the way he feels inside of you. Your first and last lover. You rock on top of him, gripping the sides of the tub for leverage as you want to see him fall apart beneath you. “Fuck. You feel so good inside of me, Ez.” You pant, clenching around him.

“That’s ’cause I’m yours.” Ezra pants out. “Completely yours. Always yours.” He is yours, his heart is so completely given to you, that he will do anything to make you happy and comfortable.

You love hearing him proclaim that he’s yours. You moan his name as he twitches inside of you, your fingers gripping the edge of the tub as you move faster, working yourself up to an orgasm.

You are so close. He has fucked you enough that he can tell by the way you moan. He leans down and pulls your nipple into his mouth and sucks harshly.

You moan his name again, one hand tangling in his hair as you rock a little faster. “Oh fuck baby.” You whine, so so close. He bites down on your nipple and it sends you over the edge. You cry out, eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him while you shake above him.

Ezra moans your name, twitching inside you. So close to cumming himself from the sheer force of your walls contracting around him. “Fuck, fuck baby.” He grunts, gritting his teeth and holding you tighter and he starts to rock up into you frantically, spilling the dirty water onto the floor in his haste. “Fuck!” His strangled cry is cut off when he buries his cock deep to pump you full of his hot seed, thankful for the implant in your arms to keep you from having a child just yet.

You love the way he fills you up, making you relax above him, and you caress his neck as he twitches inside of you. A low groan escaping his lips as he kisses along your neck and you sigh in bliss. “Kevva, I love you.” You murmur, knowing you’ll be lost without him.

“I adore you. Worship you, bow down at the preverbal altar of your grace. Obsessed with you.” Ezra murmurs between kisses. “You are my purpose, little bird.” He promises. “Without you, I would be a floater, adrift and alone.”

You sigh, a smile on your face as you look at him in bliss. “I can’t wait to marry you, Ez.” You murmur and he pulls back to look at you, “any day now.” He promises, making your smile widen. You caress his cheeks and reach for the soap. “Now I gotta clean you up again.” You tease, lathering up your hands. Ezra chuckles and your heart clenches, filled with love.

****

You squeeze his hands as he looks at you with adoration, his mother’s ring on your finger as he says his vows. You had told him you didn’t care if you even had a ring, you simply wanted to be his wife, but he’d worked hard and his mother decided to give him her ring that she treasured after her husband was killed in the mines. His mother and your parents watch as you exchange vows and when you’re pronounced as husband and wife, you surge forward to press your lips to Ezra’s. He spins you and dips you while you kiss, making you gasp in shock then giggle against his lips. When he steadies you when you’re upright, you cup his cheek, “I can’t believe I’m your wife. Finally.”

“I have been blessed by Kevva.” Ezra hums, smiling like he has won the lottery. “I promise that we will be rich, little bird. We will not live and die on this miserable little rock for too much longer.”

You shake your head, “it - if it never happens, I won’t be upset because I have you, my love. As long as I have you.” You promise, and he nods, but you don’t see the look in his eyes. The determination. Your parents come over to congratulate you until the officiant gets you over to sign your marriage certificate, the company logo on the stamp. They even own your marriage. You don’t hesitate to sign, wanting to belong to Ezra, not giving a shit about the company. You will both work hard to achieve the impossible, no matter what it takes.

****

“Mongrel, fucking Jack-knifed thieving, sons of cunts!” Ezra slams the door opened, scowling fiercely as he throws the pail that you pack his lunches on across the room. Startling you so much that you jump from where you are studying for an exam, but he doesn’t pay that any mind as he starts to pace. “Ezra! What’s-“ 

Ezra growls, shoving a dirty hand through his hair. “They’ve cut the value of the fucking mineral.” He hisses. “Down to about a quarter of what it was. Now you need to mine three times as much to keep the same fucking credits coming in.” He stops in the middle of the floor, utterly defeated. “They ain’t lowering their credits for shit, though, greedy bastards.”

Your eyes widen, “they haven’t! They - oh Kevva.” You feel a little sick. How are you going to pay for the house? How will you eat? The company owns everything, even your marriage. You shake your head, “baby. I- oh Kevva.” You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his cheeks.

Ezra feels defeated. “We’ve got to get off this rock.” He tells you, his tone flat. “They’re gonna kill us, work us to our graves if we don’t.” His mother has already passed, just two weeks ago, slowly withering away from the dust in her lungs after a lifetime here. “They are bleeding us of our very marrow, little bird.”

“What can we do, Ez?” You ask him hopelessly, shaking your head. You feel defeated, like you’re never going to get away from the company that owns you. “I- I am nearly done with my degree. Once I have that I can apply for a job off planet and then we can leave here.”

“We won’t make it until then.” Ezra has crunched the number and crunched the numbers after hearing the announcement. “I’m going to see if there’s something that can be done.” He decides, looking you in the eyes. “Whatever it takes.”

You look at him, shaking your head again in despair and you know he will do what it takes to make sure you survive. “I know, baby.” You murmur, staring out of the window at the smog.

“I’m gonna shower and change.” Ezra tells you. “Don’t worry about dinner, little bird.” He reaches up and chucks your chin lovingly. “I’ll be home too late to eat.”

You smile, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Have a good time with Jasper.” You tell him, knowing he needs a night out with his friend to relax. “I’ll be waiting for you.” You wink and he smirks.

****

You glance over at the clock, a frown on your face at how late it is. You’re worried about Ezra. Worried that something has happened to him. You bite your lip, shifting in your bed as you wait for your husband to get home. You usually wouldn’t stay up so late to wait for him but it’s way past the time he said he’d be home.

Ezra frowns into his glass of liquor, it's more credits that he doesn't have, but luckily it's cheaper than most. "I just don't understand what these blood-sucking mongers expect from us." He grumbles, not for the first time. "Gotta get off this heap." He tells his best friend. "Need credits to get away. Me and little bird."

Jasper sighs, shaking his head as he sips the whiskey that cost a whole day of work. “I don’t know how you’re gonna do it, man. They have us by the short and curlies. Everything we make, we put back into their pocket and we don’t get nothing for the back breaking work. This fuckin’ planet is killin’ us and - and I want you to get off of this shit rock, brother. You and your lady deserve it.” Jasper finishes just as Dotty comes over to the bar, her cleavage pronounced as she leans against the sticky counter. “Fancy seeing you here, Ezra.” She coos, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Hey, Dotty." Ezra mumbles, finding it hard not to be annoyed at the appearance of one of the richest people on the fucking planet. Her family held more credits than the entire workforce of miners here combined. It was un-fucking-fair. "What are you doing slumming it here with all the 'ner do wells?" He snorts before he takes a sip of his drink.

She giggles, “decided to come here and see if I could find someone to entertain me for the night.” She says, her eyes flirtatious as she trails them along Ezra’s form. “I haven’t had any offers…yet.” She smirks, “but I would turn them all away if I knew I could have you.”

Dotty has been less than inconspicuous in her attempts at cajoling Ezra into her bed. He shakes his head and sends her a rueful grin. “Married, Dot. Remember?” He tells you, wishing he could afford a ring for himself to hold up to signify his married status. Hell, he couldn't even afford you a ring. The only reason you had one was because of someone giving up their own token. “You could have any guy here. Why would you lower yourself to settle on me?”

Dotty scoffs, “married…to that nobody. I could make you somebody here, handsome. You’d be the king of the planet. I want you, Ezra. And I’m willing to pay to have you in my bed. Ten thousand credits. All you have to do is give me one night.” She says, fluttering her eyelashes to make herself look more enticing while she’s trying to bribe Ezra into fucking her.

Ten thousand credits. Ezra’s eyes widen at the amount Dotty is willing to pay. It would be enough to move off planet with you. To get away. Still, he shakes his head, “I’m afraid I will have to decline such a generous offer.” He tells her. Looking down at his drink he sighs.

Dotty pouts at the man who just turned down her offer but his friend nods in admiration. “Whatever. It’s your loss.” She says and struts off to sit back down at her table with her equally rich cousin. Jasper shakes his head, “I admire you for turning down the offer, Ez. Not many men would turn down a free night with Dotty, let alone one they are being paid for. Good for you. I gotta get back, my lady has been having trouble getting to sleep without me there. I’ll see you on Monday, my friend.” Jasper slaps Ezra on the shoulder and pays his tab, leaving the bar. “Check, please.” Ezra asks the bartender who nods, setting down the check that is more than Ezra expected it to be.

“How the hell is it this much?” Ezra frowns at the paper, wondering how the hell he is going to pay this. “It’s three times more than it should be!” The bartender shrugs. “Prices went up.” He tells Ezra, who growls and balls up the tab. He doesn’t have this kind of money. The credits in his pocket needed to pay for the food bill at the store. “Kevva forsaken mother fuckers.” He hisses, rubbing a hand through his hair.

Dotty sways her hips as she comes back over to the bar, seeing Ezra’s frustrations. “Put it on my tab.” She says, knowing Ezra can’t afford the new prices her father approved for the liquor. She doesn’t necessarily agree with her father’s plans to bleed his workers dry but she benefits from it, able to buy whatever she wants. She goes off planet to shop and for education. Ezra shakes his head, about to protest but she leans in, her cleavage pushed even higher. “Come on, handsome. I know my daddy’s quotas are killing you. I know you want to leave this place. Take my offer. Kevva, I’ll double it. Twenty thousand credits for one night. I just want to experience you, your cock. I won’t mention a word of it. One night and you and your little rag doll are free from this place.” She offers with a smirk on her lips.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but the offer is almost enough. “Thirty thousand.” He levels her a dirty look. “If I’m going to tarnish my vows to my wife, it needs to be worth it. Let me take her off world and give her whatever she desires.”

Dotty nods, a sly smirk on her face as she holds her hand out towards Ezra. “We have a deal, baby.” She coos and squeezes his hand when he reluctantly holds it out. She can see the hesitation in his eyes but she knows she can win him over with money and with sex. She just needs a night to prove to him that she’s better than you. Her daddy can cancel your marriage as easily as a signature. Then she can marry Ezra and have her happy ending. You’ll be nothing when she’s done with him. “Let’s go, handsome. Tab is paid.” The bartender nods and she grabs her purse, “you ready to come home with me?”

Ezra wants to say no, but he tells himself that he is doing this for you. For your future. He knows that there is no way he would ever get that kind of money together. “One night.” He reminds her. “And you give me the credits before.” He feels slightly dirty, basically selling himself.

Dotty nods and takes his hand as she guides him out of the bar with a smirk on her face. She’s going to get what she wants. Finally.

****

You look over at the clock, worried about Ezra. You haven’t slept and he hasn’t come home. You tried calling Jasper but there was no answer. You tried calling the bar. No one is answering and you’re terrified something bad has happened to your husband. You swallow down your tears as you try to hold yourself together, wondering if he ended up sleeping at Jasper’s but why wouldn’t he call you to check in? You give up on sleep and get out of bed, heading into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. You pick up the tin of grounds and choke when you discover it’s empty. You toss it down on the counter, a sob escaping your lips just as the front door opens and Ezra walks in. Your eyes widen and you rush over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Oh baby. I was so worried. I thought something had happened to you.”

