#but the perfumes and candles i return home with every time are worth it

[laurapetrie]

Rose Desgranges "La Rose Du Faubourg" Candle

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

you should do a fluffy smut with Virgil! with a size difference 🤭

Homecoming

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Virgil finally comes home after going away for matches and you give him a warm welcome.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Virgil Van Dijk x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 5.1k

Warnings! NSFW! SMUT (18+), size kink, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dom!Virgil, sub!reader.

There's nothing you hate more than away games.

The house feels too big, too empty without him. You move through the rooms, trying to fill the silence with the sound of your own footsteps, but it's not the same. It's never the same when he's not here.

Virgil. The love of your life. The center of your universe.

Tonight is different, though, because he's finally coming home.

After nearly two weeks of no contact, except for the occasional brief FaceTime, you were more than ready to have your husband back home.

So you’ve been preparing, setting the stage for a quiet, intimate night. Just the way you know he would like it.

The dining table was set with candles, a bottle of his favorite wine, and two plates filled with rice, butter chicken, and steamed vegetables, perfectly seasoned. His favorite. You were dressed in the short red dress he bought you last month and had sprayed on his favorite perfume.

All that’s left to do is count the minutes until he walks through that front door. Which is exactly what you’ve been doing for the past thirty minutes. 

You hear the distant hum of the car engine, and your heart skips a beat.

You run to the mirror in the hallway to quickly check your appearance, smoothing down any stray hairs and adjusting your dress. Satisfied with your reflection, you take a deep breath and go stand by the door.

Finally, you hear the familiar sound of the key turning in the lock, and the door swings open, and there he is—Virgil.

You don't hesitate as you rush to greet him, jumping into his arms once you're close enough. Giving him barely any time to react as you wrap your legs around his waist and shower him with kisses.

"Hello to you too." Virgil chuckles, stumbling a little from the force of your attack. Without dropping you, he places his bags on the floor and tightens his arms around you as he returns your affectionate kisses, his hands slyly sneaking down to cup your ass, squeezing.

"I missed you," you whisper against his neck, your breath sending shivers down his spine. He responds with a soft laugh, brushing his lips against your cheek. "I missed you more," he confesses, bringing his hand up, cupping your face, and pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

His stubble grazes your skin, and for a moment, time stands still. You love him. And he loves you.

As you pull away, Virgil's gaze lingers on you, taking you in. "Are you wearing my perfume?" he groans, giving your bum another generous squeeze, causing you to release a soft moan. 

"Mmh," you whisper shyly, gently tugging on his goatee. His eyes sparkle with absolute awe as he leans in closer, nipping teasingly at your neck, hands kneading your ass roughly. You feel a surge of desire course through your body, down to your pussy at his actions.

“Yeah, you miss me that much?”He asks playfully, wrapping his arms around you tighter, letting out a small growl when you giggle at the sensation of his beard tickling your chin. 

You nod, pressing your forehead against his. “Yeah.”

“Then I guess I should make it worth it.” He purrs, pulling you in for another kiss. This one is more passionate, your tongues dueling together as hands roam. They are all over your body, feeling every bump and curve, his fingers leaving goosebumps behind. His lips trail down your neck, leaving wet, sensual kisses. 

Your breath hitches when he reaches your collarbone, sucking on it gently. “Wait.” You whisper, pushing him away.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, brown eyes looking at you with concern. You melt at the sight, falling in love with him all over again. 

“I made dinner.” You smile sheepishly, flushing red as your stomach growls at the reminder. You were so busy getting everything ready today, you hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. 

He giggles at the sound, and you blush even more. "Alright," he huffs with a playful pout, slowly releasing you, setting you down on your feet, keeping his hands on your hips. 

 You giggle, give him a quick kiss, and go to walk away, but he yanks you back, bending down to place a soft kiss on your neck. "But I’m having you for dessert," he purrs into your ear. You feel his warm breath against your skin and melt in his arms.

"Virg," you whimper, feeling a shiver run down your spine. He smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief, as he tightens his hold on you, nibbling gently on your earlobe.

“On second thought. Maybe the food can wait; my appetite is craving something else right now.” You almost give in, but then you remember the surprise you have planned for him later and put your foot down. 

“Nope.” You say popping the ‘p’. "Now come on, the food is getting cold.” You lead him into the dining room, where the flickering candles cast a dance of shadows on the walls. The soft glow accentuating the sharp lines of his face, making him look even more captivating. 

“Wow.” He gasps, eyes wide, as he takes in the scene before him. The table is set with care, adorned with coconut scented candles (his favorite) and rose petals everywhere. “Babe, this looks amazing!” He turns towards you and smiles. “Thank you.” 

You’re beaming at his praise, happy that he likes it. “Welcome. Now please sit.” You gesture towards a chair, inviting him to sit, and he complies with his usual charming smile. 

The first bite is a revelation—a burst of flavors that dance on your taste buds. You can't help but moan in delight, and he chuckles. “Hungry?” You can only nod, scoffing down the food in the most unladylike manner. But it doesn’t faze him.

Virgil has other things in mind, barely touching his food and instead finding subtle ways to express his affection—a stolen kiss, a tender touch, a whispered compliment.

As delicious as everything is, he has a different hunger—a hunger for the woman sitting across from him.

He can't help but admire the way the candlelight plays on your features, accentuates the curve of your smile, and the way your eyes light up as you talk about her day and ask about his.

"Virgil, are you even listening?" You tease, breaking him from his thoughts.

Caught off guard, he chuckles, "Of course, love. I'm just appreciating the view."

You blush under his lustful gaze, warmth spreading across your cheeks at his subtle compliment. "Smooth talker."

As the last bite is savored, he rises from the chair, making you look up in confusion. "I believe I was promised dessert." He states, eyes trailing your figure, a hunger of a different kind building within him. 

You raise an eyebrow, at his words, feeling your heartrate spike up at the subtle indication. "Oh? And what might that be?"

He circles the table until he's behind you and bends down to press a gentle kiss to your neck. "You, my love. That's all I want."

Then he's pulling you out of the chair and throwing you over his shoulder, sprinting up the stairs as you shriek and giggle.

The door to your bedroom closes shut and your heart rate skyrockets. You know what’s coming next. You feel him set you down before he’s gripping your waist and pulling you closer. 

Even after five years of marriage, you still can't get over how much of him there is. 

The way you have to crane your neck to look at him, forced to take in the way he towers over you. All broad shoulders and hard lines. Forearms that look like they could be the size of your thighs. Hands that easily encompass your waist, gripping and squeezing until all that’s left are faint bruises. 

The epitome of masculinity.

You want to cower at the way he’s looking at you right now. Hungry and possessive, as if he could devour you whole. 

"Hi,” he whispers, his deep voice resonating through your body. It's a simple word, but it sends shockwaves down your spine, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench with the way his words wash over you like spring rain.

"Hi," your voice trembles, and you watch his pupils blow wide. His gaze holds you captive, as if he can see every secret and hidden desire within you. Every nerve in your body is on high alert, craving his touch.

He's magnetic, drawing you in with an irresistible force. The short time apart seems to have made you forget how beautiful he is. How good he smells.

He’s warm water on a cold winter's day, thawing you from the inside out—settling deep in your bones and filling up a space you hadn’t known was empty. You want him.

All those nights spent In the dark, a pillow finding its way between your thighs, the scent of him lingering on each one as your hand muffles your moans. When you're empty and dripping and coming with a cry. It chokes you.

It stuffs its way down your throat, filling your lungs, and blocking your airways. It plunges you underwater, leaving you gasping for breath. It sticks to your clothes, your sheets, reminding you of him even when he’s not there. 

All you can think about is him. The way he consumes your thoughts, leaving no room for anything or anyone else.

It’s hell.

It’s bliss.

You watch his gaze rake down your body, setting on the place where the hem of your dress meets the tops of your thighs. Catching the moment he decides he's going to devour you whole.

The room feels smaller than usual. His presence overwhelming you in the best way. A heat—unbarabely intense—fills the air, making it difficult to breathe as his gaze lingers on your trembling body.

A need—coarsing through your body with vengeance—eats through your bones and settles low in your belly.

You hurt, you ache, you need. 

Fucking need him, to fill you up until you're dripping onto the grey silk sheets. 

He approaches you with a predatory grace, a smug smile on his lips. "Time for dessert." Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of his confident steps towards you.

“Virg-” a whine, clawing its way up from deep in your throat. “I need you.”

A look in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher—something soft, something primal, something hungry. “Shh, I know. it’s okay.” Full lips stretched thin—a smile that asks you to stay, to trust, to submit. A smile that tells you to run. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

A needy whimper drips from your lips like the sticky mess that drips from your core. You want him to lick it. “You will?” Big, soft, doe eyes looking into the stare of a predator that wants to rip you limb from limb.

The grin that spreads across his face tells you everything and nothing, and you know you're not sleeping tonight.

Gently, he walks you both backwards until the edge of the bed presses against the back of your knees, his body trapping yours. You're his for the taking.

Slowly, Virgil trails his fingers along the straps of your dress, teasingly pulling them down your shoulders until they hit the floor, leaving you exposed for his eyes only. 

His breath hitches involuntarily at the sight of you, big brown eyes traveling along your curves, indecisive on which part of you he wants to explore first. “Fuck, baby.” His voice is soft as he takes in the black lace covering your skin. “Look at you.”

You can’t help the way your face lights up at his words and the warmth that floods your veins. “You like it?”

A kiss to your forehead. “I love it. I love you.” His words make your heart swell, knowing that he's still just as enamored with you as the day you first met. "I can't wait to fuck you." His words send an unmistakable ache deep in your chest. An excruciating emptiness in your cunt. The heat is back, and it burns. 

“It hurts.” You sound so small and afraid, and all you want is for him to make it better. “Please fuck me, Virg, please, please, make it stop hurting.”

Soft kisses on hot, itchy skin. The feeling of his beard against the sensitive flesh of your neck leaving you to squeeze your sticky thighs together, hoping for the smallest bit of friction.

A large hand grips your thigh, forcing you to remain still. “None of that.” A tone that leaves no room for argument. He lays you down on the sea of sheets and pillows and big, buttery soft blankets. Taking soft, sweet moments to tell you how perfect you are.

How beautiful. How precious.

He kisses your neck, your collarbone, the tops of your breasts, gently pulling down the clasps of your bra, leaving you topless. His hands explore the curves of your body, tracing every inch with gentle caresses as he licks his way down to your breasts. You are so soft, warm, and sweet—and he wants all of you.

His mouth closes over one nipple, sucking until it becomes hard and you're aching for more, as his large hand comes up to cup the other breast, completely encasing it and massaging softly, making you whine in pleasure.

He nuzzles his face into your chest and breathes in deeply—the scent of you intoxicating him. Pulling back, his hands cradle your face, his gaze searching yours. "I can't get enough of you," he admits, his voice husky with lust.

He moves his way down, planting wet kisses as he goes, over your stomach, across your hips…until he reaches the juncture between your legs and prys them open. An obscene amount of slick rushes out of you, soaking your panties and leaving a wet spot in the center.

He pulls them down with his teeth, exposing your dripping pussy. He inhales deeply, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal. "Oh, fuck, baby. You're so fucking pretty." His voice is deeper than usual, drenched with thirst. "Is this all for me?" He asks as his fingers trace the outline of your labia, and you nod frantically, unable to form words. "Yeah? Good girl."

He plays with you for a little bit longer, teasing you with gentle strokes and flicks, making you squirm and moan in pure pleasure. He pulls away and looks up at you with those chocolate-brown eyes. "Tell me what you want, baby. I need words." His voice is low and husky, chuckling at the wanton moan that escapes your lips.

You look down at him, eyes glazed, as you try to speak, but all that comes out is a garbled mess of sounds. He shakes his head, smiling wickedly. "No. Tell me. Use your words, babygirl."

You swallow hard, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. "I-I want you to, to eat my pussy. Please, please, Virgil." You moan, pleading, your eyes welling up.

"Your wish is my command," he purrs before diving right in.

Not even warning you before you feel a hotwetsogood tongue devouring you. Consuming you like you're the sweetest treat he's ever tasted. Licking and sucking.

Your hips buck up off the bed, and you whimper. He holds your hips down with one hand, his palm covering your lower stomach, while he uses the other to slide two fingers inside you.

Too big and too much for the size of you. Forcing their way in, like the tight entrance of your pussy was made to accommodate them. They curl once, twice, grazing that sweet spot inside you that he knows oh so well.

Stretching you open. Leaving little starbursts behind your eyes. And your mind goes blank. All you know is him.

And God, does it feel good.

Pumping and licking, and it’s too much.

It’s not enough.

You need–

His lips wrap around your clit and sucks and it's over. You cry out his name as your orgasm hits, waves of pleasure washing over you, body shaking, pussy muscles clenching hard around his fingers.

He doesn't stop until your body stops convulsing, and you reach down to push his head away, clit too sensitive to handle any more stimulation, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

You hear his voice.

Somewhere distant, cloudy, and out of reach. Barely making out the way he whispers, “So good. You did so good for me, baby.” against your clit. The sound of his voice leaves you soft, and gooey, and floating.

"That was good, wasn't it?" he asks, stocking your thigh. You nod, still breathless. "Yeah, that was amazing." You whisper, face red as you recover from your high. He grins and rises from his position between your legs, his 6'5 frame towering over your 5'3, before he leans forward and presses his lips to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, making you taste your own sweetness.

You feel him against you—all firm and warm—and realize he's still dressed. You tug at his shirt, eager to feel his bare skin against yours. He chuckles and quickly undresses until he's naked, revealing a sculpted body that can only come from years of dedicated fitness.

He reaches down and takes hold of your hand, guiding it to his cock. It's hard and throbbing, ready for you. You wrap your hand around it and squeeze, stocking slowly. He groans, his hips thrusting forward.  "Your hand feels so good, babe. I can't wait to be inside you."

You whimper at his words, stocking faster at the thought. It's been so long, and there's only so much your vibrator can do. You want him, you need him. "Fuck me. Please fuck me, Virgil."

He leans down, supporting himself on his forearms so he doesn't crush you under his weight, to press his cock against your dripping cunt. You moan at the feeling, anticipation runs through you at the sheer size of him against you. "Please put it in. Please!” you beg, hips arching towards him.

He grabs them, forcing you to stay still. “Hey,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Patience, my love," he murmurs, his eyes locked with yours. His hands going down to rub your clit “I got you. I'm gonna give it to you. Always do."

He hovers above you. Bending down and spreading your legs so wide, you feel like he's trying to split you in half. "You ready, baby?" You can only nod.

His cock glides through the sticky mess you've made between your legs, and you gasp when it grazes your clit. The smile on his face when he does it again is enough to make you clench down on nothing. 

You watch him stare down at where his cock disappears inside you. Watching the way his eyes darken and his breath stills. Watching as heavy lids fall over dark eyes as he bottoms out inside of you in one long thrust. 

The moan you let out is pornographic as you feel his firm grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "Oh, fuck! You're so fucking tight. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?" he groans, starting with slow, long, deep thrusts.

The feeling of utter fullness never ceases to amaze you, even after all these years. The feeling of him filling you so deeply, so completely, that you can’t help but roll your eyes back and moan.

He carves out a place inside to fit the shape of him and no one else.

Because no one, no one, can ever or has ever come close to how he seems to take up every inch of you. No one can ever compare to the way all of the air in your lungs seems to leave you with a choked gasp.

There’s nothing like it. There will never be anything like him.

You want more, so you ask– "Please, please-”

He thrusts hard, and your head falls back against soft pillows. Silk wrapped around your head, leaving you with nothing but the feeling of featherdown clouds and the sounds of fabric rustling with his every move. 

“Look at you.” He fucks in deep, leaving you a puddle of tears and slick. “Crying so pretty for me,” his cock reaches places in you that you never knew existed until him—places that you're sure he’s created just for him. “Letting me in like a good girl. Taking me so well."

Your cunt clenches down on his cock, gripping him tighter at every word that falls from his lips. “Oh? You like that, baby? You like letting your husband fuck you like the little slut that you are?” You can do nothing but cry, nod, and hold on tight. “Use your words, my love. Tell me how much you love it. Look at the way you’re dripping on my cock, and tell your husband you love how he fucks you.”

You can’t—can’t make your mouth form the words. Can’t tell your body to do anything other than take what he gives you and pray he decides to give you more.

He doesn't like that.

His hand leaves your waist to wrap around your throat. Adding pressure and forcing your head up until you can do nothing but look at him.