Ezra is exhausted and feeling guilty, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight. “I’m fine, little bird.” He promises, pulling away and smiling at you in delight. “Go and pack your things, we are leaving this festering pile of refuse and never looking back.” He pulls out the wad of credits that Dotty had given him, all thirty thousand of them and shows you. “Our luck has changed.”

Your eyes widen at the credits in his hand. “Where - how did you get this?” You ask, confused and concerned that he sold something or did something reckless to more credits than you could earn in ten years. “What - where have you been?” You question, confusion etched into your features as you stare at your husband, not moving from your spot.

“Little bird, I assure you that nothing was done without the most noble of intentions.” He placates. “I was offered the sum in exchange for my time.” He’s not telling you the entire truth, but it’s better that you not know. It would upset you and you wouldn’t understand that it was merely physical for Ezra. He had not even cared about his own satisfaction and had to think of you to even cum.

Your frown deepens, “your time? You- you’ve been out all night. No one has a job in the middle of the night? Unless it’s…unless you whored yourself out.” You joke, chuckling but he doesn’t laugh with you, his eyes a little pained. “Wait…you didn’t - Ezra?” You question, feeling your chest tighten.

Ezra shuffles slightly, feeling that sense of dread harden in his stomach. “We would never have escaped here. They are killing us.” He tells you adamantly. “I was offered ten thousand and it wasn’t enough. Not enough to give you, us, the start somewhere else that we deserve.” He steps towards you and hates when you step back. “Little bird….I did this for us.”

You shake your head, feeling sick, "who did you - Dotty. Tell me it wasn't Dotty." You plead despite knowing deep down it's the truth. She's the woman who has always wanted your husband and she has that kind of money.

“It doesn’t matter. I promise you, little bird, nothing that transpired meant anything to me.” He still won’t come out and say it. “All that matters is that you and I can leave, to create a life for ourselves together.”

Your eyes widen at his thinly veiled confession and you feel sick. You shake your head, “nnn-no. I- oh Kevva. You - you and Dotty.” You choke, turning from him and you shrug him off when he touches your shoulder. “Little bird, please-” You shake your head and turn to look him in the eye. “Get out. Now. Get the fuck out!” You scream, shoving his chest. Your heart breaking in your own.

Ezra feels defeated, broken. Giving up so much of himself for you. You just need time, you will see why he sacrificed himself. “I-I’ll go.” He steps back, dropping the credits on the ground. “You will understand why I acted on the offer when the weight of their wants crush us.” He vows, turning around and walking out. He needs to plan your exit from this place, that will give you time to cool down.

You stare at him as he walks out and when the door shuts behind him, you collapse to the floor, sobs leaving your lips. You’re devastated. He cheated on you for money. He cheated on you with Dotty. You sob until your head hurts and you curl into a ball, numb from the pain of Ezra’s betrayal. It’s more than you can bear. You don’t care about the money, you would live under a bridge if you were with Ezra. Nothing mattered but loving him.

Everyone he knows is at work, toiling away. He walks along the empty streets towards the transport office. Wanting to reserve two seats on the next shuttle off planet. Wondering why you are acting like this? He had told you he would do whatever it took to provide for you, and now he’s done it. He’s given you a way off this miserable heap.

You sniff as you gather yourself, not wanting Dotty to defeat you completely. You wipe your eyes as you fold your laundry, wondering what underwear Dotty wears. Nicer ones than you, that’s for sure. You don’t look up as the door opens and Ezra walks in. You don’t look at him, continuing to fold the laundry. “I got us two tickets for tomorrow. We leave first thing to the Pug.” He says, “then we can figure out where to go from there.” You don’t answer. “You going to start packing?” He asks, his voice cutting through you enough that you turn to look at him. “I’m not going with you.”

“What? Of course you are.” Ezra scoffs, waiting for you to tell him that you are joking. “Little bird, this has been our dream. To leave this place and now we are.” His frown deepens when you turn back to folding the threadbare clothes that are more patches than original material. “Come on.” He rushes over and grabs the panties you are folding. “We don’t have time for this shit.”

You snap, “this shit? I have always wanted to leave this place but - but not like this. Not because you fucked another woman. I don’t - it’s not the right way, Ezra. I wanted us to leave together knowing we worked hard to get out. You- you betrayed me. You broke our vows. I love you but I can’t go with you. Not like this.” You choke, tears stinging in your eyes.

“You have to come.” Ezra snaps back. “I did this for you! You think I wanted to touch her? To climb into her bed? No, never, but I couldn’t afford our next rent payment!” He bellows, throwing the panties down and venting his frustrations. “I would not see you starving or begging, so I did what I had to do to provide for you! Just like I vowed to!”

You toss another pair of underwear at him. “You cheated on me, Ez! You touched another woman. You broke our vows. You - you betrayed me. You have ruined our marriage. I would rather starve. I’d rather beg. Knowing I have you, completely, that I’m yours and you’re mine. That’s all that mattered. We would be together no matter what we faced but you destroyed that. You fucked another woman!” You scream at him, “you destroyed us!”

“You think I wanted her? That I enjoyed myself?” Ezra snorts. “I sacrificed my body to give you the life that you could never have without that.” He takes a shuddering breath. “I love you, little bird. I love you so much that I did something repugnant for you, for us. I know you are mad, but this place is killing me. I nearly died three days ago, I feel like I’m expiring every time I descend into that mine. Leave with me.” He begs, his face turning to one of desperation. “Please, my love, my goddess, please.”

You choke on a sob, knowing that this is the end. You can never trust him again. Even if you forgive him. “I- I can’t, Ez. I can’t. You - you betrayed me. I can’t trust you anymore. Even if I forgive you, I could never trust you again.” You tell him, reaching up to slide his mother’s ring off of your fingers. Walking over to him, you grab his hand and gently place the ring in his palm, turning his fingers over it to keep it secure.

“Don’t do this.” Ezra chokes out. “Please- Don’t- you don’t want-“ he drops the ring to the floor and stumbles back. “I’m leaving.” He tells you. “Tomorrow. You- you’ll change your mind.” He nods, looking around the little company owned house frantically. “I know you will. You love me and I love you. That’s all that matters.” He scoops up some of the credits and shoves them in his pocket. “I- I’ll give you tonight to think about this. To let you cool down more.” He looks at you and there’s a strange light in his eyes, like he’s unable to face reality. “You’ll be there.” He tells himself and turns to walk out again.

You know he won’t accept you breaking up with him, but he has to. You can’t leave with him. You swallow harshly, shaking your head as he shuts the door behind him and you pick up the ring and the credits, wanting to keep them for him to take tomorrow. You have nearly finished your degree, only a few weeks left. Once that’s done, you’ll move off planet and make a new start. Without your husband. You wipe your tears, wondering if Ezra will change his mind on leaving or if he’s gone forever. You won’t be there to meet him at the station.

****

Ezra waits. His leg is bouncing as he watches the door of the terminal. He’s biting his lip and praying to Kevva to see your figure dash through the lobby in search of him. Needing to have you with him. “Sir?” He turns his head to find an attendant giving him a small smile. “I’m afraid the transport is calling for final boarding.” She explains and he swallows harshly. “I’m coming.” He says, standing up and looking back at the door one last time. You aren’t here and he can’t wait another week for the next transport. With a heavy heart, Ezra turns and walks away, heading for the transport off planet and away from the woman he loves.

You stare out of the window, the transporter lifting into the air and disappearing into the smog above. You close your eyes, knowing Ezra is on it. He’s left the planet, he’s left you. You know it’s for the best but your heart breaks.

****

“We have a patient. It’s an emergency.” You hear your name and look up at your matron, setting down your drink and you stand up, brushing down your scrubs. You rush down the hall of the Pug hospital to the room where the patient is and storm in, ready to assist. “He’s severely dehydrated and is missing an arm. It’s been removed poorly. He has sepsis. We need to move fast before he is beyond saving.” The other nurse tells you and you nod, pulling on gloves as you come over to the patient. You don’t recognize him at first, he’s older and looks haggard but you know that scar on his cheek. The one he got as a kid when he was in a fight because someone stole his lunch. “Ezra.” You gasp, knowing your husband despite it being so many years.

Ezra fever is climbing, sweat covering his body and he knows it’s a hallucination. “Little bird.” He croaks out, eyes bloodshot and fixed on you for a moment before they roll back in his head. His body slumps and alarms start to blare from where he was hooked up to monitors. “Save him!” Cee rushes into the room, her face almost panicked as she imagines losing the man who had protected her and she had also protected.

“Get her in the waiting room.” You demand and one of the other nurses takes Cee away, murmuring to her. Your heart is pounding as you fight to keep Ezra alive. Calling out to the others to get you what you need as you work to resuscitate him. “Don’t give up. Don’t you dare go like this.” You hiss at him as you pump his chest.

Adrift, Ezra is back where he always dreams of when he is happy, lonely, hurt or scared - in your arms. "I love you, little bird." He coos, kissing your lips again and again as he sighs. Feeling almost nothing but the supreme bliss of your love as you stroke his back and sides as you beam up at him. "I love you." You whisper back, making his heart thump with joy.

You panic, working hard to save him and when he stabilizes, you exhale shakily and continue working to save his life. When he’s stable and put into a private room at your request, you caress his cheek. The machines beep and reassure you he’s alive as you stare at the man you’ve always loved, even when you hated him. “Where have you been?” You ask, wondering where he has been spending his time. After he left your home planet, you realized you loved him more than any one mistake. Understanding that he did it for you, for your life together. Even if you were hurt and upset, you left the next week on the very next transporter to try and find him at the Pug but there was no sign of him. That was strands ago and you gave up trying to find your husband. His mother’s ring is on a chain around your neck, close to your heart. You don’t notice the girl coming into the room with your colleague until it’s too late and you pull your hand away.

"Do you know him?" Cee asks, her eyes focused on Ezra as he sleeps and then she looks back at you. "I- we- are you his daughter?" You ask, horrified that he might have fathered a child with someone when he left. Anything was possible. "No." The girl laughs and shakes her head. "He saved my life." She tells her. "After he killed my father. Or maybe it was when he did?" She tells you. "I'm Cee."

You are confused, trying to keep up with her story. You tell her your name, “I’m - I am Ezra’s wife. We are from the same planet. He left after - well, it’s a long story.” You sigh, eyes drifting to his arm. “What happened to his arm?” You ask the girl, wondering if she has the answer.

"I shot him." She admits, biting her lip. "After he killed my father. He came to the Pod. Trying to leave the Green. I was scared and I shot him. It festered and I had to cut off his arm."

You nod, understanding that she must’ve been scared. Ezra looks so weathered, a man who fought hard to survive and that upsets you. You should’ve been there beside him. “Kevva.” You murmur to yourself, sliding your hand down to take his in yours. Wanting to feel connected to him while you can until he wakes up and hates you for not meeting him that day. You’d confronted Dotty after Ezra left, returning her money, and she told you that it took some convincing to get Ezra into her bed. That he had moaned your name when he came. That’s what made you follow him.

“His wife.” Cee frowns and bites her lip. “He- everything we had was left on the Green.” She tells you quietly. “His case of aurelac. I couldn’t go back and get it. I almost couldn’t get him into the transport.” She admits, remembering how worried she had been. “I’m sorry. But- he- he protected me. Told me to leave him, but I couldn’t.”

You inhale sharply, “he nearly - oh Ez.” You sigh, leaning in to press your lips to his forehead. His monitors continue to beep and you are reassured that he’s okay for now. Cee watches you, “he mentioned you. Said he wanted to get the Aurelac to get credits the right way. Go back and find you.” She says and your throat tightens, “I- Kevva.” You shake your head at the time you’ve lost with him.

Ezra can hear you. The sweet cadence of your voice is nearly a faint memory at this point. The last time he had heard your voice was that horrible day where he had ruined his life. Nothing had much damn meaning since leaving the mining world, and you, behind. He had lied, cheated, stolen, killed and literally fucked in his vain attempts to earn enough credits to come back and win your acceptance back. Never really making enough to do that just now, he’s utterly failed. So it’s fitting that you are haunting his dreams, enticing him with the treasure he had once had in you and never would again.

Your shift ends but you don’t go home, sitting at his bedside while Cee sleeps in the chair in the corner. You think about the years you’ve lost together, the life you could’ve shared if you’d followed him off planet. You were younger, in love, and devastated by his betrayal. A betrayal he made to secure a better life for you. He sacrificed himself for you and your marriage, even if he tossed your vows aside. Now you’re older, more experienced, and you understand why he did it. The desperation he was feeling. You forgave him a long time ago, but you’ve never forgiven yourself for not going with him, for abandoning your husband. You hold his hand, listening to the machines beep, waiting for him to wake up.

The dust had taken its toll on Ezra, the nearly pure oxygen pumping through the breathing tubes in his nose helping to clear the buildup inside him. He had been trapped down on the Green for a long time before stumbling upon Damon and Cee. Now his body heals, sleeping heavily as it tries to heal itself. Feeling a squeeze on his hand every now and then, making him twitch slightly and he finally sighs softly, mumbling your name.

Your eyes widen, swearing you heard your name from his lips, and you lean in towards him. “Ezra, my love. I want you to wake up for me now.” You murmur, caressing his forehead and brushing his hair back, that signature blonde piece making your heart twist at the memories of playing with it when you were together.

You are calling to him. The sleep is trying to drag him back under, but he fights it, wanting to be with you. His eyes start to move under his lids and he groans quietly. “Come with me.” He begs, back in that little row house on the mining planet he was born on. “I love you. I’m sorry. I can never express my regret.” He whimpers in his sleep.

Your eyes widen at his sleepy confession, your heart pounding in your chest, and tears sting in your eyes. “I know. I know, my darling. I just need you to wake up for me now. Let me see those gorgeous eyes. The eyes that haunt me. Please.” You beg with a whimper, wanting to see him, to know he’s okay.

“Little bird?” His eyes flutter open slowly. Heavy and closing again only for him to try again. “Have I expired?” He croaks out softly when he catches sight of you and then his eyes close again. Battling them to see his beloved wife. “I must be in heaven if I am reunited with you.”

He hums. “Though I surely am deserving of hell.”

You shake your head, “you have survived. You’re alive. Just open your eyes and see.” You urge, squeezing his hand, “I want to look at you, baby.” You are relieved that he is alive, and he seems dazed but not delusional.

Finally, Ezra’s eyes open clearly. Confused for a moment before he looks at you and his mouth opens, no words coming out save for your name.

You smile at him, a soft, loving smile as relief floods through you at how clear his gaze looks, no longer clouded by infection. “Hi.” You murmur, squeezing his hand as he becomes more lucid.

“You-“ he looks over to see Cee curled up, asleep in a chair in the corner and the past few stands come rushing back to him. “I-“ his head snaps to the right and he sees the bandaged stump of his right arm. “How are you here?” He manages after a shocked moment.

You caress his cheek, “I am a nurse here. I got the job after you left. I- I tried to follow you. Gave the money back to Dotty except the ticket and left the planet to find you but by the time I got here, you were already gone.” You confess, pulling your hand away, realizing he could hate you, or think you still hate him.

“You- you followed me?” He asks, frowning slightly. “I left the Pug almost immediately, finding work as a Prospector.”

“A prospector?” You gasp, glancing over at Cee and she mentioned aurelac. Being a prospector is a certain death. More dangerous than the mines. The prospecting planets are dangerous - both from nature and from humans. The way they would kill and plunder their way through each other. “Why did you become a prospector?” You choke, thanking Kevva he’s still alive, even if he’s worse for wear.

He chuckles, a dark, raspy sound. “It became apparent that my liaison with Dotty not only cost me the love of my life, but my reputation.” He huffs, still miffed by her retribution for leaving. “It has seemed she was hoping amongst hopes that you would leave me, which you did, but I did not fall into her arms in despair like she had anticipated. Her father trashed my name, prospecting was the only work I could garner that could possibly earn a fortune.”

Your eyes widen at how far Dotty was willing to go to get what she wanted. You shake your head, tempted to return to your home planet to teach her a lesson but instead, you squeeze his hand. “Ezra.” You whisper, guilty for what he’s endured when you sent him away. Cee blinks as she opens her eyes, having kept them closed to listen to your conversation. “You also did it to win her back. You told me you wanted to return with enough riches to win your wife back.” Cee says and you look at Ezra, “is that true?”

“Little bird, I must extend my most humble of apologies.” He looks away from you and over to Cee. “Like your daydreams of the heroine in your book, my daydreams of being reunited with my love has been the fuel to keep me going.” He explains. “The light in the darkness and the unattainable goal that I have tasked myself with.” He squeezes your hand gently and finally looks into your eyes again. “No matter how much folly must be overcome.”

You stare at him in shock, those dark brown eyes you’d dream of, the gaze you’d longed for on lonely nights until your anger took hold of your heart again. Seeing him now, looking at you with enough regret for a hundred lifetimes, your heart breaks at the years you’ve lost together. “Ezra, my darling. I’m so sorry.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

Ezra closes his eyes, knowing that you are placating him for the sake of the girl. He doesn’t know what Cee has told you about his relatively short friendship with her. “You have not done a thing to cause regret, little bird.” He whispers, “other than perhaps once loving the scoundrel who battered your heart to pieces by his untamed greed.” He sighs. “Now that greed has turned him into a useless wretch, better for little more than fodder on the Green.”

You sigh, caressing his cheek, “hush now. You need to rest. Once you are cleared to go home, you’ll come back with me. You too.” You turn to look at Cee, unwilling to leave the girl to fend for herself. You have a nice place here on the Pug. It’s small but it’s yours, unlike the shack you lived in on your home planet that was owned by the company. “Just relax for now, Ez. You need to rest and heal.”

****

It had taken some convincing, but Ezra had finally given in to your demand that he come home with you. Mainly for Cee. The poor girl had nowhere to go, the traders unwilling to even consider a deal for the craft she had piloted in. He would heal until he could get her settled and then he would figure out what he will do next.

You set his satchel down and Cee walks into your apartment, smiling at the decor. “This is awesome.” She says, unable to remember walking into a place that felt so much like home. “There’s two bedrooms. Down the hall to the left is yours, Cee.” You tell her, pointing down the hall. You did have a roommate - a girl from the hospital who has since gotten married - and you got a promotion to afford the entire place to yourself after she moved out. Cee rushes down the hall with her bag, and you walk across the living room to the other door. “Ezra, this is your room.” You tell him, opening your bedroom door to him. He turns to look at you with a frown, “where are you sleeping?” He asks and you jerk your chin over to the sofa. “On the sofa.” He shakes his head but you stop him protesting, “it’s more comfortable than our bed back home. I’ll be fine. You need rest. You need to be comfortable.”

“I am not taking your room, little bird.” He tells you with a frown. “I have already committed so many sins against you, I would not add another to my blackened soul.”

You sigh, knowing how stubborn he can be. How convincing he can be to get his way when he wants to. “We are adults. We can share a bed.” You declare, knowing you’ll end up on the sofa after he’s asleep but at least you’re giving him the illusion that he’s not pushing you out of your bed. He needs to heal and to heal, he needs to be relaxed.

“You don’t want to share a bed with me.” He scoffs, eyes cast towards the door that Cee had disappeared through. “The sofa you have looks better than the last ten places I’ve slept.”

You huff, "Ezra. You aren't going on the fucking sofa. Just take the damn bed." You demand, "I know what it takes to heal. Listen to me for once in your life." You growl, growing tired of his martyrdom.

Your comment hits him where it hurts and his eyes shutter. “Whatever you say is best.” He murmurs, turning to shuffle into the bedroom that is your space. It will be torment for him, his own special kind of hell where he is surrounded by you and yet you are still so far away.

You prepare dinner for Ezra and Cee while they settle in. Unsure of how to feel now that Ezra is in your home and on his way to being healed. You stir the pasta as Ezra enters the tiny kitchen, his shirt sleeve hanging down and your stomach twists at his missing limb. A shadow of the vivacious man you married. “I made your favorite…I - I don’t know if it’s still your favorite.” You add, looking at him from the stove.

“It has been a long time since I’ve eaten that particular cuisine.” He admits. “Since the last time you made it for me. I have mainly lived off bits bars and packaged protein pouches.”

You hate hearing that but you remind yourself that he got himself in that situation by breaking your wedding vows. He’s still technically your husband unless Dotty had her father sign away your marriage. You wouldn’t be surprised. You offer him a small smile, “hopefully it’s as good as it used to be.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Ezra murmurs softly. “You have always been able to create culinary art with simple ingredients. Shame the devil, you were a better cook than my poor mother.”

You shake your head, “your mama was a damn good cook.” You remember when she would bring food over for you and Ezra when you first moved in together. You gesture to the table and call for Cee to come and get some dinner. It’s a quiet event but Cee fills the space with a ramble about her new school. You smile at her, liking her positivity in life despite the hand she was dealt and you enjoy the small groans that escape Ezra’s lips as he eats his dinner. “Good?” You ask him, hoping he likes it.

“Ambrosia.” His eyes flutter closed and he savors the food, memories of past meals just like this come flooding back. Reminding him of what he had at one point. Especially because eating with his left hand is harder than he would have expected. Leaning back, he swallows the bite and groans. “It’s just like I remembered. Maybe even more delicious.”