“Tell me, darling. C'mon, be a good girl.” He grits through his teeth, his eyes fluttering in pleasure at the tight clench of your pussy around his cock. Fuck, she feels so good. He thinks.

The tone of his voice fills your head, and you go slack against him, left with nothing but the need to take what he gives and give him anything he asks for 

"I love it.” You're sobbing now. Salty tears falling from your eyes and leaving trails down your cheeks. "I love it, I love it, I love it.”

“Look at it. Look at how good that tight little pussy is taking me—fuck!" His grip on her throat tightens, and he gently pulls until you're forced to watch the way he pumps in and out of you and the mess you've made on his cock. "You're so fucking wet, baby."

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" You scream, your body shaking with pleasure. “It’s– I’m–”

His fingers find your clit, rubbing hard circles on it until you're a sobbing, blubbering mess under him. “Go ahead." He fucks you hard, the sound of his balls slapping your pussy echoing through the room, drowned out by your loud moans. “Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how good you are.”

A guttural moan rips from your chest and forces its way into his mouth, where he crushes his lips against yours. He’s everything. you're everything. And it’s so fucking blissful and hot, you sob at how much you love him.

It took a few minutes for your fuzzy head to clear to realize that his hips were still moving. “No, no, I can’t- I cant-” You shake your head, desperately trying to crawl away from him but finding nowhere to go but deeper into the pillows. “It’s too much.”  

He grabs your hips and drags you back to him, massaging your hips. “Shh, it’s okay.” Soft, soothing circles traced onto your skin. A half-teasing smirk on pink lips. “You can take it.”

Your head shakes again, hiccuping a little as you twist and turn in his arms. “I can’t.” But deep down, you know you can—you always do.

"You will,” he moves you. His grip tightens as he lifts you effortlessly, flipping you over and adjusting you in a way that’s to his liking until he’s settled under you—griping your waist. "Trust me," he whispers, his voice filled with confidence. "I got you."

With a gentle yet firm grip, he starts to guide your movements, slowly easing you into the rhythm. "There we go. I told you you could take it." He speeds up your movement, each thrust more powerful than the last. "So tight." Groans and moans escape his lips in perfect harmony with his movements.

"You're mine," he growls, emphasizing the word with a deep, hard thrust, bucking his hips up. He brings his hand up to your throat, lightly applying pressure as he continues to thrust. "Tell me you're mine, baby." No answer.

He tightens his grip on your throat, his voice growing more demanding. "I said, Tell me you're mine." This time, he pulls you down, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Y/N,” he presses, gently demanding his answer as his thrust becomes faster and deeper. You feel him in your stomach.

"Oh, FUCK!" you shout, the intensity of his thrusts becoming too much, and you finally manage to gasp out, "I'm yours." His grip loosens slightly, a satisfied smirk plays on his lips. "Good girl."

He releases his grip on your throat and in one sudden movement, flips you over onto your back, continuing his relentless pace. The room fills with the sound of your moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. “Feels… fuck, your cock,” you babble, unable to form a coherent sentence. “So… so big.”

It doesn't take long for you to cum, vision turning white with pleasure. "Fuck, baby. That's right, squirt for me." He pulls you up, holding you tight in his grip, until your back bows and you're flush against his chest. Your other knee drops as he wraps an arm around your waist—moving you until you're wrapped up in his arms and he’s settled back on his heels. Your legs around his waist, his nails digging into your soft skin—his lips at your neck.

You collapse into him, your body limp and spent. He holds you close, whispering sweet words of affection as you both catch your breath. “Mmmm, yeah. That's right, you're mine.”

His pace slows down, but he doesn't stop. And it's not long before you're clenching down on him again, pussy so sensitive that the slightest movement sends you closer to the edge.

“You gonna come for me again?” He whispers in your ear. "Yeah," you whimper. "Fuck, yeah." He grunts. "Give it to me." He orders, and you obey.

"Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" You sob as you come a fourth time that night, clenching around him in a vice grip, milking him for all he's worth. He growls, and then you feel his hot cum shoot deep into your pussy, triggering a mini orgasm from you. "Oh! God!" You feel it coating your insides. "fuck baby! I love you." He moans as he thrusts harder and harder, until there's nothing left.

"Goddam, woman," he rasps, collapsing completely on top of you with a huff.  "What a welcome. That was amazing." He kisses your neck, and you feel his cock twitching inside you.

“Virg! I can’t breathe!” you exclaimed with a breathy laugh that instantly turned into a wince when he shifted, his pelvis dragging along your sore, throbbing clit.  

“Sorry,” he apologizes, gently easing up onto his forearms, panting.

“Don’t go away,” you whine, locking your legs around his waist and pulling him down, loving the intimacy of him still fully sheathed inside of you as his eyes bore into your soul. 

“How do you feel?” Virgil asked, his gaze soft on you as he caresses your thigh, trying to soothe the remnants of a dull twinging ache he knows you usually feel after, but the bliss you were feeling at the moment countered it all. 

"Great," you respond, a contented smile spreading across your face. "I missed you," you whisper, tracing circles on his back with your fingertips. 

"I missed you too," Virgil murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you." He whispers, so low you barely hear him.

"I love you." You murmur, wincing as he gently pulls out, making him whisper a string of apologies into your skin. Virgil kneels between your legs, your pussy red, raw, and gaping, and plunges his fingers in, stuffing his cum back inside.

"Fuck, that's hot." He says, watching his fingers slowly move in and out of you, as you tremble beneath him. "You okay?" Virgil's voice rumbles against your thigh, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

You nod, a content smile playing on your lips. His fingers trace lazy circles on your clit, a soothing gesture that lulls the ache.

"Never been better," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. Virgil chuckles softly, his chest vibrating against your calf. He presses a gentle kiss on your mound, his lips warm against your skin, and pulls his fingers out. 

“Stay here, my love. I’m gonna grab something to clean you up.” Virgil said, kissing your inner thigh. "Okay,” you reply, watching him walk to the bathroom, his naked ass bouncing slightly with each step. Your eyes follow him until he disappears from view, and then you melt into the sheets, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

You hear the sound of rummaging, then water running, before he finally emerges, damp washcloth in hand. 

He crawls back onto the bed, kneeling between your legs. He wipes your inner thighs first, gently cleaning away the evidence of your pleasure. You squirm a little as he gets closer to your pussy, but he’s gentle and careful, wiping away any remnants of cum that may have escaped. 

“All done.” He booms and tosses the rag aside, his attention fully on you. He lay down beside you, his arm wrapping around you protectively. The warmth of his body against yours.

You shift slightly, snuggling into his chest, finding the perfect nook to rest your head. His arms wrap around you protectively, the soft thud of his heartbeat comforting, and you listen, lulled into a sense of peace.

Virgil presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

Virgil tilts your chin up, his dark eyes locking onto yours. There's a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability that mirrors your own. "You mean everything to me, you know that?" he says, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity that sends you spiraling.

You nod, a lump forming in your throat as you absorb the depth of his words. "I know," 

Virgil leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It's slow, unhurried, a sweet exploration of each other's mouths. You taste the remnants of the passion you shared moments ago, mingled with the sweetness that is uniquely Virgil.

When he pulls away, a soft smile plays on his lips. "I'm the luckiest man in the world,"

-Bianca🌻

[echantedtoon]

In The Moon's Shadow (Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch4 Beginning

(Warnings: Y/n's boss treats her horribly.

For context the sun looks like the picture above. Pic not mine. Found on Pinterest.)

You didn't remember when you collapsed.

It must've been sometime during the middle of the night because you woke up the next morning collapsed on the floor just behind the table of perfumes. You woke dizzy and confused. Why weren't you in your bed? Where was your house? You had sat up confused. It was still raining outside although not quite as  bad as last night. You remember that part at least. It was only when you moved. It was only until something red fell from your lap. When a red candle rolled across the floor. That you remembered.

A demon had visitedh you last night 

Disregarding everything else, your body managed to get to the front door of the shop and opened it up to poke your head out and look up and down the streets. Rain pelted everything in sight as grey clouds filled the sky and thunder continued to clash overhead every few minutes. The winds continued to blow the trees but not as bad as last night. The streets remained empty as they had did yesterday. No human or demon in sight. With no one around, you closed the door and backed up into the safety of the store. After a moment of standing there, your head turned and stared at the candle. A moment later feet approached and a hand picked the rather large red candle off the floor holding it up to turquoise eyes. The smell of cinnamon rolled over your senses before a sigh escaped your lips. 

"So it wasn't just a nightmare."

A demon had been here. A demon that you had met before in the woods, and who now wanted you to do a custom candle carving for him. His voice from last night echoing in your mind the longer you stared at the cinnamon red candle.

 "I want you to carve a sun into this. Make the sun look as if it was made of dancing flames."

For whatever his reasons were, he wanted you to do a custom job for him on the candle. It was such a surreal experience. .. Turquoise eyes glanced at the table. A few bottles of perfume was still knocked over. On instinct a hand reached out to start neatly pushing the bottles right side up, however it paused when eyes caught sight of a green soap bar. The green soap smelled of mint and was partially carved into a blooming rose. It was a bit strange to carve a green mint soap into a rose shape when it didn't even smell like the flower but it was unique and that's what you liked about it. You liked it's scent and spending so much free time carving as much detail you could into it as a hobby. You thought it looked beautiful but then again so did someone else.

 "Then I want this also, looking as if it was in full bloom."

The demon had taken interest in it also and ordered you finished it along with the candle. Within two weeks no less. All that hard work you put into it down the drain. But we're you going to argue with a six foot demon that looked like he could rip you in half with a single hand?

No. No you were not.

You could always restart on making you another one. No little piece of soap was worth your life. The surreal day was very quiet aside from the rain, lightning, thunder, and wind. Leaving you alone in the home. Not knowing what else to do, you walked around your boss's home and tided up her living space and doing some chores around her home. It'd be something to help you get your mind off things. In reality you were stalling on returning to your home. It's not that you didn't want to go home to your own house, but you were afraid. Afraid to go outside in the storm by yourself and  running into that demon. Or worse. Running into another demon that wasn't so...nice?? You wouldn't say the one you met was friendly but rather him than an unfriendly one.

Eventually after some time you say down at the table and picked up the red candle again looking it over before fetching a small metal stick about as thick and big as a single chopstick, and setting to work starting on the wax. A sun made of dancing flames...You had an idea of what it should look like but it would take at least three maybe four days to carve out such a detailed design on a big candle since you usually didn't do such big designs and so detailed. But you supposed now would be as good as any time to get started you guessed. No one else showed up that day, neither did your boss although you kept glancing out the window for any signs of life.  None made themselves known. At the end of the day, you managed to find some food in your boss's food you borrowed and slept on a few spare pillows and blankets you found for the night not wanting to walk home right now. Well..she also said you could stay so you didn't have to walk home in this weather. You awoke the next morning to the sounds of a door opening and the sounds of footsteps shuffling around. It jolted you awake out of fear of the approaching figure, but instantly calmed down as the surprised face of your boss shuffled into her home.

She looked surprised seeing you laying there on the ground but soon scowled at you lying there. "Just what are you doing here?"

You should've known it was here from the shuffling and tiny fast footsteps but you guessed in your sleepy stare hadn't registered it. But you were relieved seeing that it was her. "I-I was tired and fell asleep."

She scowled harder at you. "You slept here? I said you could stay for one night not two!"

"I'm sorry," you apologized to her.

"You used my blankets, and you ate my food!" Her hands rested on her hips in annoyance. "You completely went against what I said!"

"I said that I was sorry-"

A hand was held up to your face. "No excuses! You took advantage of my kindness and I won't have you trying to defend such vile actions!"

"But I cleaned for you-"

"Talking back to me? You don't know when to stop do you?! For that you'll work the rest of this week without pay!," she proudly and angrily stated puffing her chest at your stunned look. "Perhaps that'll teach you not to talk back to your elders! Now get off my floor-" She roughly pointed a hand out the door. "-and go clean those sheets! I won't sleep in them after you used them!"

"But-"

"Talking back again? You can do my entire futon then and make yourself useful!"

You just shut your mouth and decided not to argue with her anymore in order to avoid anymore scolding and possibly more chores thrusted upon her. Under her angry gave, she followed you gathering sheets and laundry before essentially kicking you out arms full of clothes. You stared back at her angry look as she gripped the door.

"And don't return until your finished with it!"

SLAM!!

You flinched when the door slammed shut in your face and you were left standing in the middle of the street. The mud and puddles from the previous two day's showers squished under your feet as you just stepped back..and looked around. The streets were barren still and muddy and wet because of the rain. Water droplets dropped from the roofs and branches of the trees making a faint sound of rain even though it currently wasn't raining. The skies above were littered still with grey storm clouds but they were spaced apart from one another. Hopefully that met the storm was leaving soon. The wind gently blew across the empty streets giving it an eerie feeling. You felt a shiver run down your spine before you turned and started quickly walking down the road towards your home. You'd do the laundry there and change before coming back. Hopefully by then your boss would've calmed down.

The safety and warmth of your own home greeted you with glee and you were happy to be back. Happy to run a quick bath. Happy to do laundry. Happy to clean up around a little bit before just stopping to just take a breather and eat while waiting for the laundry to dry. Some time to yourself for a change before gathering up the sheets and folding them neatly. Gathering them in your arms before leaving your home again back down the quiet streets and back towards your boss's house. Turning one corner- And ramming into what was practically a wall of purple and black. Startled you jumped back and blinked nearly slipping on the muddy ground and looking up before completely freezing-

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Your eyes stared widely at the looming figure of the demon you saw two night ago. His six eyes glaring down at you under the hat sat upon his head. "It's still rude to stare."

Immediately you froze. A cold feeling running through your veins before immediately your body bowed. "I-Im so sorry, Sir! I didn't m-mean to run into you! That w-w-was my mistake."

He didn't move but did tilt his head at the sheets and blankets you carried before humming. "Yes. I forgotten women must take care of their households. I suppose your husband has you running laundry."

You blinked. "Huh?" You glanced up to him in confusion before leaning back up and shaking your head. "N-No. These are for my boss."

The eyes shifted back up to you making you flinch. "I was under the impression that you were employed at the business I visited two nights ago."

"I am. But my boss ordered me to clean these for her."

The eyes continued to stare at you but became half lidded. "I wasn't under the impression that you were also her personal aid."

"I'm not, but I might as well be with everyone else she's had me do for her. But I have a job and I can't complain about it.'' Your eyes wondered from his face to his haori coat which was soaked and clinging slightly to his body. "You're soaked."

"I know."

"Have you been out in this weather since I met you?"

"Since before I met you," he corrected calmly but bluntly, "I made to stay in your village's inn but it seems no one wanted to answer my knocking."

You glanced over his soaked body for a long moment before looking back up to the sky. The grey clouds were still trudging along slowly. He's been outside in the weather for who knows how long. With everyone still terrified and in hiding, it's unlikely that he'll be able to get proper shelter especially if anyone else knew he wasn't human. You felt a pang of pity for him but.. Turquoise eyes glanced back to the sword on his side. You weren't going to chance anything. Who knows who this man was and what he did for a living? You'd have no part of it...But-

"If it's shelter you want," you spoke slowly making your eyes look back to him, "-there's an old abandoned cabin just outside town where the exit leads further into the mountains." You gestured to the far side of town and the complete opposite of where your home was. "No one's lived in it since the owner died a few years ago. Nowadays it's just used by a few men when they go hunting in the woods."

He did not say anything but just stared at you in silence. You stared back feeling more nervous, the more he bore into your eyes. The mud under your feet squishing as you shuffled uncomfortably. 

"...I see," he settled on saying making her jolt slightly. "You should be working. I will not pay if I don't believe that Im not getting my money's worth."

You blinked and bowed- Or .. That's what he was expecting her to do but instead she frowned upon him, her brows furrowing.

"For your information, Sir, I am working on what you wanted," you calmly stated, "My work entails more than just carving so you'll have to understand that I just can't drop my other duties to tend to your order alone. I will get it done how you'll like, but that doesn't mean you will undermine my job."

......He blinked-

"Please give me patience. I understand you want it done within a certain timeframe and your agreement shall be met. Do not rush me for the detailed work you want will take time. I pride myself on not being sloppy." You politely stepped around him. "I'll try to be done by next week's end. Good day to you."

Your shoulder lightly brushed his by accident as you passed his form. He continued to stand there before a hand reached out to where her shoulder lightly brushed his own. Fingers gripped the fabric bunching up his haori sleeve. A head turned silently towards the retreating woman's figure. ...A simple hum escaping his throat.