You watch him struggle with his left hand but don’t try to help him, knowing he would be frustrated and lash out. “I already arranged for you to have physical therapy to help you adjust to your left hand.” You tell him and he doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t argue so you take that as a victory. Cee compliments your food and helps you clean the dishes while Ezra has a shower. Cee bids you goodnight not long after you finish drying so you decide to go into your bedroom to see if Ezra needs help. He does. He struggles to pull his underwear up his legs and you find him in the bedroom struggling to put his t-shirt on. “Here.” You say, “let me help.” You reach out to gently pull the shirt over his head and his dark eyes meet yours.

“Why are you helping me?” He demands. “You should leave me to struggle. I would deserve it for what I did. What I put you through.” He admits. “If you think that my betrayal with Dotty was bad, I have committed even more sins after becoming so adrift by myself.” He snorts. “I became a floater, without an anchor.”

You stare at him, letting him rant for a moment. “Then you clearly forget who I am, Ez. I would never leave you to struggle when you need me. You might’ve discarded our vows but I promised to stand by you in sickness and in health. I don’t care what sins you committed after you left, that’s for your soul to carry but I’m here to be your wife, even if you don’t want me to be.”

“You told me to leave.” Ezra reminds you bitterly. “My momma’s ring in my hand, fresh from your finger.” He shakes his head. “I do not wish to have you mistake your pity for some kind of misguided duty.” Even though he had wanted to win you back, he had always thought of it as impossible. Refusing to believe you would want to be with him in any true sense after that day.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I told you to leave because you broke my heart. You broke our vows for credits. I- I didn’t understand it. Then you left and I spent days just wondering what I did wrong until I came across Dotty and she told me you could barely get hard for her. That you moaned my name when you came. She might’ve had your body but I had your heart, your desire, your mind. That’s why I decided to follow you but by the time I got here, you were gone. I never stopped loving you. It’s always been you in my heart. Only you.” You promise, “even if you don’t believe me, I want you to know that.” You murmur, stepping back from him.

“Little bird….I cannot claim that I have not had other affairs, other physical encounters.” He admits, frowning slightly at the idea that he might hurt you further. “When I left that world, I was broken. Convinced that my love, my entire heart, hated me. I have lived as if I was unmarried, but never once, in all the encounters I have had, has someone even touched my heart.” He huffs slightly and gives you a sad smile. “It’s hard for someone to steal something that isn’t mine to bequeath them. Not when I left it behind in your hands.”

You sigh and nod softly, “I haven’t been without my own encounters, Ez. I wasn’t going to sit around and pretend like I’d find you again and everything would be like it was. I- I’ve had my share of physical encounters here on the Pug but no one has had my heart. I’m certain that Dotty had our marriage annulled by her father the morning after you slept with her because my name on the transport was my maiden name in the system. Our vows weren’t broken anymore than they already were.” You promise, “we have both lived our lives to survive.”

His heart clenches and he nods. “She was diabolical enough to do just such a thing.” He growls, hating that he had ever known the bitch. “If I could change things, I would have never entertained the idea, let alone done it.” He murmurs. “I’ve lost so much, but my greatest regret was losing you.”

You reach up to cup his cheek, “baby. Baby. I- I love you. I forgave you long ago. I understand why you did it. Now I understand what you did was for us. I was betrayed, I was hurt. I was devastated that you broke our vows. You didn’t want to - I know that you didn’t want to touch her. I love you, Ez. No one has ever held a candle to you.” You murmur, shaking your head.

It’s an absolution he never thought he would receive, one he never deserved in his mind once he had worked through his righteous anger. He had betrayed you, even though he was doing the only thing he could at the time to try to improve your situation. It had ended up costing him everything. “I-“ he breaks down, closing his eyes and whimpering out a sob of relief. You said you love him, not past tense, but that you still do. “I adore you, little bird. Always.”

You pull him close to wrap your arms around him, his one arm pulling you close as he sobs into your neck. You can tell he’s been through so much. “Let’s get some rest, my darling. You need to sleep.” You murmur, rubbing his back as he calms down.

He’s uncharacteristically meek as you lead him towards the bed, exhausted from the emotional outburst and the relief that you no longer hate him. He sits down when you draw the covers back. “I could have had the fortune.” He murmurs softly, frowning. “But I would have had to trade Cee to the Saters on the Green.” He looks up at you sorrowfully. “I couldn’t do that. Not to that little girl.”

You caress his cheek, “you might think you’re a monster but deep down, you’re a good man. The man I married is a good man. You did what you felt was right and you didn’t make the same mistake twice. You saved her. She saved you. She will always have a home with us if she wants to.” You promise him, pushing him back towards the bed.

Your approval is all that matters to him. Leaning back and closing his eyes with a sigh. “I’m sorry you have to deal with me.” He murmurs. “Useless now. Can’t barely dress myself.”

You chuckle, “in sickness and in health, baby.” You pull the covers over him and lean in to kiss his forehead, “you’ll get better. You just need to figure out how to do everything left-handed. It will take time but you’ll get there.” You murmur, standing back up. 

“Stay.” He pleads softly, those dark eyes burning into you. You hesitate for a second, knowing this is crossing a line you can’t come back from but you don’t care. You nod, silently agreeing as you make your way into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

He knows that you’ve been sleeping on the couch. You’ve always conveniently had to do things until he’s fallen asleep and that side was never disturbed. Now, he watches the bathroom, feeling like it’s the first night you’ve ever spent together, even though physical intimacy isn’t on the table. When you come back out, Ezra sighs, “Birdie, you are still the most gorgeous creature I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.”

You fluster under his dark stare and his praise. "The years haven't always been kind to me." You confess and shift to lay down on the bed, getting under the sheets. "I have missed my best friend." You murmur, shifting closer to him.

Ezra opens his lone arm, offering you the place against his side that you always preferred. “I have missed you with every beat of my heart and every labored breath I have taken since we were parted.” He promises, pleased when you shuffle closer and lay your head on his shoulder. “I should have never left you. Despite what sins I committed. I should have stayed and groveled at your feet.”

You sigh, reaching up to rub your fingers through his hair. “It’s - it’s the past now, my love. Let’s move forward. I only want to think about the future. I want you to promise me that we only think about the future from now on.” You murmur, sliding your hand down to caress his cheek, tracing the scar on his skin, and your eyes flick up to his. His eyes meet yours and you slowly lean in to softly press your lips to his.

It’s the most gentle kiss Ezra has had since the last one he shared with you. Unable to kiss anyone else with the same tenderness, he melts at the small amount of pressure and slowly tilts his head to deepen it, wanting more of you almost immediately.

You deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue against his lower lip and he grants you access, making you moan into his mouth. He groans softly and his hand cups the back of your head as you kiss him.

Just this one kiss has Ezra aching for you. Already starting to harden in his boxers despite it being the first erection since being injured on the Green. Wishing that he had both of his arms to hold you with.

You feel how eager he is for you, pressing against your hip, and you can't pull back. If you were sensible, you'd pull away and take a moment to process but it's been years since you were with your husband and all you want is to hear him moan again. You throw your leg over his hip, grinding against him, getting wetter in your sleep shorts with each kiss he presses to your lips.

“Fuck.” Ezra hisses into your mouth, bucking his hips up as you grind down. You are so sexy, so perfect and all he can think about is how long it has been since he has tasted you. “I-“ he pulls away from your lips and starts to kiss down your throat. “Let me apologize to you with the skill of my tongue.” He begs you. “I cannot do everything I used to, but my face will make a divine perch for your wonderfully little cunt.”

You gasp against his hair as he kisses your neck. "Kevva, Ez. I don't want to hurt you." You murmur and he pulls back, shaking his head. "Little bird, you could never hurt me enough to pay for the agony I caused you." He declares and you hesitate for a second before you nod. You shift back and sit up, removing your tank top to expose your tits to his hungry gaze. Your shorts are next and you are soon straddling Ezra's chest. "Tell me if I am hurting you." You demand, lifting your hips and shuffling forward until you hover over his face.

He won’t breathe a word about it, never. Not when he has caused you so much strife. But your thighs are away from his arms and you don’t touch the remaining portion of his right arm, so Ezra is fine. Especially when he can gaze on your cunt like a long denied treat. “Kevva, you smell the same.” He groans, inhaling your scent. “All my favorite meals are available for me to dine on tonight.” He huffs proudly before lunging forward to slide his tongue between your lips.

Your hips lower a little more to allow him better access to your pussy and your hands find security on the headboard. His name a breathless moan from your lips as he eats you like a man who was starving for weeks. Perhaps that is accurate, he was starved on the Green. Of affection. Of a home. Of real food. "Fuck." You pant, rocking down onto his face as you relax into the pleasure.

Your moans are urging him on. Recalling your taste and gorging himself on it, on your sounds as he licks and sucks on the tender little clit that has always been so sensitive for him. His cock throbs but he would die a happy man, right here with his tongue buried in your cunt and your moans echoing in his ears.

You moan, rocking a little harder, and when he sucks on your clit, you’re gone. You shake above him, moaning his name as you cum on his chin and soak his skin. “Oh fuck, baby.” You choke, your body stiffening as he works you through it until you have to lift off of his face.

His jaw, mouth and lower face is covered in your slick and he grunts in protest when you pull away. Knowing that he could have spent hours just like that while you drowned him in your cum. “So good, little bird.” He rasps out. “Missed that beautiful liquid honey that pours out of your cunt.”

You straddle his belly, slick sliding against his skin, and you bend down to kiss him, uncaring of the tang of your orgasm on his lips as you slide his tongue into your mouth. "I want to ride you, Ez." You murmur, nipping his chin. 

"The day I deny you that is surely the day that Kevva comes to claim my blackened soul." He declares and you shift to sit up, shuffling back until you are hovering over him. Your eyes meet his as you grip his cock and slowly sink down onto him after positioning him at your dripping pussy. Ezra hisses in pleasure, his entire body lighting up at the glorious feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock again. It doesn’t matter who he’s fucked, no one has ever compared to you. Moaning your name, his fingers dig into your hips as you settle down on his cock. “You are just as tight as the time I stole your innocence.” He groans in delight. “I love you.” He murmurs your name again, his eyes dark and fixed on yours. “Only you. Forever.”

You moan, caressing his chest, the scars of battles fought without you. You sigh and start to move once you adjust to him inside of you. He stretches you out, he always would stretch you out even with foreplay, and you love the slight pinch. Moaning his name, you rock on top of him, your palms on his chest and you feel his heart pounding under your touch.

You look like an angel above him. Ezra can’t even tear his gaze away from you and he uses his one hand to caress up and down your side. “My beautiful angel.” He chokes out. “Kevva sent.”

You smile down at him, reaching for his hand as you move your hips and you press your lips to his knuckles, wanting him to feel just as worshiped. You rock slow but deep, moving your hips enough to make him push deeper inside of you with each motion. “Kevva sent you back to me. You’ve been punished enough, my love. I want us to look forward to a bright future together. Whatever it holds.”

Ezra groans, nodding breathlessly as he watches you move. Completely entranced and just as in love with you as he had been so many years ago. “I love you. I love you so much, little bird.”

You nod, squeezing his hand as you move on top of him. You are getting closer, your walls fluttering around his cock, and you bring his hand down your body to your clit, pressing his thumb there. He gets the hint, rubbing your clit a little faster as you rock on top of him. “Fuck baby.” You moan, reaching out to grip the headboard, your tits swaying as you ride him. “Oh oh ohhhhh Ez.” You pant, clamping down on his cock as you fall apart around his cock.

He groans, loving how tight you are and how you are soaking him every time your walls contract. “Baby, my love.” He whispers, watching you in awe and appreciating how gorgeous you are. “Are you- your implant?” He gasps, dangerously close to cumming but he wants to make sure you are safe.

“I got a new one. It’s safe.” You pant out, letting go of the headboard and you cup his cheeks, leaning in to kiss him as you start to move again. Rocking back onto him, you moan into his mouth, “cum for me.”

He doesn’t try to rock up into you, letting you set the pace to make him cum. Enjoying the way that you are working his cock, milking it as you ride him. “I- fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Ezra groans. “Gonna fill you up. Paint my favorite canvas of your womb.”

You moan at his words, always waxing poetry in the filthiest way. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, struggling to keep working yourself on his cock, your thighs aching, but you want to watch his face when he fills you up. His brow furrows, his lips parting until he lets out a groan, cock twitching inside of you as he fills your womb just like he promised.

Ezra shudders, his hips jerking up and his eyes flutter and roll back in his head. Riding out the best fucking orgasm he’s had in years, since you, with another filthy groan of your name. Until he’s completely spent, pouring himself into you.

You smile against his chin, breathing him in and he relaxes beneath you. You’re reunited with your husband after so many years of loving and hating him. You caress his cheek and his arm comes up to slide along your spine. “Still the most magnificent pussy in the fucking galaxy.” He murmurs and you giggle, kissing him softly, “and all yours.”

****

You stare out of the window at the suns, glowing above as you finish stirring the sauce for Ezra’s favorite meal. “Mama! How long until dinner?” Your son asks, his small patch of blonde hair just like his father. 

“Not long, baby. Go wash your hands. Tell Cee to clean up too.” You order and your five year old rushes off to tell his “sister” to get ready for dinner. 

“Mmm, is that my favorite?” You feel an arm wrap around your waist. Your husband kisses along your neck and you tilt your head to allow him more access. His glasses dig into your skin but you don’t care, turning your head to press your lips to his. 

“It is. Wanted to celebrate our wedding anniversary. All those years ago and the shit we went through and here we are.” You smile and Ezra caresses your round stomach. 

“Another baby on the way. Cee is about to head out on her own. We did good, little bird.” He murmurs, his eyes full of adoration. 

“We did. We got off that damn planet and we made it in the end.” You hum, placing your hand on top of his. 

“We made it.” Ezra repeats softly, kissing your head as he looks out of the window to a bright blue sky and clean air.

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part Seven: The Hotel Encounter

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Wednesday came around quicker than you thought, eight o'clock rolled around, and you found yourself standing outside the Westin Hotel lobby like a lost puppy. The hotel's grandeur and sophistication overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but compare its opulence to the dimly lit jazz club where you first laid eyes on Cillian.

You squared your shoulders, trying to summon some confidence. Taking a deep breath, you crossed the threshold into the marble-floored lobby. The scent of expensive perfume and designer cologne hung heavily in the air, and you could hear soft classical music playing somewhere in the background.

The sound of hushed conversations and the occasional click of heels on marble floors filled the space. You scanned the crowd, searching for Cillian. When you caught sight of him, your heart skipped a beat.

"Hey," Cillian greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down your spine. "You made it," he added, gesturing towards a secluded table tucked away in the corner. "Shall we sit?" he asked, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from him.

The familiar warmth spread through your chest, and your palms grew slick with perspiration. Leading you to the table, Cillian pulled out a chair for you. Once seated, you could feel his gaze boring into you, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your heart thumped erratically, and your mind raced with a jumble of memories and desires. .

"So," you said, shifting in your seat after sitting down at the quiet table in the corner, "How is Max doing? He is back at home now, isn't he?"

Cillian's eyes held a faraway look, his lips quirking upward ever so slightly. "He is and he is doing well, considering the circumstances," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "He has lost his license, and his car insurance won't cover the damages to the car, but he's alive, thank God."

"I know. I am glad," you spoke nervously before you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable question.

"So, what did you want to discuss with me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady and, immediately, guilt began to form in Cillian's mind. 

"To tell you the truth, I don't really know. After seeing you again at the hospital, I..." Cillian began to trail off, stammering nervously. "I just wanted to see you," Cillian confessed, his voice barely audible. "So that I could apologize and explain myself, to tell you that what happened between us was...," he added before trailing off again. 

He looked down for a moment and then continued, his voice wavering slightly. "I really fucked up Y/N, but I cannot stop thinking about you," he told you before he wiped his brow with his sleeve, looking genuinely concerned. "I know that what happened between us was a mistake. It was fucking wrong because I cheated on my wife with you, but I just can't seem to shake you off my mind," Cillian admitted, his gaze locked on you, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Cillian, I--" you started, your voice catching in your throat. "We both know it was wrong," you managed to say, your heart pounding hard enough to rattle your ribcage. "And I don't know what to say other than that I am sorry for putting you into this situation. I should not have pursued you," you added, wringing your hands nervously, thinking about the fact that he was married and that you used to date his son. This was all so complicated, so messed up, and whilst you craved him, you knew that this wouldn't lead to anything prosperous. 

"Y/N, you didn't put me into this situation," Cillian countered, taking a deep breath. "I did this myself and, if I remember correctly, I was the one who pursued you, not the other way around," he confessed before he darted his eyes downwards for a brief moment, looking ashamed. "I should not have done it," he mumbled, shaking his head, "but I cannot help but wonder what it would be like if we got to spend some more time together," he then gazed at you intently, his expression serious and determined.

"Cillian," you whispered, shaking your head. "This is insane," you told him before you tried to stand up from your seat only to be halted by Cillian laying his arm across the back of your chair.

"Please, just listen to me," he implored you, his voice hoarse and strained from desperation. "I realize that we shouldn't be having this conversation, but I simply cannot help it. Every time I think about you, I want more. It's like a fucking addiction," Cillian confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We can't do this," you reminded him, averting your gaze, afraid of the depths of desire reflected in his eyes. "You're married," you pointed out bluntly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "And I dated your son," you added, the guilt gnawing at your gut.

"I know," Cillian groaned, his frustration evident in each tortured syllable. "But tell me that you don't want this too," he urged, causing you to pause, your heart racing madly in your chest.

Torn between reason and desire, you studied Cillian's handsome face, tracing the lines of his chiseled features with your gaze. His eyes were pleading, beseeching you to give in to the forbidden attraction that simmered between you just as the waiter came by, finally wanting to take your order.

"What can I get you?" the young man asked, flashing a dazzling smile at you both. You and Cillian exchanged awkward glances before you quickly looked away, focusing on the menu instead.

"A bottle of Bordeaux, but can we have it brought up to the room please?" you nervously said to the waiter before Cillian could respond to his question and your request left him baffled. 

"Of course. What is your room number, ma'am," the waiter asked politely, glancing between you and Cillian curiously.

 "It's 309," Cillian answered, his voice low and gruff as you stood up and reached for your bag with fidgeting hands. 

"What are you doing?" Cillian asked, his voice husky as he watched you stand up.

"Going to your room," you answered him matter-of-factly. You felt nervous, the excitement coursing through your veins like a drug.  "Isn't that what you wanted?" you whispered, turning to face Cillian. The air between you vibrated with pent-up energy, like a storm brewing under the calm surface of a lake. You could practically feel the electric charge between you, and it pushed you forward. 

Cillian nodded nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat like a tiny pulse. "Yes," he whispered, and you couldn't help but blush. 

"Good, then lets go before my conscience kicks in and guilt gets the better of me," you mumbled before Cillian stood up as well and followed you toward the elevators.

Once the elevator doors closed, Cillian let out a sigh of relief, and you pressed the button for the third floor.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair away from your face.

His touch was warm and gentle, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. 

You searched his gaze, finding comfort in the vulnerability etched into his expressive eyes. "Yes," you replied, your voice soft and certain, before you allowed your fingertips to graze his cheek affectionately.

"I am sure about this," you assured him, your eyes never straying from his mesmerizing gaze before, eventually, the elevator doors slid open with a soft whir, and you stepped out onto the third floor with Cillian hot on your heels.

You adjusted your dress nervously, smoothing down the fabric and glancing around the hall, making sure no one was watching you two. The dim lighting masked your expressions as you moved towards the indicated room number, your heart beating like a war drum in your chest.

Cillian pulled his key card from his jeans pocket, swiping it along the slot and hearing the soft mechanical click signaling the door had unlocked. He turned the handle delicately, leading you both inside the darkened room.

"Let me turn on the lights," he suggested, fumbling around the wall switch before the soft glow flooded the room, bathing you both in a comforting warmth.

Your nerves skyrocketed as you saw the plush king-sized bed situated right in front of you, and your heart fluttered in anticipation.

Cillian guided you gently towards the center of the room, his grip tightening around your hand subtly as if urging you closer. Your skin prickled from the tension between you both, creating a magnetic pull that neither of you could ignore. You peered up at him, finding solace in his blue eyes which mirrored the uncertainty that danced within your own and, not long after that, your lips finally collided. 

The kiss was passionate yet gentle, a dance of tongues and teeth, your bodies pressing closer and closer, almost losing balance.

Despite the lingering guilt clouding your mind, the thrill of his presence ignited a fire within you—a flame that refused to be extinguished.

Cillian's hands roamed over your body, exploring curves and valleys, moving to unbutton your dress with trembling fingers. You could sense the urgency in his movements, the raw desire simmering just below the surface.

With trembling hands, Cillian untied the string holding your dress together, exposing your black lace bra and panties, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your breath hitched as you watched him gaze hungrily at your exposed flesh, his eyes dark with lust.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion before he pressed his lips against your neck, kissing and sucking gently, leaving red marks that stung pleasantly. You moaned softly, arching your back as his hands moved lower, cupping your ass and pulling you closer as, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Room Service," a male voice called out from beyond the entrance, causing Cillian to freeze mid-kiss.

"Ignore it," you muttered, clutching Cillian tightly, unwilling to break the spell that had enveloped you both.

"I can't," Cillian replied, releasing you gently before walking towards the door with his face covered in your lipstick. "It was you who ordered the wine," he then chuckled before he opened the door just a crack, whispering something quietly to the room service attendant waiting on the other side. There was a brief exchange of words before the sound of heavy footsteps fading away echoed through the room.