Your boss was happy when you arrived back a few hours later with the clean sheets, however she then yelled and scolding you loudly over dragging mud onto her porch and onto her home. Demanding that you immediately clean it up then and there, on top of cleaning the floors and mud she HERSELF dragged in when she came back. You didn't argue. You deflated and grabbed a bucket and scrubbing brush from the back, not in the mood to fight and argue with her anymore today. She sat comfortably in the corner painstakingly looking over each and every sheet as you just swept the floors.

"..... There's a stain on the top one here!," she unfolded the top blanket and pointed out a smalL acorn sized stain in the corner of the blanket that would otherwise have been unnoticeable to anyone. "I told you to CLEAN them!"

"But that stain was there long before I cleaned them. It's sauce from one of your lunches you spilt remem-"

"Talking back to me again?! For that you can clean ALL my floors then and I expect you to move furniture! That should teach you for doing an inadequate job and talking back to your elders!"

You wanted to yell at her, but only frowned and returned to your sweeping and biting your tongue. You didn't feel like gaining a headache further from this stupid situation. You found yourself nearly getting spooked by her when she shuffled into the front of the store. Your knees bare from rolling up the hem of your dress and sleeves to better scrub the floors with. Dipping your brush into the water filled bucket next to you before pressing it back against the wooden floors and scrubbing it clean. She stayed to scrutinizingly glare over your shoulder as you did so, but you weren't expecting her to leave for a moment. You felt relieved for only a second before something red blurred in your face. You instinctively jumped back dropping the scrub brush with a thud.

"AHA! And what's this?!," she demanded holding up a red cinnamon scented candle at your face. The very same candle you had left on the small table by the perfumes. "What's the meaning of this? I didn't give you any permission to touch any of the candles! It's a candle to be sold, not a canvas for your hobbies!"

You just stared tiredly letting her finish her yelling before giving an inhale. "I'm not using it for a hobby. Someone asked me to do a custom carving for them."

"Who?!," she demanded squinting her eyes unbelieving at you.

"A man. He came a day or two ago and asked me for a few carvings for him."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"He said he'll be back sometime within two weeks. If you don't believe me, you may wait until he arrives and I'll show you him."

"Don't tell me what I may or may not do in my own home!!," she spat at your tired face, "For that you can scrub the porch too!" She hissed before whipping her hand to the candle and the beginnings of a carving on it... before huffing and turning to drop it back onto the table. "But if you think it will amuse me, I certainly will wait and we'll see this 'man' you speak of. If he exists."

"If? But he does-"

"TALKING BACK AGAIN!! YOU CAN DUST THE SHELVES TOO!!"

You turned back around and just went back to scrubbing the rest of the home's floors. You would not be getting any work done today it looked like. Unbeknownst to the both of you someone saw. Someone who had gone to hunt while you swept and was just now making his way back to a certain cabin with a plump pheasant in his hands from a successful small hunt. Passing yell got his attention briefly on the yelling woman and the young lady scrubbing the floors but he only passed on by with nothing but a hum to the situation.

You in fact did not get anymore work done that day too busy with cleaning everything while the angry older woman continued to scrutinizing you until it got dark enough for you to go home, and by that, your boss made you make her dinner before kicking you out for the night. You went back home exhausted and frustrated at the situation but returned the next day with the intentions of finishing up your work. This time you paid no mind to her angry ramblings or her glares as you just sat back down and began carving into the surface of the red candle. One day turned to two. Two to three. Three to four-

"It's been half a week already. There's still no sign of any man," your boss chastised you while putting more incense bundles she dried up on the shelves one day while giving you a suspicious look as if you had deliberately lied to her. 

"I said he was returning in two weeks time, not half of one week." Small shavings of red wax fell to your lap as you began adding the final finishing details into the candle. By the end of today at least one job will be done. You paused to blow the smaller shavings off the wax for a clear view of the patterns etched around the body of the red candle. 

The older woman paused narrowing her eyes more. "Are you talking back to me?"

"Not at all. I'm only telling you what he told me," you said politely to avoid anymore arguments.

"Hmm. To me it sounds like you're talking back." 

"No. Please not again." You stopped tracing the very last detail in to look over your shoulder at her tiredly. "I promise you I'm not."

"You're definitely talking back to me!" Her expression soured as she crossed her arms and scowled at you again. "So once you're done with that candle, go clean my bathroom before you start on anything else he supposedly asked for. Clearly you haven't learnt your lesson."

"But-"

"Anymore back talk and I won't pay you next week as well!"

You decided to bite your tongue again and just go clean the bathroom after finishing up the candle. It wouldn't have been the first time you cleaned it and you didn't want to lose another week's pay over an old woman's anger. However you supposed you should've went into more detail about what exactly he wanted because she practically flipped when she saw you continuing work on the green soap rose.

"What are you doing?!," she roared as soon as she saw you push the small carving knife into the green soap to continue carving the fake petals. "You're supposed to be working! Not wasting time with stupid toys you're making for yourself!'' she demanded angrily pointing out the objects in your hands.

You didn't even bother looking up this time and only focused on your work. "He wanted this too."

"WHAT?!"

"He saw this and decided that he wanted to purchase this from me too. I told him it'd take me a while and that's why he said he'd return within two weeks time."

She sneered almost instantly. "Now I know you lie! You're only saying that because you want to laze about like a lame cat and fiddle with your own stupid hobbies than put in real work and expecting to be paid still!"

"I never said that I expected to be paid if I lied-," you ever patiently said politely to avoid making her further angry, "-but I did not lie. I'm not doing these things just for myself but genuinely because I am working. And I have put in a lot of real work. I have done everything you have asked me to do."

"Well, since you want to insist on this little charade and lie about this, I'll indulge you only so I can catch you in your lies! But since I know you're lying, and you continue to talk back to me, you can just finish restocking all these shelves yourself while I go visit my grandson." You gave her a look and opened your mouth- "Don't you dare give me that dirty look! For that you can just wash the windows too!"

You decided not to argue as she dropped the last of the incense bundles on the floor and stomped away. You only tiredly glanced as the bundles thudded onto the floor before looking at the soap in your hands still needing to be carved and you sighed. You would not be getting it done as fast as you hoped. You only turned paused your carving and stood up to carefully pick up the incense bundles off the floor to neatly stack them back onto the shelf before turning to walk towards the kitchen in the back. You'd be needing some water to clean up all the windows. A bucket and cloth later, turquoise eyes glanced out of the window towards the outside. A moment later a damp rag was pressed to the glass and started wiping away any dirt and dust. You'll do the inside first before cleaning up the outsides of the windows. Thankfully there wasn't very many so you'd be done quick and be able to get back to work. Turquoise eyes watched the rag on the window.. before glancing up and pausing as they stared into the multiple eyes of a tall demon. The man was there again just on the edge of the porch looking directly at you. Both of you just stood there for a long moment unmoving-

"What are you doing?!" A loud voice made you jump whirling around to your annoyed boss. "I'm heading out now, that doesn't mean you can slack off."

"I-I wasn't! I was just-" You looked back out the window and paused again. He was gone- He was literally standing just right there feet away from you! How did he move so fast?! Your head leaned into the window to look around more. Where did he go?!

"Uh huh. Well if you're done with your daydreaming, get done! I want them spotless by the time I come back!"

You didn't make any complaints as she left. You did not see anymore demons that day.

The town had slowly gone back to normal over the last few days as you continued on your carving. People started coming out again cautiously at first and only the men to gather supplies for their families. But they soon fell back into routine which was enough reassurance for their women to go out too followed by their children like the scare a week before had never happened. You supposed it should've been comforting to you to see life back to normal but you knew there actually was a demon about. A very tall demon with a sword...

But he hadn't made a move to harm anyone.

The most he's done that was even remotely threatening so far you've seen was that night you first met, when you realized he had been gripping his sword in defense, but you had snuck up on him so you couldn't blame him for being on the defensive and he had stood down as soon as he saw you didn't mean him any harm. And he also hadn't shown any other aggressiveness from the few other times you saw one another. Sure he might've been a bit rude and blunt but that's hardly dangerous. So you decided to keep it to yourself. That...and you didn't know what your boss would do next if she had found out that the man you were doing business with wasn't a human man. One more day. One more step closer to finishing. You were almost done with it now cutting each little fake petal into the soap until it looked like a little green rose. You left your finished work next to the red candle with the bright swirling sun carved into its red wax. Your boss continued to scrutinize you as the end of the time frame approached. Often looking outside and commenting that she never saw anyone.

"No one came in for you today."

Or whenever there was a customer, she'd comment on how they weren't there for the carved items.

"That was Mr. Sako. He bought some bath salts for his wife, but I see he didn't even mention anything about your work."

Or just plain accusations.

"I'm starting to run out of patience for your game! Make yourself useful and get me some tea!"

You were starting to get worried. It was almost the end of the week and you hadn't seen this demon yet. You'd thought about going to the old cabin and seeing if he was there, but the thought of going to see a demon alone didn't sound like a good idea even if he hadn't done anything to anyone. You only hoped for him to show up soon.

With another day coming to a close you just went about minding your own business sweeping the floor when a huff made you pause in your movements and look over. The older woman could be seen at her little station in the back pulling a blue candle out of a small cauldron in the fire where bubbling wax was boiling. The process of candle making warmed up the home a lot, and as it was already a warm summer, the windows had been opened and the door left wind open to help regulate the heat. 

"It's getting close to sundown," she commented holding up the candles above the cauldron by the wicks, watching as the wax dropped off then and back into the pot before she'd let them cool a bit and add another layer by dipping them back in. Repeating the process until they were the size she wanted them to be. "The day will be over soon. Don't you think you should head home?"

"I will after I finish sweeping like you told me," you politely said with a smile. 

She only huffed before turning back to her work. "I'm surprised that you're insisting on getting back on my good side. After all, after this week is over and Im proven right, you won't be getting any pay for at least a month for lying to me for so long."

You frowned before just sweeping the floors again. This really wasn't your best time. The bristles swept the small pile of dirt closer and closer towards the open doorway as your focus was mainly on the floor pushing the dirt along until the broom bumped against something in the way. Turquoise eyes followed the thing on the floor before pausing in sudden realization as a foot stood there right next to another. Your head snapped up. A gasp escaped your throat and the broom dropped from your hands with a clatter. The noise had caught the attention of the older woman who turned with an annoyed look but also paused shocked seeing the looming tall figure in the doorway.

The demon had returned.

He stayed inhumanly silent as you both stared back at him before he decided to speak. "I'm here to see if you have finished." His voice was as monotone and blunt as ever as his head tilted at you. "I did tell you that I would be back."

Your boss froze seeing him letting the wax drip out onto the floor no doubt making a mess. You stood there blinking before slowly exhaling and giving him a smile. "O-Oh. Of course. I'm sorry. I didn't hear you walk in. You startled me."

"Apologies."

"No it's alright." You held up a hand making him blink. "I'm sure you didn't mean to do don't apologize." That...wasn't something he expected her to stay. You smiled wider before pointing at the inside of the home. "I finished every just today so you came at a great time. Come in and I'll show them to you."

You walked on over to the small table in the middle of the room and he slowly followed silently stepping over the broom on the floor. He watched as she smiled and lifted two objects in her hands before turning back to him with a smile and presenting them out to him. The smells of cinnamon, cloves, and mint filled his senses and he was almost taken back when he first saw them, six eyes widening. 

"I hope you're pleased with them." The eyes looked back to turquoise ones. The unusual pretty color of them catching the lantern light above her making them sparkle like two clear pools of water making them go even more wide. "I tried to put as much detail as I could into the designs without making it too complicated. I hope that's alright."

He didn't speak for a moment. Taking in the sight of her sparkling eyes... Turquoise. Strange color. He'd never seen another woman with such a specific color eyes. It seemed like a perfectly calm and cool color matching her soft features, especially her soft lips smiling at him and the slight rosiness of her cheeks no doubt caused by the heat in the house, but it was such a soft pink one could confuse her for blushing.  Blushing at him-

BU-BUMP-

A clawed hand harshly dug into the front of his haori as the rest of his body, including his eyes stayed motionless and fixated on you. The sudden grip of his arm made you jump and blink at his hand gripping his chest.

"A bee." She blinked back to him. "There was a bee flying about. Forgive me." His hand slowly lowered from his chest to reach out to her hands holding the objects. "I would like to examine the objects before I decide on any payment."

She nodded holding them out to him. "That's perfectly fine. I'd want to be sure you're getting what you're paying for."

She watched him pick up the candle first, his calloused hands brushing against her scared palms. ..Soft. Her skin was softer and warmer than it looked- He forcibly pushed those thoughts to the side and just looked at the red candle. Again eyes widened. Carved with the curve of the candle was a spiral circle twisting around itself, on the outside of the strange spiral circle was flames reaching out and dancing in different directions. It was...Lovely. His brother would no doubt definitely like this. She didn't say anything when he reached out and just took the other object from her hands and looked at it. The smell of mint was added to the spicy cinnamon, as he stared at the green soap carved into a rose. It wasn't the real thing, but it looked rather close to it. This should suffice for his wife. 

You felt a slight nervous feeling the longer he stared at them before he bothered talking. "These will suffice."

A breath you didn't know you were holding escaped your mouth in a relieved sigh before smiling again at him. "I'm glad you find my work acceptable."

"What's your price?"

"Uh..." You.. hadn't really thought about that. You were too busy trying to get the work actually done and doing whatever your annoyed boss ordered you to do. "I..I haven't really thought about that actua-"

"Fifty ten!" You jumped and turned as your boss confidently shuffled up beside you both and proudly smiled at him. "No more no less! I charge a decent amount for my wares!"

You stared at her in shock. How could she stand there and dare yell at a frightening looking demon?! But then you realized. She must not know he's a demon. His long bangs hid most of his eyes and the darkness of the low hat he wore disguised anything else that might've peeked through, so unless you pushed them out of the way, you'd have no idea he wasn't human. Otherwise he looked completely normal like any other man. Nevertheless his head tilted at her... before silently looking back at you.

"How much did you want?" You looked back to him. "Money is not an issue."

"I just said-"

"It's rude to interrupt a conversation, especially one where you're not involved in, Woman." Your boss stopped shocked by his tone and you also looked surprised by his sudden slight annoyed tone. "I'm speaking to the one who actually put in the work."

Your boss stared slack jawed, obviously caught off guard that she'd dared to be talked like this before she again scowled and pointed at him. "I'll have you know that the candle and soap you're holding was made by my hands!!"

"And yet you're not the one who's made them into beautiful artworks. You did nothing but leave them to be used for anyone else to enjoy. My business is not with you."

"I put my hard work into those things! Who do you think you're talking to, Boy?!"

"A nagging wench who should learn to hold her tongue." Your jaw dropped and eyes went wide as your boss turned a deep red and so angry you were expecting steam to pop from her eardrums. "I refuse to do business with one who refuses my existence. Your wailing is so obnoxious that I could hear it in my sleep. You're position of owner doesn't apply to authority over her like a slave."

You were stunned to say the least. Watching silently as he just told your angry boss off like a child before his hand reached into the folds of his haori coat. The sounds of metal jingling filled the air as a decently sized bag was pulled out and held out to you. 

"I believe this will cover the expenses for each of them."

You only continued to stare at the bag before shaking hands reached out to take it from him and good gods!! It had a bit of weight to it. Automatically you reached up to pull the strings lose and pull the cloth back- Only to almost have your eyes bug out of your skull at the sight of shining yellow.

"I-Is this-"

"Yes. And it's only for you. If anyone else should try to take it for whatever reason-" He spoke while putting his free hand on the hilt of his sword. "-I will not be so kind then." His actions got the old woman to go wide eyed before gulping and taking a step back.

"I-I don't know w-w-what to say." You stuttered out looking back at him. "I-I can't accept this much. T-This is much too much. I-Id be taking too much from you." Your hands held it back out to him. Your actions in doing so surprised him as he leaned back surprised. "At l-least take it back so we can work out a more appropriate payment."

He stared before turning his head from it. "No. You'd offend me more if you refused my offer." His words had you lower the bag. "Take it to make up for the lost wages my presence here has cost you." Wait. How did he know about that? "My business here is concluded. Will you be leaving soon?"

You just...numbly nodded before on autopilot reached down to pick up the broom again and just made back for the dirt pile that was still in front of the door. "I just need to finish the floor here." You mumbled.

"Then I shall wait and walk you home as it's late." He silently watched for a few seconds as you numbly finished your sweeping before turning back to the still pale old woman. "...Your wax is boiling over."