"Thank you," Cillian murmured, closing the door firmly behind him and placing the bottle of Bordeaux you had ordered minutes earlier on the desk besides the door.

He turned to face you, a crooked grin playing on his lips when he saw that you had taken off your bra and were waiting for him on top of the bed.

"Looks like I am not the only one in a hurry," he joked before pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing his lean torso. His chest was covered in freckles and featured a small patch of chest-hair, both of which was something you considered particularly attractive. 

He then went to unbuckle his belt, slowly sliding his pants down, revealing his CK briefs, already straining against his growing erection.

"I can't wait to feel you inside me again," you whispered as desire pooled inside of you like molten lava threatening to erupt, consuming every rational thought.

Cillian smiled seductively, stepping out of his clothing completely, leaving him naked and gloriously erect before you.

You swallowed dryly, your mouth feeling parched as you admired his sculpted physique. He was perfection embodied, and your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you ran your eyes all over his gorgeous form.

"You are so hard already," you purred, reaching out to touch the throbbing bulge nestled snugly between his legs.

Cillian groaned, his breathing labored as he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from proceeding.

"Not yet," he growled, his voice laced with raw lust.

"I want to taste you first," he added, stepping closer to the bed with a predatory glint in his eye. "Making you cum with my mouth is what I have been dreaming about every fucking night," he then told you and you bit your lip, feeling an unfamiliar wave of excitement wash over you.

"Really?" you mused, your voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Because I was thinking that maybe it would be more fun if I get to taste you again first," you teased, a mischievous spark dancing in your eyes.

"Oh, I'm definitely going to enjoy that," Cillian groaned, his cock twitching eagerly in response as he prowled towards the bed like a predator zeroing in on its prey. "But ladies first," he asserted before pinning you down beneath him. "I want to hear you come undone," he asserted and you did not dare to argue. 

"Alright, if you insist," you moaned as Cillian skillfully removed your panties with a single tug, leaving you bare and vulnerable.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your inner thigh softly causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine. He traced kisses down your leg, slowly working his way towards your core.

"You smell so fucking good," he commented before he took a moment to appreciate your wetness visibly staining the sheets underneath you.

"You're soaked," he noted appreciatively, and your heart raced at the sheer pleasure he derived from your arousal.

Cillian kissed and caressed your inner thighs, his hot breath teasing your sensitive skin.

"Fuck," you whimpered, squirming beneath him as he lowered his head, his lips hovering inches above your quivering mound. You could feel his warm breath on your moist flesh, raising goosebumps on your skin.

Your breath quickened, a wave of anticipation washing over you like a tidal surge.

"Tell me how much you want it," he commanded, leaning forward, his eyes smoldering with passion.

"I want it so much!" you cried out, bucking your hips in anticipation. Cillian's eyes gleamed with triumph as he parted your folds gently, revealing your swollen clit, pulsating with need. He licked his lips, savoring the sweet aroma emanating from your sex.

"Please!" you then begged, your voice cracking with desperation. "Just touch me, taste me, make me cum!"

Cillian grinned wickedly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation before lowering his lips ever so slightly.

You moaned loudly, thrashing your head from side to side, desperate for release. Your pussy throbbed, yearning for attention, and you arched your back, offering up your slick slit to Cillian who, finally obliged. 

His tongue darted out, flicking your engorged nub lightly before diving in, delving deeper into your wet depths. You moaned loudly, grinding your hips into his face eagerly as he explored your folds with fervent abandon.

"Fuck yes," you screamed, your voice echoing off the walls of the luxurious bedroom. "That feels so good!" you moaned before running your hands through his hair. 

"So fucking good," you whispered, panting heavily as Cillian continued to lap at your slick folds with a feverish hunger. His tongue swirled around your clit, teasing you mercilessly before plunging back inside your dripping pussy. Your entire body convulsed with pleasure, and you bucked wildly beneath him, desperately seeking release.

"Oh god, I'm going to cum!" you screamed, your voice hoarse with ecstasy. Cillian's ears perked up at your cry, and he began to lick faster, harder, his tongue stabbing into your wet hole relentlessly.

You clawed at the sheets, screaming obscenities, begging for the pressure to continue.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, yes!" you hollered, as the waves of pleasure built inside you, threatening to break any second now.

Cillian latched onto your clit, sucking it hard between his lips, making you scream louder.

You grabbed fistfuls of the silken duvet, nails digging into the material as intense spasms rocked your core.

"Cillian, fuck!" you screamed, the words escaping in ragged gasps.

Cillian groaned, lapping up your juices greedily, reveling in your cries, his cock throbbing painfully against his briefs. He loved seeing you lose control, watching your body surrender to the overwhelming sensations sweeping through you as, finally, your orgasm hit you. 

You shook violently, clinging onto reality as everything around you faded, leaving only the sensation of euphoria, a blissful void that swept you higher and higher until you exploded.

Cillian released your clit, swallowing your juices with relish, enjoying the taste of your desire. He rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes burning with satisfaction.

"That was quick," he remarked, a smirk curling his lips. "I didn't expect you to cum so fast," he admitted and, seeing that you were much younger and inexperienced than him, this was a huge turn on for you both.

You exhaled sharply, still reeling from the explosive climax you had just experienced.

"Well, you clearly got some skills in that department, Mr Murphy," you teased, playfully running your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Cillian chuckled, his eyes shining with pride. "So I've been told," he mused, stroking your damp thigh tenderly before you pushed him beneath you as, slowly, but surely, you came down from your high. 

"I suppose it is my turn to pleasure you now sir," you declared, crawling towards him with a sultry smile on your face before reaching for the hem of his briefs. "And I want to suck you so good that you beg me for mercy," you whispered softly into his ear, your hot breath tickling his neck.

Cillian groaned, gripping the edge of the mattress as you slowly pulled down his underwear, revealing his impressive, fully erect length.

"Oh god Cills," you cooed, reaching out to stroke him gently. "You are so hard for me, and dripping already," you moaned with approval as Cillian's eyes widened with anticipation, his cock twitching eagerly in your grasp.

"Please," he whispered weakly, his voice cracking with desire. 

"Please what?" you asked coyly, stroking Cillian's cock gently with your thumb.

The head of his shaft was shiny with pre-cum, reflecting the light in the dimly lit room. "Tell me what you want, Cillian," you added, biting your lip suggestively.

Cillian swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. "I want you to take me into your mouth," he uttered, his voice breaking. "Please," he then begged again and you smiled, nodding your head slowly.

"I'm going to enjoy this," you said, licking your lips hungrily before leaning down to lick the pre-cum of his slit.

The taste of him made your head spin, and you moaned softly, slurping his tip gently. "God, you taste so good," you whispered, squeezing his balls gently, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Cillian before you used your mouth to fully engulf him. 

Swallowing him whole, you sucked him hard, moaning around his cock as you worked your tongue around his head, swirling it in circles.

"Oh fuck," Cillian groaned, thrusting upwards into your mouth, desperate for more.

Your mouth bobbed up and down, the saliva lubricating your movements and making sloppy sounds that filled the quiet room.

"Y/N," Cillian whimpered, grabbing at your hair, his fingers tangling in your locks. "Slow down," he pleaded, his voice strained and broken.

He reached for your hair, attempting to guide your rhythm. Yet, you remained stubborn, continuing to suck him hard, knowing full well that he would soon lose control. 

You heard him moan, felt his cock pulsing, and smelled the scent of his arousal, all signs that he was close to the edge.

"Y/N," Cillian gasped, his voice hoarse and desperate. "I'm close," he groaned, and you didn't answer him - you didn't even look up, instead choosing to increase the suction and speed, eager to drain him completely.

The sound of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth became deafening, like a heartbeat filling the room. He was close now, his cock swelling in your mouth, and he started to thrust into you harder until, abruptly, he stopped.

"Stop," he breathed out, sounding surprised and relieved. "I can't take anymore of this," he gasped after ten minutes of your onslaught before you reluctantly released him, licking your lips, tasting the saltiness of his precum mixed with your saliva.

"The first time I cum tonight needs to be inside you. I am begging you," he panted, pulling you closer, your breasts mashed against his chest. You could hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest, matching yours.

"You are begging me, huh?" you teased, nibbling on his earlobe softly. "I love it when you beg," you whispered, licking his neck sensually. "Especially coming from you, this is such a turn on," you told him just before Cillian groaned deeply, his muscles stiffening beneath you.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," he grunted, his erection throbbing against your belly. "But yes, I'm begging you, Y/N. Please, let me cum inside you," he rasped, his voice husky with longing.

"Why do you want to cum inside me?" you asked Cillian, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it is so fucking intimate," Cillian sighed, his voice rough and raw with desire. "Feeling you contract around me, as I spill myself deep inside you," he admitted, his tone earnest and sincere.

"Also, it is somewhat taboo," he whispered, his breath fanning across your neck as he held you tight. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to explode. "Which is exactly why I want it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. 

"Me too," you agreed, your voice soft and sultry. "I want to feel you fill me up with your cum," you confessed, your words slipping past your lips like silk. "And then, when I go to my lectures tomorrow, I want to feel it leaking out of me little by little, reminding me of our encounter each time I walk," you teased, causing Cillian to groan loudly. 

"Don't say it like that or I won't last much longer," he chuckled, squeezing your hips tighter as you kissed him passionately while, at the same time, climbing atop of him and aligning his hardness with your wetness. 

"Okay, no talking then," you giggled, sitting on his lap and positioning yourself over his member. "Just moaning," you teased, taking a deep breath and lowering yourself on him inch by excruciating inch.

"Shit," Cillian gasped, throwing his head back and grabbing onto the pillows as you impaled yourself on his cock, feeling the head of his penis stretch you wide open before sliding inside, deeper and deeper.

"Oh god," you moaned, rocking your hips slowly as you sank down further, taking his entire length inside you.

"You feel so good," Cillian groaned, reaching up to massage your breasts gently, his thumbs circling your nipples. "So fucking tight," he added, his voice husky with lust as you started to ride him.

You both knew that you wouldn't last long; the atmosphere in the room was thick with anticipation, and your bodies ached for one another.

As you moved on top of him, your pelvis grinding against his, the friction was enough to send you both spiraling into oblivion.

"Harder," Cillian urged, reaching down to squeeze your ass cheeks, encouraging you to bounce on him.

You did as instructed, moving with reckless abandon, lost in the heat of the moment.

Each thrust sent shockwaves coursing through your body, intensifying the feelings building inside you. Cillian's hands gripped your hips tightly, urging you on, helping you reach new heights of pleasure.

"Fuck, you are so tight around my cock," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust as you rode him and those words struck a chord deep within you, setting your blood ablaze. You moaned loudly, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you moved on top of him with renewed vigor.

Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and you bit your lip, trying to contain the screams building in your throat.

"So good," Cillian encouraged, his hands roaming all over your body, tracing patterns on your skin. "So fucking good," he groaned, his voice low and guttural.

You threw your head back, letting out a primal scream as you slammed yourself down on him, harder and faster than ever before until Cillian felt the need to slow things down.

Abruptly, he maneuvered you beneath him, taking control as he moved into a missionary position. 

With each deliberate entry, he gazed into your eyes, a mixture of lust and admiration evident in his expression. His gaze was steady, unwavering, like a man drowning in the ocean of your passion.

"How does it feel?" he asked "Does it feel good?" he questioned and you nodded, unable to speak.

The words caught in your throat, choking you in their intensity. 

You wanted to tell him how wonderful it felt, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, you simply nodded, eyes locked on his face.

Cillian watched you intently, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a sly grin. "Good," he said, his voice husky with lust. 

He slid his hands under your thighs, guiding them to rest on his shoulders. "Lift up," he instructed, his voice firm but gentle. You obeyed without hesitation, your heart pounding in your chest.

The room seemed to shrink around you, trapping your thoughts in a suffocating loop of lust and anticipation. Each thrust sent ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, and you couldn't help but let out a low moan of approval.

"Yes," Cillian hissed, his eyes locked on yours. "Like that."

He pumped into you steadily, his grip tightening around your hips. With each powerful thrust, he pushed himself deeper inside you, driving you closer to the brink.

"I'm close," you managed to utter through clenched teeth as he thrusted into you with slow but steady thrusts. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

"I know," Cillian responded, his voice hushed yet intense. "Let go for me. Give in," he coaxed, his tone soothing yet commanding.

And with those words, the dam broke. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, crashing into you with such force that it left you gasping for air. You cried out, your voice echoing in the silent room, as your body convulsed around Cillian's cock.

The intensity of your orgasm overwhelmed you, stealing your breath and clouding your vision.

"I'm going to cum," Cillian gasped, his voice strained and desperate. "Can you feel it?" he asked, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You nodded, biting your lip to stop the screams from escaping. The feeling of him throbbing inside you was indescribable and, just like that, with a low groan, he came undone.

"Fuck," he cursed, his eyes shut fiercely as he emptied himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each release.

His entire body shuddered, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he struggled to catch his breath.

You could feel his warmth seeping into you, his essence mixing with your own. His weight pressed down on you, cocooning you between the soft sheets.

Your heart thumped madly, the echoes blending together, creating a symphony of chaos within your chest. You stared back at him, your gaze transfixed upon his beautiful face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the concern in his voice palpable.

"Yeah," you replied, the word scarcely audible to even your own ears. "I'm fine. Just...amazing," you added, your voice shaking.

He looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Good," he then said, his voice hushed yet intense. "Although, don't think that we are done here yet," he told you while easing himself out of you gently, causing you to moan once more. 

"So, you want me to stay the night then?" you asked Cillian, breaking the tranquil silence enveloping the entire room.

His eyes locked onto yours, a smoldering ember flickering in their depths, before nodding slowly.

"Only if you want to," he replied, his voice laced with uncertainty despite conveying an offer you knew he really wanted you to accept. 

"I would love to," you responded nonchalantly, giving him a peck on the cheek before sitting up carefully, maneuvering away from the mess beneath you and it was in that moment that Cillian's cellphone rang. 

The ringtone echoed through the room, jarring him from your afterglow as he reached for his phone lying on the bedside table.

Seeing the name "Danielle" come up on the screen, you knew that this was his wife calling him and, immediately, he paused, looking at you with pleading eyes for a few seconds before answering the call.

"Hey," he spoke calmly into the receiver, his voice betraying none of the events that had transpired earlier between you. "What's up?" he wanted to know and, much to your surprise, she appeared angry and, even though she wasn't on speaker, you could hear the entire conversation between them simply due to the loudness of her voice.

"How dare you treat your son like that, Cillian!" Danielle screeched into the phone, her voice trembling with anger. 

"Treat him like what? What the fuck are you talking about?" Cillian asked calmly, the confusion apparent in his voice.

"Max just told me that you wouldn't get him a lawyer, nor would you be paying to get his car fixed," Danielle spat out, her voice cold and unforgiving. "You basically disowned him because of that accident and, if you ask me, that's not fair, Cillian!" she shouted.

Cillian sighed into the phone, his shoulders dropping slightly as he tried to calm himself down.

"Look, Danny," he began hesitantly, trying to explain his side of the situation. "Max knows what he did. He fucked up and he will have to deal with the consequences of his mistake," he insisted firmly. "He is an adult and can take responsibility for his actions," Cillian argued defensively.

"So, you're actually sticking to this bullshit line?" Danielle snapped back incredulously. "He's your son, Cillian. It's your duty to support him through tough times like these," she stated bluntly.

"I know that he is my son," Cillian sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "And as his father it is my responsibility to ensure that he grows up to be a decent human being, which won't happen by spoiling him and fixing his mistakes," he explained patiently.

Danielle snorted derisively, her voice laced with sarcasm. "And what makes you think that you're doing a good job at that?" she challenged him. "You are never fucking home. You much rather hang out with your females co-stars than your family," Danielle accused him harshly.

"Here we go again," Cillian muttered irritably under his breath, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"We've talked about this countless times," he reasoned calmly. "My work requires me to spend long hours on set and travel to promote the films," he reminded her. "And I don't choose to socialize with the actresses I work with," he added pointedly.

"You sure act like it sometimes," Danielle retorted sharply. "Remember the last scandal surrounding you and Florence Pugh?" she reminded him. "It was plastered all over the media and gossip magazines," Danielle hissed, referring to the infamous red carpet event where Cillian was rumored to have left with Florence following some flirtatious banter. 

"For the millionth time, I did not cheat on you with Florence Pugh," Cillian insisted, his temper flaring up. "She is my colleague. We were merely having a chat and people jumped to conclusions," he clarified vehemently. "Now, I am going to hang up the phone and we will discuss this later," he decided, feeling tired arguing with Danielle over something that wasn't true.

"Suit yourself," Danielle shot back coldly, slamming the phone down, cutting off Cillian mid-sentence.

The abrupt end to the conversation left Cillian feeling defeated and frustrated but, most importantly, confused about how to react towards Danielle.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to you quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. 

"It's fine. I should probably go," you said, standing up from the bed and beginning to gather your clothes strewn across the floor. You were trying to process the sudden shift in mood, and the tension created by listening to Cillian's heated discussion with his wife.

"No, wait," Cillian said, reaching out to touch your arm. "I would like you to stay," he admitted, his eyes pleading.

You hesitated, glancing at the phone still resting on the bedside table. "Are you sure about that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes, I am sure," Cillian responded quietly and you studied him closely, trying to gauge whether he truly wanted you to stay or if he was simply being polite.

After a moment of contemplation, you shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright," you agreed, tossing your dress back onto the chair.

"But I hope you know what you are getting yourself into," you warned Cillian, walking back over to the bed and sitting down beside him, wearing only your panties.

"I do," Cillian assured you, his eyes shining with resolve. "And I want you to know that you won't regret staying," he promised, his voice soft and warm.

You arched an eyebrow in amusement, noticing the change in his demeanor compared to moments ago. "So, what's the plan then?" you asked, curious to see how he would handle the situation.

"Well, we could start by ordering room service," Cillian suggested, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "I am starving," he admitted, his stomach growling in agreement.

"That sounds perfect," you responded enthusiastically, picking up the menu card on the bedside table.

Cillian picked up the phone and dialed room service, requesting a cheese platter, fruit bowl, and some other snacks. Once he hung up the phone, he turned back to you and smiled.

"They said it would be about 45 minutes," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Would you like to have a bath?" he asked, eyeing you seductively.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at the bathroom door before smiling back at him. "Together?" you asked, causing him to nod. 

"Yes," you agreed, slipping off your panties and leaving them on the floor. Cillian followed suit, leaving his boxers discarded on the ground.

Entering the bathroom together, you marveled at the size of the tub. It could easily fit two people comfortably and you lost no time in turning on the faucet and adding bubbles for a relaxing soak. 

Climbing into the water first, you gestured for Cillian to join you. The water was warm and inviting, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You watched as Cillian stepped in behind you, his knees brushing against your legs.

He reached for a bottle of bath oil and poured a generous amount into the water, creating a delightful aroma that filled the air.

"God I wish I had a tub like this," you mused aloud, enjoying the sensation of floating effortlessly in the water.

"Well, maybe someday," Cillian replied, running his hands along your arm, his fingertips grazing your skin lightly.

"Maybe," you agreed, smiling wistfully. "For now I have to make do with a dorm room and group shower facilities," you chuckled, playfully splashing the water at Cillian.

He laughed and splashed you back before pulling you in for a kiss. It was a brief reprieve from the heaviness of the conversation he had shared with his wife earlier - and, somehow, it made everything else seem easier to bear.

You and Cillian spent a comfortable thirty minutes in the bathtub, chatting about music, dreams, and aspirations. You shared stories from your life on campus and how you navigated yourself through medical school while Cillian interjected with comments and questions, one which caught you off guard.

"If you don't mind me asking," he began hesitantly, "why did you break up with Max?" he asked, bringing up a subject you hadn't expected. You took a deep breath in, considering your response. "I mean, you were together for a while," he prodded gently, not wanting to upset you.

"I...," you stammered, staring down at the water, feeling the awkwardness creeping up on you.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have asked. You don't need to answer that," Cillian quickly countered sympathetically, his fingers tracing circles on your shoulder.

"We were at and still are at different stages of our lives," you explained thoughtfully, avoiding his gaze. "So, our paths simply diverged I suppose and this led me to break up with him," you told Cillian, watching his reaction.

"I understand," he nodded, appearing thoughtful. "Sometimes life takes us on different roads, regardless of how much we may wish otherwise," he offered reassuringly and you couldn't help but state the obvious.

"On a road where I am sleeping with my ex-boyfriend's father?" you joked, half-seriously and half-nervous. Cillian chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the edges with amusement. "I guess so," he replied, reaching out to trace a line down your arm. "Who would've thought, eh?" he then murmured as he was feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

"Not me, definitely not me," you confessed, allowing a nervous laugh to escape before you asked Cillian an equally important question.

"I am curious though," you began cautiously, "Do you still love your wife?"

You swallowed hard, knowing that this was a sensitive topic and that his response might lead to an unexpected turn of events.

"No," he answered swiftly. "And if I would, then you wouldn't be here right now," Cillian answered with a subtle hint of sadness in his voice. "Our relationship has been complicated for a long time," he revealed honestly, reaching out to stroke your damp hair affectionately. "There have been arguments, misunderstandings, and many sleepless nights spent fighting to maintain our connection," he continued. "I suppose, somewhere along the way, we stopped loving each other," he concluded, his voice cracking slightly.

"Then why don't you divorce her? I mean, Max is an adult now and he would understand, right?" you ventured tentatively, still unsure of how Cillian would respond to your query.