Her head snapped around and a screech left her mouth as the candle wax left unwatched boiled over and dropped messily into the fireplace the smell of burnt wax filling the air. 

Her screech had snapped you out of your stupor and you made to help her but a strong hand grabbing your wrist had stopped you. "She can fix her own mess for once. Leave her and head home."

You could still hear her cussing and wails as you chose to walk down the street with a demon still holding your wrist, being too nervous to argue with the tall demon. The bag of gold coins firmly in your other hand as you awkwardly started walking down the road like this. A few people still walking around despite the setting sun stopped to give you both some curious looks but you only looked down red in embarrassment. This was incredibly strange and awkward for you and you had no idea what to think of this or how to feel. The best you could do was to just walk faster hoping to get to your home faster and get this over with. He said nothing during the entire duration of your traveling until you had tugged on your wrist and stopped in the middle of the road. He obliged and let you go as you looked at him. 

"I-I live on the end of this road. You can part ways w-with me now," you spoke still politely as he looked at you, "T-Thank you for...for...for everything however. It was a pleasure doing business with you."

He only gave you a half lidded look. "That woman. She is the owner?"

You blinked as he just blatantly ignored anything you just said but slowly answered, "Yyyeesss?"

He hummed. "Hm. I am surprised that she's able to keep her business running the way she does ordering everyone around her like that."

You shrugged. "She's always been that way. People around here are just used to her by now. I'm used to it too."

"That is why you are a pushover?"

You frowned. "I'm not a pushover. I just don't have many options for a job being a woman especially in such a small town like this. If I quit or get fired then my only other choices would be to either settle down with one of the men as a wife or became a maid in the local inn."

"Do you not already work at that woman's maid?"

"Yes, but at least with her I know what I'm dealing with. The inn is also the local tavern where men like to drink. Id rather not deal with the drunk shenanigans of men...Ah. No offense."

He blinked. "You apologize to me as if I were a man to be offended-"

"Aren't you?," she asked innocently tilting her head and blinking her large eye almost...cutely. "I may not know a lot about you, but you are a man. Aren't you?"

"I am a demon."

"How is that relevant? You are a man, and I don't think you should be treated differently because of the small fact of being a demon or not."

He didn't say anything. Just stared at you with those eyes studying your figure for a long moment. Turquoise eyes blinked back at him sparkling from the retreating sunlight.

"....You should go home to your husband before it gets dark."

"I'm not married." He hummed at you. "I don't have a husband. I'm not seeing anyone."

A beautiful woman like her without a husband? Doubtful. At the very least she was already being courted and closed to being engaged.

"Hm...You should go inside before it gets dark. Women shouldn't stay out at night where it's dangerous."

You took that as your chance to leave. With another bow, you quickly turned and practically sped walked down the street until you got to your house at the very end of the road. You turned back once, made eye contact with his form, smiled and waved at him, before turning back around, and quickly opened the door. He watched her form fully disappear inside her home before turning and starting to walk away towards the exit of town. 

Shame...She was rather lovely. Such unique eyes as well.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I return briefly with a small dedication to @journeythroughunknownlands for their beautiful Gerskel bathing art. Warnings: Dom/sub undertones; mentions of sex.

Eskel returns every winter tightly wound, his thoughts all tangled up like old tack dumped on the stable floor. He hides it pretty well, or at least he thinks he does, applying his focus and remaining strength to the long list of chores that Vesemir hasn't managed to get to that year.

It isn't that Eskel is self-sabotaging. He just struggles to let go of the mish-mash of coping strategies that keep him safe on the Path, physically and mentally. On the surface, he's his usual jovial self, laughing and joking with Lambert. One afternoon, he shoves said young wolf into a snow drift after a particularly brutal insult about Eskel's face being scary enough to spook all the wyvern away early. Eskel laughs raucously through the resulting brawl and they drink themselves into a stupor that evening.

But Vesemir can see it. And Geralt can too. That shivering tension beneath Eskel's skin, the skittish way he turns at any loud sound, reaching hand closing on air above his shoulder; the fastidious organisation of his belongings and his militant application to warming up in the courtyard. Eskel doesn't feel safe. He needs reminding that there's nothing up here anymore. Nothing worth the time of the zealots and thugs that levelled his home. There is no burden for him to shoulder. He doesn't need to. No more than any of them.

There's no point pushing it in the first few weeks. Eskel will clam up and shrug it off. That big, booming laugh as he jokes his way out with a dry riposte shattering any hope of progress. Geralt bides his time. The comfortable bed and lack of action to keep Eskel occupied will wear him down enough to start faltering, to start dabbing at his scars, looking lost. A crack in the hardened armour. And only then does Geralt elbow him in the armoury one morning, "Bath tonight?"

It's not a normal bath. They bathe every night. Vesemir insists because it doesn't take long for the communal areas to start smelling like wet dog and stale sweat if they don't. But the routine is a quick and cursory scrub in a shallow tub before the cold gets to their nethers. This bath will be different.

Geralt spends the afternoon filling the largest basin with water. The communal one that used to be maintained by bastion boys and long rusted pipes. He hauls ass 'til the water is deep, and then he tips in salts and a few faint perfumes that he picked up from Ban Ard on his way up.

Geralt stokes the two big fires high, careful to replace all the firewood he's used from the yard to avoid Vesemir's bellyaching. By the time everything's ready, he stinks worse than Lambert after stable duty and has to peel his clothes off before climbing jnto the water, reheating it with a quick pop of igni. He lounges back, enjoys the lap of the water over his skin, the way sensitive scars prickle and muscles loosen. He almost misses Eskel's arrival in the doorway, but he can always feel Eskel's presence in the world around him. It's like a gods-damned earthly magnetism.

Geralt opens his eyes and watches Eskel hesitate in the doorway. Eskel's gaze flickers from the fires, to the tub, to the salts still propped up on a side table. He fiddles with his fingers and the hem of his shirt. One last step, one tiny hurdle. "Gonna get in or admire me all night?" Geralt asks softly, careful to maintain the jokey lilt of their standard exchange. For now.

Eskel's eyebrows twitch up, and then he grins. There's no witty clapback but it has the desired effect. Eskel strips off, folding his clothes on a wonky old stool. Geralt's cock twitches to life at the mere sight of Eskel standing at the edge of the room, bronze skin highlighted in a flickering halo of candle and firelight. The thick pelt of dark hair, the pink scars criss-crossing over his arms, his chest, his plush belly. Those amber eyes that flash in the shadows as Eskel turns back to the bath. Eyes that were usually framed by crow's feet, smile lines, now worried, unsure.

"C'mon, Eskel," Geralt says, lifting his hands from the water to beckon Eskel towards him. One more step. One more decision. And then he would be safe. This was their way of turning the lock on the Path; Eskel's way to let the walls fall and his heart free. He had to let Geralt hold him. Had to pass the control over to someone he trusted if he was to let it go.

Eskel's legs barely cooperate as he negotiates the lip of the tub, and he stumbles through the water until he eventually drops to his knees. Geralt's legs flop open, and he gestures again, insistent. C'mon, just a little further, wolf.

Eskel crawls forward and finally, finally, melts against Geralt's chest. Geralt hears the first shuddering sigh as one of his mental anchors falls loose; feels the flutter of Eskel's eyelashes against the side of his neck as his eyes struggle to stay open.

Geralt encircles his broad shoulders and holds him close. The steam from the water has already dampened Eskel's hair, but Geralt buries his nose in it anyway. Eskel shivers, once, twice, until he is shaking gently in Geralt's arms; a year's worth of tension and pain unspooling into the water with each subtle tremor. Geralt feels something loosen in his own chest. He knows that this is as important for him as it is for Eskel. The tentative opening of his heart to care for a loved one, comfortable in the knowledge that he will not be rebuffed or scorned. Kaer Morhen is the one place now where it is safe for witchers to have feelings.

Geralt cups Eskel's jaw and tilts his head up. He searches for Eskel's mouth, kisses beside his eye, the scars on his cheek, and then his lips with deliberate care, worshipping each part. He can feel Eskel's heartbeat hitch, his breath catch in his throat.

Eskel struggles with kisses still, even after all this time. If he overstretches it hurts his face, so Geralt sets the pace and winds a wet hand through Eskel's hair. He can feel grasping fingers, a coiling tension return; Eskel's desperate to please, to earn his place in Geralt's heart. Like he earns his keep at Kaer Morhen, bearing the weight of the roof and the legacy on his broad shoulders. Their time together isn't about that. Geralt tugs Eskel away, brushes their noses together, and urges Eskel onto his back.

Eskel turns without a fuss, but it takes a little coaxing for him to lean back. As tentative about letting Geralt bear his physical weight as he is about the emotional. "Easy," Geralt whispers, as gently as he would to Roach when the roads are uneven. He and Eskel walk this particular road together every year, and even if Eskel still struggles with the potholes and rocky debris left behind by every contract, Geralt feels surefooted. He knows how to see Eskel safely home. His heart feels light with the glorious purpose of it; the responsibility of caring for someone so strong.

Eskel leans back, eyes flickering closed as Geralt's fingers brush up the arch of his throat. His own hands hover uneasily, searching for something to do, a use. Or perhaps just an anchor. Geralt reaches up and winds their fingers together, bringing Eskel's hand down to rest on his own thigh. "I've got you, Wolf."

Geralt feels rooted, settled, in a way he hasn't all year. He cradles Eskel against him and basks in the glow of trust, of love, as Eskel's body eases. Fitfully at first of course, each shuddering breath yielding a little more tension, until Eskel is blissfully heavy. Geralt traces the arch of his throat, the bottom of those scars; terrain more familiar to him than the uneven flagstones of the grand hall.

Eskel's body warms, responding to Geralt's scent and heat with arousal. It ebbs and flows in the peacefulness, neither of them too concerned with finding a peak, an end. They have all winter for that. This is about being, about existing together in precious quiet. No expectations, no weight to bear but to trust and be trusted. Such a thing was as easy for them now as breathing, with Eskel relinquishing the last of his unease into the water and Geralt gladly holding them both. Geralt knows Eskel's floating, can feel every change of pulse, every twitch, every sigh. His entire world is the man in his arms and he revels in it, high on the precious burden that is his to carry. A burden he dreams of all year that no one else trusts him to carry; Eskel would call it a burden, after all, but Geralt sees it as a gift.

They doze, they drift together...

Later, they'll make love in Eskel's bed, with teeth and laughter and furious passion, joking and teasing as ruthlessly as they did in the training yard. But for now, they are content to bask in the peace and sanctity of each other.

[smallraindrops-blog]

Made To Break

Part two.

4k

Warning: noncon/dubcon sex, yandere, talk of death. No beta. Read at your own risk.

Note: never wrote something like this before. Hope it was worth wait. Let me know if you like it! Enjoy!

Time dragged on, especially without your phone. You watched the clock, not able to pay attention to anything else.

The house felt different without the god inside. Your gut had been right the first night, he had been here the whole time.

You still regretted returning Hypnos his cloak, it was the only thing keeping you warm in the drafty house. 

You debated trying to escape but you held off. Where would you even go? There was no one else who could help. Even if Hypnos was keeping you trapped, he could be the key to getting your dad back.

Also you're pretty sure Hypnos would follow you to the end of the world and then some. 

Maybe if you just play along for now, you could show him the truth later when the spell doesn't work on you and he would be forced to admit you weren't the one he was looking for. 

"Just one more day." You told yourself. 

That's what Hypnos told you, "And when time gets close to twilight, make sure you are by his side." He said, locking his cloak in place.

You agreed, "Is there anything else I could do?"

Hypnos grinned, and tapped his lip, "How about a kiss good-bye?"

You rolled your eyes at him even though you were charmed by his cheekiness and shook your head. You knew that if you responded to his flirting, it would make the letdown worse.

"Oh well, can't blame a guy for trying." Hypnos said before he vanished before your eyes. 

You had a sinking feeling of realizing that you wouldn't have been able to outrun him.

💮

It was in the middle of night during another round of tossing and turning when you realized something wasn't right. 

There was a humming under your skin, like little jolts of energies that never stop moving. 

Maybe you couldn't fall asleep due to stress or maybe you got used to Hypnos being around. He was the god of sleep, he must have played some role in helping you rest. 

You crawled out of your bed and went to the window and stared out to the backyard. Little red poppies stood out from the blanket of snow, gently swaying in the wind. 

Magic was real and Hypnos was as well, he felt human when you touched him. His grief when he talked about his lover sounded real. And he seemed hellbent making sure not to lose you.

Is it really that impossible that you were someone in a past life, a deity even? It sounded like something out of the fantasy books you read as a child.

You pressed your forehead against the cold glass, an welcomed sensation. You didn't want to admit it. Not to yourself at all. 

But something in you has changed or is changing you just don't know what yet. 

You just hope you don't lose yourself in the process.

💮

You were in line for coffee when the thought came. It was some honey glazed  pastry you just happened to notice and thought  'Hypnos would love that especially with his sweet tooth.' 

You froze, how in the world would you know that? You don't even know if the god could or want to eat. 

You rubbed your eyes, it was the lack of sleep you told yourself.

You got to the hospital at the end of dusk, a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in hand. You took a big bite, trying to finish it before getting to the elevator.

It was early but you wanted to be here, even if Hypnos couldn't help, you wanted to at least be with your dad for what time he had left. 

You slipped the coffee, grateful for the warmth. After getting in the elevator, you tabbed your foot nervously. Even the last bite of the sandwich couldn't calm your stomach. 

You almost didn't see them when you stepped out, had you not glanced to the left you would have never seen them at all.

"Mrs. Johnson?" You asked, even in your anger at your ex, you still liked their mom. She mothered everyone and she always made sure to have your favorite cookies when you visited. She turned to face you, her blonde pixie hair was unkempt. Her red and puffy eyes widened in surprise. You tossed the coffee in the trash can as you made your way over. 

"Oh my god, Y/N?" Mrs.Johnson sniffed, "Are you here to visit?" Even her voice sounded rough.

Your heart dropped, "For my dad, I don't know if they told you but he is in a coma right now." 

"Oh honey. I'm so sorry, I didn't know." She hugged you tightly, her rose perfume was a comfortable smell in the hospital. She took your hands, her tears still flowing. You tried not to roll your eyes, of course your ex wouldn't even care enough to tell their mom, the sweetest person ever.

"Why are you here?" You asked worried for the poor woman.

"Something happened to (Ex/N), they were out partying and I don't know. Their roommate thinks they hit their head and haven't woken up since. It's the oddest thing, they couldn't even find where the brain bleed was. Or any marks." She shook her head, "it doesn't feel real."

You gasped, not able to make sense of her words. "Like they just went to sleep?" You asked, feeling like you've been dropped in ice. 

She nodded, not saying anything.

"How long ago?"

"Two days or so, late during the night." She replied, she didn't notice the dread on your face. Did Hypnos use your phone? You had a feeling he was the one who took it but there was so much going on you had forgotten about it.

"Can I see them?" You asked, you need to see with your own eyes. Surely, this had to be a coincidence.

"Of course, hon." 

💮

You had fully planned on never seeing your ex again. You kept meaning to block them but You weren't ready yet because you didn't want to admit you wasted your time.

You stared down at them, at the tubes, at the heart rate monitor. And You knew (Ex/N) was paying the price for your inability to block them. 

You didn't love them, not in a way a person should love another you think. But you cared for them and wanted them to be happy. It wasn't until the cheating started, that it got bad.

Mrs. Johnson sat down in the chair and held their child's hand. Her face showed her heartbreak and every time there was twitch, there would be a hopeful look in her eyes only for it to die when nothing happened.

It was just like your father's coma.

You closed your eyes, anger boiling inside your chest. At yourself more so than Hypnos.

How could you been so stupid?

💮

You stared outside the window. It was the first clear day in weeks and the blue skies with the fat, lazy clouds seemed so more vivid than you remember. 

Your father's heart monitor beeped steady and true. You couldn't look at him, guilt and anger was warring in your chest.

You had brought in the story Hypnos weaved for you. You didn't know how much was truth or lies. You think it was a healthy mix of both and it made it so much harder to know what really happened. 

You covered your face with your hands, trying to make sure the tears didn't come out. 

How could You get out of this? You saw some of Hypnos' powers, and you knew that it was the tip of the iceberg. 

You couldn't stop thinking about the book, the warnings that you didn't see. This was a god that had once put the world to sleep, and you couldn't see a reason why he wouldn't again if he didn't get what he wanted.

it felt more cruel that he was playing games with your life, with all their lives. It would have been kinder to just kidnap you and leave everyone else out of it. 

You looked up at the clock, just a few more hours left to go. 