"Because I haven't found the courage to do so," Cillian confessed frankly, his voice quivering slightly. "I always thought that, maybe, what is broken can be mended," he added sadly, running a hand through his wet hair. "But what we have become..." he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Her jealousy caused most of our problems over time and, for the past ten years, she continuously accused me of cheating on her," Cillian sighed deeply, sinking further into the water. 

"But you didn't?" you pressed, your curiosity piqued, and Cillian shook his head slowly.

"Not once," he insisted adamantly. "At least not until now," he corrected himself, his gaze lingering on you. "And you know what the worst part of this is?" he asked rhetorically, his voice trailing off. "I don't even feel that guilty now, for being with you," he confessed, leaning closer. "It feels wrong, yet so damn right," he murmured, pressing his lips against your neck.

You pulled him closer, feeling the electricity between you surge through your veins. "You're not alone there," you whispered, your voice catching in your throat. "Like I said earlier, I never thought I'd be in this situation with my ex-boyfriend's dad," you admitted, a hint of laughter in your voice.

Cillian smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I guess we're both pretty messed up, huh?" he teased, reaching out to pull you closer. Without hesitation, you nestled your head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his embrace just as there was yet another knock on the door.

"Room service," announced a voice from outside, and Cillian reluctantly released you, wrapping a towel around his waist before stepping out of the tub to answer the door.

As soon as he returned, tray in hand, you wasted no time in grabbing a slice of cheese and nibbling on it. 

"This is delicious," you then remarked appreciatively before climbing back on to the bed with a fluffy towel wrapped around your body. 

"I'm glad you approve," Cillian grinned, offering you a piece of bread before suggesting for you to spend the next few days with him, right here at the hotel. 

You considered his offer, the idea appealing to you.

"Well, I have lectures in the morning and then I was meant to go to the movies with my friends, so...," you started to say but Cillian cut you off.

"What movie are you going to see?" Cillian asked casually, taking a bite of the apple he held in his hand. You bit into your cracker, chewing thoughtfully before responding.

"Oppenheimer," you admitted while blushing slightly and your answer caused Cillian to furrow his eyebrows. 

"That movie is totally overrated, you know," he then teased with a mischievous grin, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, I guess I was really just going to see it because of that hot guy who happens to play that dude who built that bomb back during the war and...," you began to joke just as Cillian started to tackle you in the most seductive way possible, pinning you beneath him playfully. 

"Uh, I see," he laughed, placing a playful kiss on your neck which, immediately, elicited a moan from you. "So, you are only interested in seeing the movie because I am in it...," he taunted, his voice husky and intoxicating.

"No," you giggled, swatting Cillian playfully. "I mean, it was a selling point, but it wasn't the only reason I wanted to see it," you explained, causing Cillian to chuckle.

"Relax, I'm only teasing," he assured you, his eyes gleaming mischievously before he kissed your neck tenderly.

"So, you really want me to stay?" you checked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Yes, incredibly so," Cillian replied sincerely, stroking your cheek softly.

"You're sure that you won't regret it?" you questioned, hesitant despite the electric chemistry between you.

"Absolutely not," Cillian confirmed, his voice thick with desire, and there was a vulnerability to his plea that struck a chord deep within you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this was precisely where you belonged—with Cillian, entangled in this forbidden web of passion and intrigue.

"Okay," you thus conceded softly, a slow smile spreading across your face. "I'll stay," you whispered, your breath fanning out against Cillian's bare chest before you picked up your phone and texted your best friend and roommate Lucy, telling her that you wouldn't be back until Friday. 

To be continued...

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[srbachchan]

DAY 6100

Jalsa, Mumbai Oct 31, 2024 Thu 10:04 pm

Birthday - EF Vaijayanti Ravindra Damle Friday, 1 November

... and all our wishes for a lovely birthday , on this auspicious day .. love from the Ef ❤️

Nov 1, 2024 Fri 10:46 am

Started at night the previous and then slumber took over .. so the first work in the morning of today is this DAY .. the day with the 100 ..

दीपावली की अनेक अनेक शुभकामनाएँ; सुख शांति समृद्धि सदा बनी रहे, प्रार्थना भव :

... and the date for the day of diwali continues to differ and vary .. for some in the country it was yesterday, for some like us , today ..

But day and date are numerical ideologies .. the mind and heart and feelings shall ever be greater and superior .. for, each day, shall be the celebration of festivities and life ..

Lighting a diya दिया , lighting the home and heart for appeasing the divine to enter in invitation and with its sublime aura, to fill our days ahead with the divinity sanctity and sacredness of BLESSINGS ..

We pray for peace , happiness and prosperity ever .. with all beyond all

अमिताभ बच्चन

Amitabh Bachchan

[rxzennia]

thrice shall the bell toll

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 expands on 2.2 leaks, dark content towards the end, character death (everyone dies), heavy angst(?), not proofread. totally did not die a little inside when i wrote this, no. thank you all for 100+ followers! gold and gears, achievement grinding are driving me nuts and seeing everyone else get him makes me want to quit the game altogether. perhaps it’s time i focus more on other things. 

“never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

the musicians begin to play with rigor as the symphony enters crescendo, building up to its climax as the orchestral music increases in intensity and irregularity. the choir sings, paving the way for the descent of an aeon, of justice; their harmony announcing the impending doom of the sinner, promising his demise, promising him eternal rest.

you arrive at the central plaza, just in time for the closing act.

you meet sunday’s eyes, the bastard head of the oak family, the mastermind conducting this cacophony of noises and disturbances. he has the gall to smirk, to flash you a smirk, as if he’s daring you to do anything.

“aventurine, ambassador of the interastral peace corporation.” sunday stalks around the man bound in shackles, like predator circling prey, hands behind his back as he looks down at him with contempt. “you are hereby found… guilty.”

the baton descends – with it, the melody dramatically tips over its climax into decrescendo. 

people often say that death has no place in a dream of prosperity and privilege. 

but when the distinction between dream and reality blurs as the very dimension crumbles, who’s to say that to die is to wake, and who’s to say that death is not still death?

in his last moments of consciousness, aventurine sees you reach for your scarf with an expression he had never seen before. acceptance, perhaps? or disappointment? regardless, you have still chosen to surprise him at his last moment. must you continue to exceed his expectations even at his execution? but both you and he know that it is already too late, and his final solace is that you are present to witness the final chapter of his story.

that he is not left behind again.

the golden hands come full circle, palms closing as the strings lift their bows in unison, leaving only the winds to continue playing. the conductor drops their baton as the inevitable quickly encroaches upon the center stage, as the music ceases until only a sole trumpet remains sounding –

he closes his eyes with a last smile for you; aventurine has finally won, at the cost of losing everything.

once shall the bell toll, for the blessed prisoner condemned to a life of deceit and insincerity.

in a split second, the sky darkens; what used to be perpetually golden and bright has been eclipsed without a trace. the artificial sun goes out, street lamps are extinguished, a veil of darkness envelops the golden hour. what was once paradise becomes the abyss, and lament stands where joy once stood. 

your scarf flutters to the ground as you give it a strong tug, undoing its loops around your neck as you let it fall. you are half-expecting a gasp followed by a waterfall of words, but it never comes.

because there is no source. aventurine isn’t here anymore. 

there’s no more of your boss staring at you with the most awestruck expression as you reveal your face anymore. there’s no more of your boss’s endless pestering anymore.

there’s no more of aventurine opening up to you, getting you to open up, or him tentatively trusting you with fragments of his past anymore.

for the first time, you experience anger. a wrath so intense that it is enough to set even the heavens alight.

it’s about time someone ripped up this disgusting dream woven with fabric made of lies. this facade of extravagant luxury built upon a decaying foundation and the desperation of the masses’ escapism, a nightmare delicately packaged into fantasy that had stripped countless people of their ambitions and futures, it’s about time someone demolished it all.

the dreamchasers who voluntarily surrendered their realities for a temporary escape, the family members who could only obey, the heads of families who put together a ploy like this, and the harmonious strings who composed such a chaotic melody…

none of them matter. 

all that matters is that aventurine is executed, publicly, in utmost humiliation.

your scarf disintegrates into tiny specks of dust. brilliantly platinum scales extend from your fingertips to your jaw, threatening to stretch along your face, too. as if answering your call, serpents emerge from all corners of your shadow, slithering off towards all directions as they respond to your will.

in the sky that is pitch black, even darker shadows rear their heads; they fly, circle around the plane of the masterfully crafted illusion, around penacony itself. they await your orders, they await your next command. 

“eat up, my darlings.”

twice shall the bell toll, for the manufactured illusion of utopia drowning in the afterglow of opulence.

there is a reason why oroboros the voracity has kept to themselves in an unseen corner of the universe – they are not titled the unsatisfied devourer without reason.

with each corner you take for your own sustenance, you feel the universe tilt. the scales are tipping, the balance is tipping. with each piece of reality you consume, the boundary between subconscious and conscious blurs, falsehoods bleed into truth, and you feast upon them all the same.

in your rage, you are not merely tearing lives and environments apart. you are tearing religions apart, tearing peoples apart. worshippers and monuments of xipe the harmony, their symbols and their emanators, the hard-built resort destination called the dreamscape, and the plainly unremarkable penacony in reality, you are tearing it all apart.

you know you have upset the balance, and you know the consequences. you can hear the crystalline chime of the arbiter’s footsteps approaching you, you can almost see the blinding white light of the operating theater.

as the planet of festivities begin to fall out of orbit, so too do the serpents begin to decompose into glittering ashes. 

people scream as gravity somersaults, some swallowed by the caving ground, some swallowed by the gaping maws of the faceless serpents, and some dying by the hand of their kin as they struggle for survival.

you watch impassively as mortals scramble to prolong their lives, and you watch impassively as your serpents are lost, one by one, to the hands of an aeon.

if the mere handwave of an arrogant upholder of justice and a simple declaration are justification enough for an execution, for what reason should you not return the gesture?

if people would simply watch as someone is served the death penalty, what reason do you have to act as they become feed one after another?

and what reason do you have to cling onto mortal sentiments, now that your anchor to mortality is gone?

the man they killed is aventurine. your sometimes-too-annoying boss that you would not trade for anything in the world. your anchor; your dear, dear friend.

you see no reason to rein in your instincts anymore. the primal urge to consume overwhelms you, and all you want to do is to devour, devour, until there is nothing left.

voracity. oroboros’s will.

eat up while you still can, fill your metaphorical stomach with the blood of implicit killers, and tear into the flesh of the perpetrators of this grave transgression.

make them pay. before your judgement rains upon you, before the trumpeters herald your doom, before the star radiating false light meets its end in a supernova, make them pay.

their surgery is swift and painless – precise incision; two, three motions of the scalpel; complete excision.

at long last, the curtains fall. theatrics reach its conclusion, and when you look – there is no one left in the audience. 

thrice shall the bell toll, for the leviathan whose fury burned brighter than the ordinance of equilibrium.