You really wished you brought your bat. 

💮

Twilight was beautiful, even with the city skyline. You paced around the room, waiting for a change or for him to show up. 

You almost didn't notice, too deep in your anger.  

Your father's hand twitched, and you paused, not wanting to get your hopes up. Then his head turned to the side and you rushed to him.

"Dad! Oh my god, dad." You touched his arm gently, not wanting to spook him. His eyes opened up groggily, his head turned to you. He didn't react to seeing you but you weren't worried. 

"I will be right back, I'm getting a nurse." You rushed out, giddy with relief. 

💮

He doesn't remember you.

Your own father doesn't remember you. 

You collapsed in the chair, the doctor tried to calm you down but you couldn't hear anything over the buzzing in your ears.

You knew. You just knew this was Hypnos' doing. Your hands tighten into shaky fists on your knees. 

How fucking dare he do this. You gave him a chance and this is what he does.

Without a word, you stormed out the room.

💮

 

You don't remember getting in the car or the drive home. You knew Hypnos would be waiting for you.

He wasn't going to stop, you could feel in your bones. He would do to you in every single life you live and he won't care the cost it will take.

You slammed the car door shut, not brothing to hide your presence. You stood in the cold, uncaring how bitting the wind felt against your skin. Snow was still on the ground and little red poppies peeked through, bright against the snow. 

Your breath came out in white puffs as you stared at your home. For all you knew this would be the last time you ever see it. 

You took a deep breath, gathering what strength you had left. 

It was time to face the music. To face him.

💮

You stopped in the entryway, not wanting to get closer than you had too. You could see even in the dark that the books were gone as well as the horrible eye and words. The one thing that lit the room was a single candle on the side table.

You looked at the other walls and saw pictures of you had been taken down. Fear tightened your throat and you stepped into the living room. Your eyes darted around but there was no sign of Hypnos. 

You stepped into the living room and after a moment, you walked to your bedroom.

You whimpered when you opened the door. Everything was gone. The bed, the desk, all of it. 

You took a step backward and another without looking away from your room. 

Your heart stopped when you bumped into a warm chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly and his cheek pressed to your head.

"It's time to come home, Y/N." Hypnos said, tightening his hold to the point you couldn't breathe. Or scream as you watched the world you once knew vanished.

💮

You kicked and twisted in Hypnos' arms. "Let me go." You gasped, "I can't get air, please." 

He loosened his hold but you were too busy gulping for air to care. You pushed away from and he allowed you to, unconcerned about you escaping. 

You tried to steady yourself only to stumble, Hypnos grabbed your elbow. 

"I'm sorry I forgot it takes some getting used to." Hypnos said. "You should have seen my brother the first few times. He used to get sick all the time."

"Don't touch me." You snapped, jerking away.  You've been here before, the sound of water rushed to your ears. You turned to face him, to tear him a new one but when you saw him, you were shocked into silence.

Hypnos smiled, and pointed at his head. Two white wings had appeared out from his head and in the middle of his forehead, a single red and gold eye stared back. "So tell me Y/N, what is more surprising; the wings or the eye?"

You shook your head, "What the hell, Hypnos?" Your voice cracked. "Is this what you normally look like?" At least before he looked closer to humans, just a little odd looking. This was something else.

"Hhm, not when we first met but after the... you know, I just have these sometimes." Hypnos shrugged, his golden eyes on you. 

"How could you?" You asked and Hypnos tilted his head at the question. 

You took a step forward even though all you wanted to do was run. "I know what you did to my dad, to (Ex/N). Was it all a ruse? A game to you?"

Hypnos scowled, "I really don't appreciate hearing that name." 

You stamped your foot, "Unbelievable! Is that all you have to say?" 

"Oh no, the person who hurt someone I love is now having to suffer the consequences. How sad for them." Hypnos rolled his eyes at you. You have never wanted to choke someone more.

"His mother is suffering, just like how my dad is!" You yelled, hating how helpless you felt.

You walked closer, you knew he could grab you again but you needed him to listen. But Hypnos spoke before you.

"Your father isn't in pain, if anything I fixed it. He doesn't remember you or his wife. He will live out the rest of his days without you but you know humans are so quick to replace family." 

Hypnos sighed, "I really did try to help him for your sake, Y/N. I felt sorry for him since he and I were both familiar with this kind of pain. But he already messed up once, I couldn't trust him not to try something else." 

You were silent for minutes before you spoke. "You said you would never hurt me."

"And I haven't." Hypnos replied, he almost moved closer, wanting to comfort you.

"Liar." You spat out the word. "You have done nothing but hurt me since you showed up." 

You glared at him,"You may have not touched me but you had caused so much hurt to everyone around me."

"And what makes you think I should even care about those humans?" Hypnos hissed, he grabbed your arm but you willingly went along with his tug. Words were your weapons now. You glared up at him, mere inches between you and him.

"Because I do. That should be more than enough for you." You licked your lips, "This isn't the first time we had this fight." 

His gaze sharpen, golden and hard like a predator. "No it isn't." Hypnos agreed. 

You could tell he wanted to ask more questions, to know exactly what you started to remember. Good. 

"I had held my part, Hypnos. I agreed to come, to do whatever you needed from me." You said, "in a twisted way, yeah I guess you did help my dad even if it hurt me. And you warned me."  You closed your eyes for a moment before meeting his again.

Hypnos stayed silent, his eyes watching you.

"But none of the other stuff had to happen. Mrs.Johnson was good to me, she was the closest thing I had to a mom." You whispered. 

You didn't know how but something in the humming inside of you knew Hypnos would bend to you. His biggest weakness had always been you.

You laid a hand on his chest, "Listen to me, I'm willing to stay. I want to stay." You thought it would sound like lying but it didn't. Your heart twisted because you weren't lying and you knew it. 

Was it really that easy to walk away from your human life? 

"But I can't have you hurting people just for the sake of revenge. That is not who I am and that used to be you too." You murmured.

"Things changed Y/N." Hypnos murmured back. Just like before, he covered your hand gently. 

A faint memory rises from the depths of your soul. Of Hypnos admiring your hands, always touching or holding them. You took a breath, not yet you thought to this other side of yourself, not yet.

"Then change again, Hypnos. For me." You pleaded. 

"It's not that easy." But his tone was softer, you just had to push a little more. 

"You once put the whole world asleep because you loved me. You became softer, kinder because you loved me. This is nothing to you." You keep your tone soft, not willing to break the quiet.

His eyes, all three of them, closed in defeat. "Okay...Okay Y/N. Just answer me this, do you love them?" 

"No." You said bluntly. "They were a friend once but even though you were a jerk, I felt more with you than I ever did with them."

Hypnos nodded, the third eye opened again while his golden ones stayed close. "Good." He held a palm up, and a small dark, almost black mist formed, you could faintly see your ex and Mrs. Johnson. 

The mist swirls quickly, and it changes into a soft white cloud. "It's done. They will wake up, and they will live." The cloud faded away and Hypnos dropped his hand. 

His golden eyes opened and looked at you. 

"Thank you."  You told him. You cupped his cheek and he pressed into your hand with a sigh, his eyes closing again. "Darkness' sake, I've missed you." Hypnos said. 

You leaned into him and hugged him. After a moment, he hugged back, resting his chin on your head. Neither one of you said anything for a while, just holding on each other.

"What do you remember, Y/N?" Hypnos asked, and you shrugged. "Honestly, just small bits here and there. I remembered you like honey."

Hypnos hummed, "I do. Is that all?" 

You yawned, "No, sorry, it's mostly just me going by instinct or this feeling of deja Vu." You pressed into his chest. "I'm really sorry."

Hypnos rubbed your back slowly and you felt your body relax against his. This was so much nicer than anything you ever felt before.

"Come, let me show you where we can get some rest." Hypnos spoke, something was off about his tone.  But you followed along anyway, too tired to even think.

💮

"You said anything, right?" Hypnos asked as you wandered around the cave. There wasn't much of anything. You see baskets of pomegranates, onions and other stuff in one room as Hypnos gilded you past it, his hand on your lower back. 

Books were stacked on a desk but weren't what caught your attention. There was a bed, big and piled high with blankets and pillows. It looks like what exactly a god of sleep would want. 

"Oh wow, this is the biggest bed I've ever seen." You walked toward it, "What side do you sleep on?"

You walked around the bed, keeping one eye on the god. "The middle but you can pick whatever side you want." 

"O-oh." You stopped at the realization that of course this would be the only bed. There would be no reason for him to have a guest bed.

"You didn't respond to my question, Y/N. You agreed to do whatever I needed you to do, correct?" Hypnos said calmly as he held something in his hand. A small glass bottle. 

You walked toward him, your heart racing at the almost predatory look he gave you. 

"I. I did, yes, to get my memories back." You stopped just out of his reach. "Will that thing help?" You pointed down at the bottle

"In a way." He said and you stared at him. 

"What are you not telling me, Hypnos?" You stood your ground. "I thought we were getting past this."

"You're right. It's going to hurt, just a bit. But it will help restore you." Hypnos held it up between his fingers, inside the liquid looked like water. 

"Why do I feel like you're downplaying it?" You muttered. You took the bottle and popped open the cork. 

You sniffed but it smells sweet, almost too sweet. 

"Make sure you get every last drop, Y/N." Hypnos said, his golden eyes watching your every move.

You knew he wasn't being honest about something but you will have to deal with it later. 

"Well, bottom up." You swallow every last drop. It didn't taste bad or anything at all, not even like water. 

You felt his hands on you could do anything else. He pushed toward the bed and that when it hit you. A wave of dizziness made the room spend and he laid you down.

"Oh, I don't like this." You moaned. You didn't notice until it was too late, that he had pulled off your shirt. His hands felt too warm against your skin and you tried to push him off. 

"I know, my love." Hypnos comforted, "I wouldn't do it if I didn't need to." 

"Why?" You slurred, "I thought we were…" but you couldn't continue.  The heat and the dizziness was too much for you.

"We are. We really are. But If I don't do this now, I won't get a chance until you are older and I can't risk you dying on me."

"I wouldn't have said no." You closed your eyes.

Hypnos pressed a kiss against your forehead tenderly "Yes, you would have, my love. You would want us to have more time. This way I can make sure we will have nothing but time."

His hand slided down your pants and past your underwear. He kissed you on your mouth, and pressed down against you. 

You couldn't stop the gasps you made against his mouth as he rubbed you with his fingers. The pleasure you felt was far more intense than what you were used to.

"You even respond the same as you used to." Hypnos told you. "Blood and darkness, I could watch your face all day like this." 

You hide your face in a nearby pillow out of spite and embarrassment. "Shut up." You moaned, hips arching against his touch.

Hypnos yanked the pillow away and tossed it out of your reach. He grabbed your chin to kiss you again. You met his kiss with as much force as you could. 

"I hate you." You tried to pull away but he just pulled you back into another one. You could the heat building inside you along with the humming, the always moving energy built inside of you 

And Hypnos himself consumed you,all of you and you wanted him to. Fates help you but you did. You wanted him to make you whole. 

You moaned against his lips, tears running down your face as you arched and peaked. 

You collapsed against the bed, Hypnos pressed kisses against your neck and collarbone. 

You closed your eyes, shaking with the heat. "Hypnos, what did you give me?" You sobbed. The heat nor energy still haven't died down yet. 

"Just gimme a moment, Y/N." Hypnos pulled away from the bed, and you sobbed again. 

He came back and shushed you. His hand pulled down your pants, yanking your shoes along off them. You flushed at your nudity. 

Hypnos loomed over you and he pulled you into a kiss. You buried your hands in his white curls as the kiss deepened. His knees nudged your legs apart as he broke the kiss. 

"If I have to be nude, so do you." You tugged at his cloak. Hypnos laughed, "No, later."

His fingers worked you open and you found yourself spreading your legs more.

"You're so good, so so gorgeous. Y/N, do you know how good you look like this?" Hypnos priaised. And you somehow just flushed even more. 

His fingers left you and he crawled toward you. "Kiss me." He demanded and you obeyed, the kiss you gave him was sweet and slow. He hummed against your lips and you felt him pushed inside you. 

Your head tilt back to the bed with a gasp. You shook as the moment seem to stretch out, a endless moment of being taken.

You never felt so full and damnit, you hated how good he felt against you. The soft clothes gave you goosebumps as the brush against your bare skin. You sobbed as he moved inside you leisurely, like he had all the time in world. 

"Hypnos, please." You begged. Your fingers curled against his tunic, trying to ground yourself against the feelings.

He shushed you, "I've been waiting for you for so long." 

"I'm sorry, Hypnos." You whimpered as pleasure built back inside of you. 

"Don't be." Hypnos groaned, his hips started moving quicker. "Losing you killed me, Y/N. I never thought I would have this again."

You were lost for words and just pulled him into another kiss, hoping that it will say everything for you. 

During the kiss, his hips snapped against you quickly, fingers digging into your thighs.  

"I love you Y/N. Fuu- I love you." Hypnos murmured against you. In a whisper, "I love you, Hypnos." 

He moaned and you feel the hot wetness inside you. You trembled as you followed him. 

You stared upward and the humming had become overwhelming. This was it, you thought weakly. 

You don't remember closing your eyes.

💮

Later you wake up, Hypnos sleeping next to you and holding you tightly. He looked so much younger like this. 

You could remember everything. The people, your role as an deity, Hypnos, of loving him and he loving you in return and... and your death.

You grimaced as you rubbed your chest, you could feel the sharp burning pain. Of magic that kept from dying like a normal deity.

But now you were reborn in a way.

There was strength in you too now. A sureness you didn't have an human. You blinked at Hypnos' sleeping face. The third eye was gone but you wasn't sure what it meant exactly. You both were going to have relearn one another. 

You reached up and touched one of the wings. It twitched at your touch, and you smiled, amused. 

"I missed your smile." Hypnos said, his voice rough with sleep."I think it worked, Y/N." His golden eyes studied your face. You stared back. 

Then you reached up and flicked him on the nose. "You should've been honest from the start." You said.

"Ow! And I was, it's not like it was my fault humans won't listen." Hypnos scowled at you.

"Not that. About restoring me. I understand why you wouldn't be but you need to more honest with me from now on. Especially since I know it cost you some of your powers." You said as you pulled Hypnos closer. Tears had filled up in both of yours and Hypnos' eyes.

"Thank you. For bring me back. I felt something was missing in me since I was born but you found it. You found me." You  kissed him, chaste and sweet. 

Hypnos sobbed and held on to you tightly, his face in your neck. "It worked. It really worked." 

You kissed his head, your tears matching his. The both of you weeped with joy, with sadness and relief of having each other again.

"I'm so sorry. It was my fault. I should had gotten there sooner." Hypnos said roughly. 

"It was no one fault, we didn't know." You brush his curls to smooth him. "I don't blame you."

He nodded against your neck and you held him. 

After a few minutes, he pulled away to look at you. His hands cupped your face. You cover his hands with your own, smiling.

"I still haven't told you everything." He said softly. 

"That can wait." You murmured. "We got all the time in the world." 

"We finally do, huh?" Hypnos said, and you meet him a long, slow kiss.

It was good to be home.

[mightymorphingayagenda]

cant wait for lethal combination chapter 5! and loved the holiday nessian fic you wrote!

then you shan’t have to wait! and thank you so much, nonnie. the fic they’re talking about and all previous chapters of lethal combo can be found here,  x

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.” 

Nesta kept her gaze on the wall of oak opposite her.  

“Is this the part where I tell you to get on your knees for me?” She asked.  

Humourless. 

And she could practically feel the feral rage radiating from him. Bleeding through the grate to her left like he were trying to smoke her out.  

“This is the part where you-“ 

“Shhh.” 

A lean shadow, a head of auburn hair, muted in the darkness like the decayed verdure of autumn, barely distinguishable through the latticed window no bigger than her hand.  

She’d made Eris wait almost a day.  

In Nesta’s experience teenage girls understood psychological warfare better than any CIA types she’d met. And rule one in the handbook was never call him back right away.  

Eris might as well have been a cute boy from home room, the advice stood fast.  

She’d also chosen the time and place for their meeting, giving no concessions in authority. Picking the church as unlike her he’d inherited both the egregious wealth of his family and their faith. Irish Catholic. Meaning he’d find himself here every Sunday evening regardless, and providing not only the guise of normality, but the cosy anonymity of a confessional.  

The only people who did secrecy better than assassins, were the Catholics.  

It was perfect really, the perfect plan. Undistracted Nesta had been able to work it out pretty quickly after Cassian had left. Leaving her all those hours between four in the morning and her meeting the following evening with nothing to do but hate him.  

Avoiding returning to the bed he’d screwed her in. Glaring at his jacket which still hung beside her front door over a bottle of vodka.  

It was a blow to her pride to be sure. The closest thing to rejection she’d ever received from a man. Whatsmore, some gooey part of her she’d pushed down had been upset.  

Too worked up to sleep she’d spent hours tucked into her armchair and entertaining plucking his teeth from his mouth like the petals of a rose. He loves me, he loves me not. Because worse than revealing himself to be a complete ass as most men did, Cassian had done so subsequent to fucking her better than she could have dreamed. And she’d had that dream. Multiple times.  

Wet dreams that couldn’t hold a candle to the way he’d had her dripping down to her knees, begging for his cock, trembling on legs he’d thrown over his shoulder to lick out her cunt like it was the reason he got out of bed in the morning. The man had spoilt her rotten.  

Nesta knew she probably shouldn’t have been thinking about sex in a church. Her mother was likely burning with a fury hotter than the flames that surrounded her down below, but she couldn’t help it. Because while she hated the sinner- ever bronze buffed, tattooed inch of him - god did she love the sin.  

“The adult is going to talk,” she said quietly. “If you want to throw a tantrum you can do it on your own time because as of this moment, I’m officially off the clock.”  

Eris’ silence said he knew better than to interrupt her. Perhaps he was smarter than she was about to give him credit for.  

“In fact I stopped working for you as of the moment you chose to question my methods and profess concerns that I may have jeopardised our venture because I lack the professionalism to keep my legs shut,” she said.  

“So if you want Helion Day neutralised, you’re going to have to find someone else to do the job. Though I seriously doubt you’ll be able to.” 

Cue phase two of the plan.  

Because she may have hated Cassian, but she wanted the monopoly on causing him emotional anguish.  

Like hell some other pro was going to put a bullet between Helion’s eyes and devastate his bodyguard. Making that man cry was Nesta’s prerogative. 

“I have made it clear to anyone in my field you might attempt to solicit that you are a impertinent, trust fund brat, who insists on micromanaging the work of other’s despite your incompetence in an attempt to feel important beyond the breeding mummy lied and told you made you special.” 

“I wasn’t aware you also specialised in character assassination.” 

Eris’ voice was charred with a sweetness like wealth; earthy and rich it reminded Nesta of muscovado sugar.  

He was right. She was being unprofessional. But she was tired and hungover and out of a gorgeous lay so fuck him.  

“My specialities are no longer any of your business, Mr Vanserra,” she replied. “My displeasure however, should be of great concern to you.”  

“Is that a threat?” 

“I wouldn’t do you the courtesy of warning you if I intended to kill you.” 

Eris said nothing.  

“You can consider it incentive if it helps you sleep at night though,” Nesta continued.  “To do as you’re told.” 

She gave him strict instructions.  Wait five minutes then leave. Never contact me.  Forget we were ever in correspondence in the first place.   

“Murder is cheap, Mr Vanserra. You don’t want to learn the cost of disobeying me. It’s not the kind of thing daddy’s wallet can cover.” 

She emerged from the confessional, slim shades obscuring her eyes and the deep bruises beneath. Her heels clipping against the stone floor as she made her way toward the station of votive candles at the back of the church.  

Each glowing stick a prayer for a lost loved one. Matches and and a few unlit offerings still available.  

She lit herself a cigarette on a flame.  

And Nesta couldn’t have missed the fresco above those colossal doors of oak and rustic gold flake even through the plumes of smoke that curled upwards as she stalked lazily down the isle:  a depiction of the Heavenly Father himself.  

She didn’t bother flicking a glance behind her to the confessional.  

Who’s your daddy, now?  

- 

She’d collapsed face down into already rumpled sheets.  

They’d smelled like sex and heaven and she’d smelt like cigarettes and a church and that was all she knew before the exhaustion caught up with her, the world went black, and she was waking up in exactly the same position . Vex’s fluffy tail swishing against her ear. The tickling sensation plucking her from the bliss of pure nothingness.  

Nesta groaned a little as she rolled over and pulled herself to sit up. Pleased to find she’d had the energy to take off her clothes. Unlike her makeup.  

“Damn it,”  she hissed as she saw the smudged mascara on the pillow.  

Not that the sheets didn’t need washing anyway… 

“Ugh,” she huffed, dropping flat onto her back again.  

She’d been awake less then seven seconds and a man had already ruined her day. Just thinking about him…  

“Ugh,” she said again, louder.  Like she was angry with the ceiling for not acknowledging her the first time. 

Vex meowed, his little head nudging at her bare arm. As though he were trying to coax her bra strap back up to a respectable position on her shoulder.  

“Hi, baby,” she grumbled, picking him up for a cuddle. “You hungry?” 

He meowed again.  

Padding down to the kitchen she’d made them both breakfast (technically lunch, she’d slept in till almost one) and carrying her plate of fruit back upstairs to draw a bubble bath he winded between her ankles, catching her attention as he hissed at something in the living room.  

“What?” she inquired, looking down at him before tilting her head to follow his own.  

Cassian’s jacket.  

Uhg.  

Now she was thinking about him again.  

Childish, dumb, insecure little prick. How he’d had the fucking nerve to call her a coward was truly a mystery.  

He was so crippled by that fear of not being good enough he’d immediately presumed she wanted rid of him. Lashing out defensively- God he was infuriating.  

She looked back to Vex who was now staring up at her. “If that thing somehow ends up on the floor,” she said, “you have permission to piss on it”. 

He purred.  

Vex truly was the only boy worth his salt. Something he proved yet again in hopping atop her bathroom counter and guarding her like a fluffy little gargoyle as she sank into the bath.  Opening m the window to let out the smoke of her cigarette so as not to bother him.  The sound of rain slipping something comforting through the January chill, twirls of smoke and steam visible in fatigued plumes.  

Another lethal habit she’d picked up from Aunt Ripleigh.  

The thought gave her an unpleasant feeling in her heart. Like a worm writhing in the rotted meat of an apple.  

Ripleigh wasn’t actually her aunt. But Nesta avoided her much like she did the rest of her family and that was what really counted. Besides, spilling blood together arguably made for a closer bond than just sharing it.  

Like Nesta said, not really her aunt.  

Aunt Ripleigh – initials AR, an homage to the assassin’s preferred weapon the AR-47, American hybrid of the Russian Автома́т Кала́шников, A.K.A the AK-47.  

Some mothers left their little girls pearls, or scrapbooks packed with baby pictures and the lingering scent of their perfume. Angelina Archeron had left her’s a Mafia assassin’s cell number.  

Of course Nesta hadn’t known that.  

Not until she’d found herself with her hands caked in something dark and sticky, her boyfriend’s skin stuffed beneath the lip of her nails and a taste in her mouth like hot rust.  

She’d been seventeen the first time she’d killed a man.  

Not a man. A boy.  

A few months her senior, Thomas been a child just like her.  

Her first crush. Her first boyfriend, her first love, and her first.  

Nesta had known Thomas was using her for sex.  Just as she’d been using him for his money, and wasn’t that what love was? Finding the gratification of your needs in someone else? In Thomas’s case he’d needed to get his dick wet.  In Nesta’s…it was more than embarrassing but half the time all she’d needed was a hot meal.  

She couldn’t count the number of times she’d called him in the dead of the night to hook up in his Porsche so she could sleep there instead of at home, where the windows screamed freezing air from their shattered mouths and the electricity bill was rarely paid.  

But one night Nesta hadn’t felt like earning his kindness. And so he hadn’t offered it. 

Instead he’d held her wrists, ripped at her shirt, forced his hands into her jeans. Pushed up against the bonnet of that Porsche by a lake in woods she’d torn through his face, her nails splitting through the waterline beneath his eyes as she’d kicked and screamed, blood pouring, his hand on her neck, throwing her head against the wing mirror. Heat spilling heavy down her jaw and neck from somewhere which had smelt like lose change.  

She remembers blood in her eyes and the taste of soft, smooth skin and a kind of rubbery strength between her teeth as she’d bit down hard until something had popped or burst or split with a squirt or a tear. She remembers spitting out whatever of Thomas’s ear she’d torn off between her teeth and something swinging into her lower ribs so hard one broke. She remembers the sounds that had been both of them and then at some point just her. 

Her screaming.  

Her sticky, disgusting face, stinging with every horribly wet sob and shriek. The shrieks that hadn’t choked to shaky breaths until she’d pulled herself to sit back against the wheel of the car. Clutching at her ribs which had only hurt so much worse when she’d thrown up right next to her boyfriend’s body.  What looked like a pint of blood glowing in the dust. His face…his head.  

It’d looked like a Halloween prop. Like dark jam. Like a brutalised seventeen year old dead in the dirt.  

And sometime after noticing one of his teeth in the dust, Nesta had realised how fucked she was.  

It wasn’t much of an achievement when you considered Grafton, Vermont had a population short of seven-hundred: but the Mandrays had been quite possibly the most well connected and well off people in its less than seven-hundred square miles.  And despite keeping Nesta’s name out of their sneering mouths through referring to her almost exclusively as “that white-trash bitch”, that population short of seven hundred didn’t give a shit about her.  

Didn’t give a shit she’d been top of her class with a place at Georgetown. Because Nesta could never have afforded to accept it.   

And it certainly didn’t matter she was a pageant queen when everyone knew the petty cash prizes were the only thing that paid the rent on their shitty one bedroom. Especially with things barely breaking even.  In spite of Feyre’s making use of their father’s rifle and sourcing for the butcher any chance she could.  

A too skinny child in the woods with a gun and blood in her braids.  

Nesta’s efforts to keep food on the table had always seemed to pale in comparison to that. But she’d never felt bad about it. Wouldn’t bother hating herself when everybody else was already doing that for her.  

Nesta Archeron was the cheap fuck that nice Mandray boy was messing around with. The gold digger with the dead commie mom and daddy issues. 

No one would have ever believed he’d tried to rape her.  

And she’d had no money for a decent lawyer- she hadn’t even had anyone to call. Not her dad, not a fourteen-year old Feyre nor Elain, sixteen and the last person she’d ever want wrapped up in something like this.  

Nesta had been desperate and vulnerable and jaded for as long as she could remember but she’d never felt as terrified and broken as she had in that moment. Crying alone and hugging herself tightly, she’d just wanted her mom. As cold and neglectful and dead as the woman was.  

“три три два пять семь девять пять шесть три восемь” 

 Her mother’s last words.  

 Ten numbers.  

 Nesta had somehow gotten to her feet, only realising Thomas had broken a few of her fingers when she’d tried opening the car door.  All but collapsing inside once she’d managed as she’d fumbled for her phone.  

 “три три два пять семь девять пять шесть три восемь” she’d repeated to herself, voice hoarse and wet and cracking as she’d dialled.  

 Ten numbers. Ten numbers. Ten numbers.  

 Like a phone number.  

 No doubt concussed Nesta had deemed it logical enough.  Her mother’s dying breath a kind of atonement for leaving her children with nothing in the whole word but a father that could watch his girls starve and go into the woods with his hunting rifle and whore themselves out like they meant nothing.  

 A life-line in the deep waters opaque with clouds of blood.  

 “Здравствуйте.” 

Those three syllables had been like a punch to the gut.  

Nesta had made a noise that might have sounded like “mom?” or the creaking of a damn as it ached under duress. She’d obviously known it wasn’t her mother, but she hadn’t heard a woman speak Russia since- hadn’t heard Russian at all in years.  

“Who is this?”  

Trying to pull herself together Nesta had taken a breath that had rattled, dripping wet and slightly wheezing. Everything was going to be okay. She’d been right. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Of all the phone numbers in the world what was the likelihood that the voice on the end of this one spoke her mother’s native tongue?   

“I’m- I’m Angelina Archeron daughter. She gave me this number I don’t know what to do I-” 

The specifics aren’t as clear after that. Like a jigsaw left out in the rain or soaked in fresh hot blood, the pieces, the details, they’d melted to mush.  

 A mess she’d held in her hands and wondered what the fuck to do with.  

What do you do with a dead body and the knew found knowledge your mother was a boyevik for the Russian Mafia? What do you do with her retirement package which contained nothing but the contact for an assassin working for the New York arm.  

Nesta had only known what she wasn’t going to do.  

Go down for murder.  

Aunt Ripleigh had told her what to do over the phone, instructing her on how to deal with her injuries and Thomas’ pulp of a body.  How to explain the state of her face and ribs and fingers and head. What to do with his car and how to speak and sit and and react when then police came asking questions about Thomas’ disappearance. How to get away with it.  

 Nesta had followed each direction flawlessly.  Consoled in finally having a definitive plan. Even a plan that started with “buy meat cleaver, trash bag, battery powered blender and bucket, with cash from dead boyfriend’s wallet.” Even a plan that got progressively worse from that point on.  

 Filleting chunks of a body that had once been inside her. Hauling a trash bag of boyfriend smoothie to the river with broken fingers.  The thick slop sinking almost immediately just as Aunt Ripleigh had said it would. Before she’d told Nesta to burn the bones and roast marshmallows over them.  

 “If it had not been you it would have been next girl,” Ripleigh had said. “And she might not have had your fight.”  

 “You mean she might not have been disturbed enough to kill her boyfriend?” 

 “Killer instincts, Anastasia. Is not disturbed, is talent,” Aunt Ripleigh had said. “Cannot be taught but what can be taught you learn quick. No whining. Like very good puppy with very sharp teeth.” 

 “Woof,” Nesta had said dryly. 

 “Stray puppy though, no? Is why you have no manners.”

 “You offering to adopt me?” 

 “I have pet already. And my husband is funnier than you.” 

Nesta’s compromised rib had punished her for finding that funny.  

 “But you ever want job, you call me.” 

 Needless to say that was not the last time she’d called Aunt Ripleigh.  

 Three weeks later and four months shy of getting her high school diploma Nesta had turned eighteen and moved to New York in order to “pursue modelling”.  

In reality she was doing coffee runs with a dash more arsenic than normal and luring prosecutors to hotel rooms they’d never leave. A personal assistant of sorts to Aunt Ripleigh.  

She had kept the mafia, the Bratva, at an arms length whenever she’d been able. Paying off the shitty house she’d left her sisters in with one less mouth to feed and not wanting their address in any files accessible to people with skill sets like her’s.  

And while working with Ripleigh had been a mortiferous riot, two gals shattering the glass ceiling in their industry and slitting throats with the shards; Nesta had developed expensive taste from the fringes of high criminal society. She’d cared less about the art of killing than she had about the art she could hang up in a penthouse apartment if she were in private practice.  Her lust for comfort winning out after two years or so at which point she’d gone freelance. Assisting in a few heists before getting in with a crowd of Nazi hunters for a bit, all the while keeping in touch with her mentor.  

Until Feyre had moved to the city.  

 Then she’d given up on the more dangerous antics,  selling out for safer and even more lucrative bets like CEOs and cutting ties with Aunt Ripleigh. Terrified if not a little paranoid of something happening to her sister. Which had been shit.  Because Nesta hadn’t had any other friends. Like, at all.  

 At eighteen Feyre was still as bitter and proud as she’d been when Nesta had left. As Nesta herself still was.  

 Elain had tried bridging her sisters’ relationship once she’d moved to New York but she’d had better success career-wise. Working at a florists before eventually graduating to a self employed wedding planner. 

 Nesta had kept her thoughts on the psychological tells of a girl jilted at the alter becoming a wedding planner to herself. Mostly because Elain was always brining her cake samples she’d stolen and Nesta wasn’t going to sabotage her supply of free cake.  

 Feyre on the other hand had gone about far less conventional means of making a living. The child was a force to be reckoned with if for nothing but her resourcefulness and almost objectionable will to survive. Fiercely independent and clumsily capable she’d taken a crack at everything while selling her art on the side. It was a piece she’d modelled for that had delivered her to true economic grandeur however.  

 Well, “modelled” maybe wasn’t the word. Her sister had essentially been used as a human stamp. Her naked body detailed with intricately painted swirls then pressed to canvas.  

 The work had been showcased somewhere high brow and had caught the eye of one Mr Rhysand Velaris, thirty-one and the sole inheritor of his late father’s worldly possessions. Among which were several millions of dollars.  

 Half of which now belonged to her sister thanks to a very reckless prenup on his part.  

 Though Nesta had briefly wondered if he’d spent at least that on the engagement ring.  A glittering iceberg that seemed to only glare brighter next to the stark black band tattooed just beneath it, a matching tattoo on Rhysand’s own ring finger. Because of course they’d eloped in Paris and gotten tattoos instead of wedding rings. 

 If Nesta had been closer to her baby sister she imagined she might have felt betrayed on some level. But as things were, Nesta wasn’t entirely sure she would have received an invite even if they’d had a traditional wedding, planned to perfection by Elain. 

 It was probably the worst part of her job. The distance she had to put between herself and everyone she had the potential to care about. A distance she could never close even if she decided to retire right this minute because the damage had already been done.  Nesta had become a liability to their safety the minute she’d moved here and started in this line of work.  

 She took another chocolate from the box she’d snatched from downstairs on second thought. Her supply already dwindling thanks to the rather depression freight train of thought she’d embarked on.   

That and the fact they were really very good.  

Cassian may have been a prick, but she couldn’t deny he had great taste.  

In chocolate, and women, she thought smugly.  Sinking deeper into the basin.  

A heat flushed up her neck that had nothing to do with the bath as she unwillingly remembered how he’d softly coaxed one of these lovely little parcels between her full lips. The drunk hunger in his deep brown eyes and what he’d done next, snapping her lace thong between his teeth-  

Her music stopped. Only to be replaced by a buzzing thrum of her phone.  

Leaning forward Nesta checked the caller ID before swiping across the screen to accept the call and sinking back to her earlier position.  

“I’m not in the mood,” she hummed dismissively, head tipped back against the lip of the tub and eyes closing. She’d known this was coming, better to get it over with.  

“When I supply you with handsome, rich, and eligible men, I do not expect you to break them!” Feyre castigated through the phone, and anyone might guess she were the elder sibling.   

Feyre indeed thought herself wiser and more worldly than both Nesta and Elain, and getting married hadn’t helped diminish her false sense of maturity. Thrusting her character into some weird sarcastic seriousness that mirrored her husband’s demeanour perfectly. It made Nesta cringe so thoroughly she was mildly concerned about getting wrinkles.   

“And I thought we’d grown out of sharing toys, but it seems both our expectations were thwarted.” 

“Humans aren’t toys!” Feyre reminded her. Not that Nesta didn’t already know that. No vibrator had never made her cum as hard as Cassian had.  

“And if you resented me setting you up with Cassian then why did you fuck him ?” Feyre asked. And she said fuck as though it were synonymous to stab or poison.  

“Was it to punish me? Because if so you did a spectacular job. He’s crazier about you than ever and won’t stop moping. The second-hand embarrassment is painful enough without the added agony of how annoying it is.”  

If he likes me so much why was he so eager to assume the worst of me? Nesta thought spitefully. 

It didn’t matter that she technically was lying to him. He didn’t know that.  

“You told me to give him a chance.”  

“And you couldn’t have decided you didn’t like him before having sex with him?” 

Nesta wasn’t surprised Feyre had taken Cassian’s version of things at face value.   

Her husband’s family were unimpeachably wonderful in her eyes. Meanwhile Nesta remained just another reminder of a time Feyre couldn’t have afforded the plane ticket to get to New York, let alone a town house on the upper east side. A cold bitch who hadn’t begged to join the weird cult that was the Velaris family and their innermost circle when Feyre had married Rhysand last year.  

“Oh I’d already worked out he was an ass by that point but I thought he could at least make up for putting me through the date. Not much going on in that head but he quite clearly had it all going on- 

“Ew ew ew!” Feyre interrupted. “One, I need this conversation to steer clear of anything anatomical, and two, do you have to be so horrible?” 

“You’re the one pimping out your friends, I just took you up on the offer.”  

“Ever heard of the third date rule?” 

“Didn’t you marry Rhysand on the third date?” 

Feyre sighed.  

“Cassian’s a good guy, Nes. It takes a lot to come out the other side of what he’s been through a good man and he deserves the world so-” 

“So why did you send him my way?” 

Nesta knew what Feyre thought of her. And if she hadn’t then this conversation would have made it very clear.  

“Because Nesta! You’re twenty-four and already a crazy cat lady! I’m sorry I tried to save you from dying alone and having Vex eat your corpse.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes.  

“Have you ever considered I choose to be alone because I like it?” She asked. 

Feyre sighed again, but it was softer this time, sad more than exasperated.  

“You’re not alone, Nesta,” she said. “You’re lonely.” 

It was annoying enough that she was right, she didn’t have to be so pretentious about it aswell.  

“I’m fine,” Nesta said.  

“You sound just like Cassian,” Feyre grumbled.  

“Well I’ve been smoking.” 

“I’ll be sure to put how funny you were on your headstone when those things kill you.” 

“I’m racing Rhysand to the grave, he has more cigars than I do shoes.” 

“He only smokes them on special occasions.” 

“And how do you know this isn’t a celebratory cigarette on account of you calling me?” 

“Because instead of saying hi you said I’m not in the mood.” 

“Oh so you did hear me?” 

“I hear you, Nesta,” Feyre conceded, disappointment weighing on her words. “Loud and clear. Have a good week.”  

She hung up.  

“You too,” Nesta said into the silence.  

When the silence replied she sank beneath the water. As though she hoped it might act as the cushioned walls of a padded cell meant to protect those who posed a danger to themselves.  

It didn’t. And that unpleasant ache didn’t go away. It never did.  

Worse than the dull pounding in her ears and tightness in her chest as she held her breath.  

But it would be nothing compared to the devastation of seeing Feyre or Elain hurt. The tender ache of keeping them at arms length, knowing they were at least there to brush her fingers against, was worth avoiding spending the rest of her life reaching for someone taken from her.  

Perhaps that was also why she’d wanted so fiercely to dislike Cassian.  

Nesta re-emerged with a gasp, her chest on fire.  

What an unpleasant notion, she thought, running her fingers through her wet hair and  sinking back as she took a slower breath. That she’d been looking for a reason to dislike him even after overcoming the minor detail she was going to kill his friend and client.  An excuse to throw in the towel as soon as she could.  Because it was just easier.  

Easier than accepting she was fundamentally terrified of keeping him around.  

Easier than keeping him around and seeing him get hurt.  

Fuck.  

Her being mad at him had been a cop out.  

Because yes he’d been a petty, insecure idiot;  but hadn’t she told him she was going to fuck and chuck him? Hadn’t she been at typically fast to get in a fight with him? Substantiating his insecurities.  

Nesta might have been furious at his calling her a coward, but he hadn’t actually been wrong. 

She’d let some subliminal fear convince her to sabotage things.  

A subliminal and blissfully irrational fear she realised because, Cassian, a monument of pure muscle, could definitely look after himself. He’d been marine corps for Christ’s sake. Not to mention she’d seen him take down Helion enough times in the ring while still working for Eris and the fact the man literally specialised in keeping people safe for a living! 

Nesta felt a weird and almost unfamiliar lightness in her shoulders. It felt a little like hope. Which was also terrifying.  

But she wasn’t going to the let the fear control her this time.  

 — 

 Cassian had ignored her calls.  

All three.  

Which was fine because she’d been stalking him for the past month. She knew exactly where he’d be that evening and doing things in person meant she could kill him if he kept up the asshole routine.  

Nesta’s platform stiletto boots clipped against the laminate flooring as she emerged from the elevator.  Stalking lazily through the top floor of the Illyria building.   

Even if she killed Cassian he was going to die happy.  She looked good enough to eat. Thick hair fastened back into a high ponytail, the details of her face were subject to full attention. Her eyes appearing almost wider and lashes lavished with a black like her jet thigh-highs and tied coat. Plump lips softly lined and shaded, she looked drop dead fucking gorgeous.  

Though it was what she was wearing under her fastened coat that was the real killer.  

Nesta didn’t uncross her ankles from where they’d flicked over one another as she let herself lean against the doorframe of Cassian’s office.  

It was wide open. No privacy needed when everyone else had gone home around four hours ago. The night detail on Helion allowing Cassian time to catch up on work as he had every night and well into the morning for the past month.   

“All work and no play?”  

Cassian looked up from his desk.  

“I can fix that,” she said.  

He’d never looked more handsome.  

Hair bundled into a dark band, his shirt cuffed at his forearms and a bit of scruff marring his chiselled jaw. A pair of slim reading glasses were pushed up his slightly imperfect nose and it was such a turn on Nesta was glad she was leaning against something.  

He looked a little exhausted in a kind of brooding and adorable way.  

It gave her this awful pining to massage those sculpted shoulders as he let loose a deep, tired sigh, arms folding across that powerful chest causing his white shirt to hiss as he leaned back into his chair. It was a fucking massive bit of furniture. But then it had to be to accommodate him.  

“What are you doing here?”  

Rude.  

Nesta pushed off the doorframe and into his office.  

“You ignored my calls,” she said by way of explanation. Making her way to the bookcase and running her fingers across a row of spines. It was mostly files, but she noticed a few novels as well.  

“You kicked me out of your bed at three in the morning.” 

She turned to find him watching her.  

His words were dismissive and effortlessly confrontational as usual. But there was an edge to his voice. And it wasn’t arousal. Even if his gaze caught on her boots and lingering there for longer than he’d probably care to admit.  

Nesta leaned back against the bookshelf, inspecting her manicure with an eye roll.  

“You’re still upset about that?”  

“Not at all,” he said with a smirk. Reclining back against the chair a little further, hips rolling and arms casually folding. Too casually. The dangerous grace of it speaking to the emotion that no doubt roiled beneath his bronze skin. Belied by that bullshit cockiness which grated her to the bone. “It seems I dodged a bullet.” 

“Oh really?” 

“The whole hot but mean cliché is one thing, but crazy hookup who stalks me-“ 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she sneered.   

She’d seen hints of this before. The rugged and crude act meant to cover up the insecurity she’d also been treated to.  

“Oh I’m sorry. I forgot you can’t ever admit what it is you want.” 

“You don’t have a clue what I want.” 

“I have several, Nesta.” He looked her up and down pointedly. 

The way he said her name. Even like this it made her weak in the knees while her fingers itched to choke him.  

It was all very conflicting.  

“Oddly confident in your last performance for someone so insecure,” she quipped lazily.  

Cassian rose his brows with a mean a laugh.   

“What do I have to be insecure about?” He said. “I didn’t hide behind a half-ass lie to throw someone out of my bed. And I’m pretty sure even your neighbours can attest to how good of a time I gave you,” he smirked again.  “You’re not a good enough liar for the way you moaned my name to have been an act.” 

The white hot fist in her stomach folded in on itself as it melted to a stickiness despite the misguided insult. She certainly hadn’t been putting it on Saturday. Every sound he’d drawn from her dripping with sincerity. Every moan and whimper well deserved.   

“You’re right,” she said.  

Cassian blinked.  

Nesta prowled toward him and hummed, “those, four, orgasms, were about as fake as my emergency.” 

The sultry softness to her voice thickened to something less affected at those last words.  

Cassian scoffed. Though there was something withdrawn and careful to him that hadn’t been there a second ago. Like a snake recoiling in case it needed to strike.  “Your emergency, of course. Which was?” 

“Nothing to do with you.”  

He shook his head, laughing bitterly.   

“Seriously, Nesta? You’ve had two days to come up with something now.”  

“You’re not listening to me,” Nesta slipped atop the corner of the desk, perching there with her long legs crossed over one another. The blade of a stiletto heel close enough to brush up his calf if she wanted to make him shiver.  

But she didn’t. She just wanted him to listen. To understand what she was saying so she didn’t have to say anything more because for fucks sake he was the one who’d acted up and yet she was here putting her pride on the line again.  

“It had nothing, to do with you,” she said slowly.  

A weighted silence settled like snow between them.   

Until Cassian took a blow torch to it.  

“Shit.” 

His head fell into those large hands.   

“Shiiiiiiiit,” he cursed again. “Oh god, how badly have I fucked up?” He groaned, looking up.  So humbled and distraught it was almost comical.  

“Irredeemably.” Her eyes flirted with the notion of a little smile even if her mouth remained unquirked as she propped her hands against the desk behind her and leaned into them to more comfortably watch him suffer.  

“I’d beg you not to tease me but honestly I think it’s the least I deserve- fuck.” 

“Like me teasing you isn’t the highlight of your day.” She rolled her eyes.  

Cassian laughed, pained and almost sheepish, which shouldn’t have been hot but god it made her blush.  

Keep your cool goddamn it. She wanted a little more bang for her buck where grovelling was concerned before she let on how eager she was for things to get back on track.  

“Want to flat out abuse me and make it the highlight of my year?” 

She was struggling to keep the smile off her face even as she said, “I’m not in the habit of rewarding bad behaviour. You’re a man, you get enough of that already.” 

“Nesta,” he took his glasses off, setting them down on the desk beside her thigh. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “I’m, really, really fucking sorry I’m an idiot.” 

Nesta slid of the desk.  

“Go on,” she instructed.  

“A moron a fool a stupid, stupid son of a bitch.” 

Taking a step forward she was stood between his thighs. Picking up his glasses and pushing them back on his nose. Missing the sight of this hulking, powerhouse of a man in spectacles.  

“I’m sorry.” Cassian was looking up at her with those big brown eyes, and the bastard actually leaned into her palm.  

“Oh for fucks sake how did anyone discipline you as a child with those damn puppy-dog eyes?” She growled softly, furious.  

“They didn’t to be honest,” he admitted with a breathy laugh.  

“I can tell.” 

She slid her hands to his shoulders, fingers curling soft and possessive over the stacked muscle and palms pressed to his upper chest, stepping tighter into him.  

“I guess I’ll just have to do it.”  

Cassian swallowed.  

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he tried. Intoxicatingly deep, trying to maintain that arrogant and playful edge in a way that made his words all the hotter. The simmering ache he attempted to push down all but throbbing in his voice.   

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she returned, brows arched. Battling a smirk off her face.  

“Can I ask you to do something for me, then?” 

“If you say please.” 

“Please don’t screw around with me.” 

Nesta faltered.  

Those warm hands came to rest on her lower back, long fingers curling slightly into the fabric and coaxing her that last bit closer so that her thighs brushed against the edge of his chair and her stomach was brushing up against his.  

“I’m really into you,” he admitted.  “You’re smart and you’re beautiful, and at first I thought the whole hard to get thing was an act but woman you are genuinely hard to get and it is, so sexy. But whatever it is that’s holding you back, that made you wait a week to call me, that made you claim all you wanted was a hook up; I’m clearly not cut out to compete,” he confessed. “It got in my head, and that’s on me and me lashing out at you the other night that’s on me too and I’m so, so sorry Nesta. I need to know where I stand with you though. I need to know if you’re actually interested in me. Because I like you. But I’m too old for games.” 

The silence was so thick she could have cut through it with a knife.  

Nesta’s hands fell from his chest slowly.  

“That’s good,” she assured him at last. “Because I’m not a toy.”  

She brought her fingers to the belt of her coat and pulled slow and deliberate.  

Black glazed her figure with a gorgeous intimacy. The dress hugging at what little it concealed with perfection enough to make up for its lake of mercy. Long legs sheathed in those thigh-high boots, the item was short enough that a decent length of her thighs could be seen. Interrupted at the last possible moment by sleek jet as though she’d been dipped in oil of purest night.   

Cassian’s eyes blew out to sticky treacle behind those glasses.  

“I’m human, Cass,” she hummed, tossing her coat onto the desk behind her as she spoke. “Which means I make mistakes.” He swallowed as she sighed softly, her cleavage swelling a little with the motion.  “And that I have needs. Needs you can be the one to fulfill or not.” 

She slipped into his lap, straddling him, knees bent either side of his thighs. The corded strength of which pressed painfully and exhilaratingly apparent against the soft seam of her inner thighs and she was genuinely suffering from some kind of contact high. Every inch of him seizing up subtly, deliciously taught at her touch in an effort not to respond and yet it only revealed just how much she affected him.  

“Nesta-“ 

“Shhhhhh,” she interrupted. Hands cupping that ruggedly handsome face and titling it back to tuck her’s against him slowly. “But I want it to be you,” she purred against his jaw, tracing her nose up the stubbled curve. “Let me show you how bad.” 

“Someone could come back-“ 

“I don’t care,” Nesta murmured against his mouth. “I want you.” 

His eyes fluttered shut. And she felt his cock stir in those immaculately tailored slacks.  

“Nesta-” 

She could feel every muscle that licked up his stomach tremble with a drawn out contraction as she said it again, her hands slipping down to his broad shoulders. 

“I want you,” she purred again.  

He might have tried to breath.  And it might have rubbed up something uncomfortably nice in her lower tummy.  

“Say it,” she whispered, tilting her face so that the tip of her nose brushed up the side of his. Her breath hot on his stubbled Cupid’s bow and hands running down the solid power of his upper body, burning up through his shirt. “Say it, Cassian.” 

His brown eyes like cognac and magnolia were hooded behind his glasses as he conceded.  

“You want me,” he breathed.  

She grazed her mouth against his. Lips parted suggestively and an almost silent, utterly cruel noise escaping her.  

The length of his thick cock pressed up against the seam of her plush sex as he grew to full, hard attention in his slacks. Warm and thrilling even through her panties and their open mouths melted into one another hot and heavy, tongues caressing as his large hands came to her knees and smoothed up her bare thighs covetously. 

“Fuck,” he groaned lazily as her hips began rolling deeply into him, and her hands slid under his shirt. Fingers splayed, she snaked up the cobbled muscle of his stomach, the flesh burnished and warm beneath her touch. His shirt riding up to reveal the gutter of his hips, gruesomely toned and dusted with hair.   

“This is…such a…” he breathed, between the perfect and yearning motions of their jaws, a hand smoothing up her waist in a way that made her shiver.  

“Dream come true?” She hummed, kissing him wanton and unhurried. Dangerously close to becoming a brainless mess with the way his cock rubbed up her core.  

His groan melted to a laugh or maybe it was the other way round.  

“Yes,” he admitted breathlessly. “And a bad, bad…idea.” 

“Well you’ve been a bad, bad boy, Cassian,” she whispered filthily against his ear, before capturing the lobe between her teeth softly.  

She sucked and nibbled oh so gently and he expelled a breath so gravelly and masculine it twisted the hungry knot in her core tighter. 

“Nesta…we-fuck you’re good at that…” he groaned lethargically . “Sweetheart, we can’t…” 

“Why not,” she coed quietly, the sound airy and affectedly filthy.  

“We’re…” he choked as he took in the sight of her cleavage, pushed intimately to his chest and escaping the neckline of her dress like a plume of toothpaste squeezed from the tube. “Fucking hell Nesta we’re in my office.” 

“And I’m saying you could be in me.” 

She rocked her hips against him with a particularly cruel slant.  

The groan that escaped him made something flip in her stomach, tossing about whatever sweet, impossible to describe feeling rushed there at the same time at the way his head fell back against the chair as she worked him over.  The hot friction that rubbed against her sensitive core the cherry on top of the sweet, creamy, decadent sundae.  

“Besides,” she moaned, breathless and sultry. Teeth plunging softly into her plump bottom lip as she continued rolling her hips. Hands rubbing over his shoulders and providing her leverage. “You’re the boss.” 

“I think we both know…that I’m not the boss…right now…” he groaned. Almost pained.  

“Your cock a little much for those slacks?” She hummed, faux sympathy dripping through her mocking pout. 

“I thought you liked a tight fit,” she teased, still pouting but eyes smokey. Her toes curling in her boots as her fingers began work on pulling his shirt apart.  

The buttons popped undone with a sensual and pining tempo and she was moaning quietly into his mouth as she explored the panes and ripples of that powerful upper body. More than thorough in her hands-on assessment.  

Cassian’s own hands were keeping just as busy, massaging and kneading her ass indulgently before smoothing over her rolling hips and eventually coming to her lower back. His thumbs pressing to the small of her back either side of her spine and it made something tight inside her swoon. The touch so hot and the memory it conjured so good. His big hands on her as he fucked her from behind.  

“Nesta,” Cassian groaned deeply, as she began rocking into him tighter, hotter. The impression of his cock lined up just right with her aching core.  

“Hey, baby,” She purred, drunk on the friction that made her whole body throb and hum with pleasure and the tip of her nose brushing the side of his. Hands snaking from his exposed chest to either side of his face and capturing his bruised mouth with her own. Chewing on his bottom lip obscenely, the friction beginning to push her over edge.  

“Fuck you’re incredible,” he groaned huskily once she let up. Kissing back decadently. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed almost mindlessly. “I’m so fucking sorry, Nesta.” 

“You wanna show me how sorry you are?” she purred, sultry and low, mouth parting, forehead still pressed to his and eyes fluttering open to hold his own.   

Cassian nodded, dumb and silent and eager and Jesus it turned her on.  

“Yeah? You wanna make me cum?” She hummed.  

“Yes, yes, please.” 

“Touch me, Cassian,” she whispered against his open mouth. “Make it up to me, make me feel good.” 

Cassian’s hands slid back to her ass and she moaned into the kiss he captured her lips in as he lifted her with a sensual squeeze,  wrapping her long legs tightly round the tapered cut of his waist as he stood.  

The surface of the desk was beneath her before she could work out which way was up and his touch smoothed down her legs to her knees before she could take a a breath in reprieve from kissing him. Her legs splitting either side of his broad hips and his erection, tucked to the side in his slacks and thick and heavy and hard, pushed against the inner seam of her thigh as he pulled that band from her hair. 

“I’m gonna make these gorgeous legs tremble for me,” he pledged against the her jaw, kissing and nipping his way down to where her pulse throbbed for him as he a hand through the loose locks.  

And he began suckling at that sensitive spot just as a calloused hand slipped between her thighs.  

“Mmmmm,” Nesta moaned smugly, gripping at his biceps still sheathed in the sleeves of his shirt as Cassian’s thumb ran up the seam of her dripping cunt through her panties. The lace a flimsy veil between her swollen clit and his hot touch.  

“Fuck I’ve missed you,” he moaned into her neck, her head rolling back as he snapped her panties and began stroking his fingers through her soft folds possessively. “Missed those little sounds and your mouth and this pretty neck and perfect pussy.” 

“Then cut out the all bark no bite bullshit and prove it,” she breathed.  

“Yes ma’am,” he murmured thickly, the pad of his thumb coming to her clit and she moaned as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves expertly. Her nails pressing into his shoulders, a few through the hiss of his shirt but the others carving crescents into the bronze muscle and tattoos like the meat of an apple.   

His forefinger began teasing at her tight entrance and Nesta’s breath caught.  

“Tease me and you’ll fucking regret it,” she warned thickly, and he pushed the digit inside.  

The intrusion was far from the thick, eight inches she craved, but when he curled his finger against a sensitive, swollen spot deep inside her Nesta keened aloud.  

“You look so fucking good like this,” Cassian breathed, husky and bestial as he crooked his finger inside her over and over.  

“More,” she demanded. 

It probably wasn’t clear if she was demanding more dirty praise or physical attention but Cassian was a good boy and covered all his bases. A second finger pushing inside her that second.   

She gasped as the snug walls of her cunt stretched to accommodate the two of them as he waxed lyrical about how hard her moaning got him.  Their foreheads level and those deep brown eyes lathering her with his earnest attention.  

“You’re dripping down my knuckles like a fucking peach,” Cassian told her as he thrust inside her over and over, the only thing more obscene than her facial expression and the breathless sounds she was making being the quite, wet noises his fingers illicited.  

He hadn’t let up on her clit, and at the exact moment he decided to start curling those two fingers together, he increased the speed and pressure with which he rubbed at her most responsive spot with his thumb.  

“Cassian,” Nesta moaned, her fingers running up the nape of his neck and delving into his hair, still pulled into that bun.  

“That’s it, that’s so fucking hot, baby, I want your cum dripping down my wrist,” he growled softly. Her nails sliding down his scalp.  

“You’re so fucking needy,” she got out, which only served to utterly delight him. His thumb working at her from an oh so subtly more intense angle that had a familiar buzzing low inside her threatening to pluck her apart at the seams.  

“Oh my god fuck,” she moaned. “Uhhu, that’s it, just like that oh my god.” 

“You gonna cum, Nesta? You gonna cum on my desk- Jesus I’m gonna be thinking about you moaning, long legs spread for me while you moan so fucking dirty for my fingers every time I’m sat at this fucking desk now, you know that?”  

His words sent her over the edge.  

Silently she threw her head back as her orgasm licked up every frayed nerve in her body. It was hard. And Cassian kept on working those thick fingers inside her and over her sensitive clit throughout.  

Fucking her dirty and skilled. Prolonging her twitching and bone melting pleasure.  

Until she was snaking her hands from where they’d wound through his fastened hair, and pushing him off her at the shoulders.  Falling back on her forearms with a shaky exhale, thighs still trembling subtly.  

Cassian smirked. And brought his fingers to his mouth. Licking up the length of the calloused, sticky digits. Eyes on her’s from behind those obnoxiously sexy reading glasses she had half a mind to slap off his face.  

“You taste even better than I remember,” he purred.  

“Then get on your knees.” 

Her voice was shaky but he didn’t even throw her another of those antagonistic and gorgeous smirks, just sank down. All six foot whatever, two hundred and something ridiculous pounds of muscle. Knelt on the floor between her legs.  

“Is initiative encouraged of am I to be strictly obedient?” There was that smirk.  

“You can use your brain,” she permitted. Still out of it. But still dying for him to touch her again.  “If only because I need to be convinced you have one.”  

His chuckle felt like fucking heaven between her thighs. His stubbled jaw rubbing up against her aching cunt as he kissed her like he meant it. Open mouthed and his tongue then slipping out to lavish her dripping slit before he began playing with her clit with the tip.  

Nesta moaned, chewing down on her lip once she located the dignity to quieten down so she could keep it that way.  

Her previous orgasm should have taken the edge off, but it had only reminded her already whetted appetite what there was to gorge on. Leaving her pining for more and disastrously sensitive.  

“Mmmm,” Cassian moaned deeply- though honestly it was closer to a growl which was hot- and brought those large hands to her thighs. Holding her open for him stoking the bruise-blue flame that writhed in her core and allowing him better access to her pussy.  

“Oh god right there,” Nesta keened. His nose brushing up against her clit as he licked up her snug entrance, teasing his tongue inside.  

He threw her legs over his stacked shoulders and obeyed, working his tongue inside her with shameful enthusiasm only emphasised by the noises he was making. Seriously he was putting her to shame.  

In fact if she hadn’t been rapidly approaching another orgasm she might have thought he was have more fun than her.  

Hands no longer occupied with gripping her black-clad thighs they came to her hips and waist. Coaxing her to slant forward at an angle that granted him an even more advantageous angle from which to eat her out.  

She moaned, manicured nails almost clawing into his desk behind her. “Mhmm mhmm uh,” she gasped sharply at the sudden relocation of his tongue. Cassian capturing her clit in his mouth and sucking on the sensitive bud as he flicked his tongue up and down.  

“Fuck, yes yes yes yes,” she was utterly breathless. “Oh god, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” she whined.  

Cassian fucking groaned and it was like he’d pulled at the knot in her stomach with his teeth.  

The muscles in her lower stomach twitching as she came, the cushiony walls of her cunt pulsing tight and the only thing grounding her to reality.  

Though she was just lucid enough to know Cassian was lapping up the nectar between her legs with audible and pleased snarls of pure, masculine satisfaction.  

Nesta couldn’t say how long it took her to stop seizing, just that she was completely drunk on pleasure by the time her body allowed her to at least try and think. She failed completely. Wasted on her orgasm, on Cassian.  

“Come ‘ere,” she said, breathless and doped up. Eyes barely fluttering open, heavy lidded and probably glazing over with unabashed appreciation as Cassian did as he was told. Rising to stand before her, thick arms winding round her waist snuggly and pulling her to him tight.  

His sheathed erection pushed to her sticky inner thigh and his powerful upper body, chiselled and broad and comforting, warm and hard and dusted with dark hair, pushed to her’s.  

His sharp jaw, like her thighs, was slightly sticky, and his mouth looked even more abused than it from the attention of her teeth. But the best part- better than his mid-sex blush or the way he was breathing all deep and powerful and hungry for her, were his glasses. They were slightly fogged up at the edges.  

“Apology accepted?” He asked huskily, like he was already sure of the answer. Like he didn’t care because no matter what she said he was going to have her screaming for him till they were both sick of each other.  

“Apology accepted,” Nesta confirmed. Splayed hands smoothing up his broad chest as she captured his lips in a wanton kiss.  

“That still leaves your punishment though,” she whispered.  

Cassian’s dark brows had barely risen before she’d pushed him back and he was falling into the chair again. Breathing deep and thrumming with a desire that destabilised him as he watched her slip a stiletto heel beneath her panties on the floor and flick them up into her hand. Prowling toward him and climbing into his lap. Hoping it wasn’t obvious that her legs felt like liquid.  

“Hold these,” she demanded, feeding the bundle of lace into his mouth, his groan muffled by the fabric and her hands making quick and embarrassingly eager work of removing his unfastened shirt. All but tearing it off his sculpted arms that must have been as thick as her thighs- his body was ridiculous.  

She griped his wrists before he could start doing something like feeling her up and brought them behind his head. Elbows out and biceps flexed, his hands meeting in the middle at the nape of his neck.  

Cassian kissed and nipped at her fingers as she plucked her panties from his mouth with one hand, holding his wrists with the other.  

He licked at his lips as though chasing the taste of her lingerie, eyes on her’s from behind his glasses.  

She wasn’t gentle knotting the lace round his wrists.  

“Oh,” he grinned, trying to move his arms.  

He couldn’t of course, the physics working against him and rendering it so his only way out would be pulling until the lace snapped for a second time this evening. Still, it was a fucking gorgeous sight watching him try. Biceps and broad chest flexing.  

Tied up and at her mercy she was dripping wet for him and slipped her tongue into his mouth as a little reward for how fucking hot he looked like this. Kissing him obscene and wet.  

“Safe word?” She murmured into his mouth.  

“Harder,” Cassian grinned. No doubt referencing her answer to the very same question the other night.  

Nesta bit his bottom lip, puncturing the bruised cushion subtly and she tasted blood on her teeth and his tongue.  

“Safe word,” she insisted once more against his lips, fingers winding through his hair with a drawn out and yearning pull.  

“Amren,” he groaned`. Then added, “don’t ask.” 

“Yeah we’re done talking,” she informed him dismissively. Unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops of his slacks with a swift tug.  

Cassian’s hips jumped beneath her and she unfastened the button slung low on his hips, pulling the zip of his fly down. Parted lips close to brushing.  

“Down boy,” she purred.  

“Bit late for that,” he breathed raggedly, jaw feathering as she slid her hand into his boxers.  

“God you’re adorable,” Nesta pouted, freeing his thick cock. Obnoxiously engorged and a dribble of pearlescence spilling from the uncut tip.  

“Now be a good boy and don’t you dare cum until I say,” she warned.  

And sank down on thick inch after inch of his hot, rigid shaft.  

Nesta couldn’t help the arch that slipped through her spine as he filled her up, the stretch so acute it had her eyes rolling back with a flutter of her thick lashes.  

“Oh my god,” she moaned breathlessly, hands splayed against his powerful chest. Thighs straddling his, her walls hugged him vice like and- Jesus, he rubbed up that deep spot inside her perfectly. 

“Nesta,” Cassian groaned beneath her. “You’re so… fucking tight.” 

Nesta rolled her head to the side in tandem with her hips, growing accustomed to the sheer size of him and eliciting a raw sound from the man before she removed his reading glasses. Fitting them over the bridge of her own petite nose.  

“No backseat driving now, sweetheart,” she purred a little shakily.  

She rose onto her knees only to sink back down again with a filthy twist of her hips. Repeating the motion again and again. Gliding up and down his cock with a tight and slippery friction that had her stomach flexing and his gaze heavy lidded. Encouraging, low noises escaping from deep in his chest that she wanted to bottle up and get drunk on.  

“Uhh,” she keened, dirty and blissful, hands on his stacked shoulders. “Uhhu.” 

“Oh fuck,” Cassian breathed huskily. “Mmhhm…that’s it…fucking ride me baby” 

Nesta felt a familiar heat fan at her core as she drank him up. Every perfect, delicious inch there for her to use.  

“Cassian,” she moaned. The sound tasting like sex in her mouth.  

She fluttered around him again on an upwards twist of her hips, his cock pushing in and out of her snug cherry with a delicious wet sound. Just audible above her filthy moans.   

Riding him was like sucking on a hard candy, that intense sweetness at the centre burning ever closer. And he kept running that damn mouth.  Gravelly and deep, lavishing her body with sickly sweet and dirty compliments.  

“Fuck that’s it gorgeous, just like that sweet thing fucking hell you’re fucking perfect.” 

Powerful and dripping with raw fucking desire his body rolled upwards into her, slick with sweat and chiselled sinew.  His cock burying deeper inside her. The sounds he was making just to top it off causing a tight fuzziness to tremble in her upper thighs.   

“Oh my god,” Nesta moaned, hands coming to his face and lips brushing his as so she moaned a hot, “I’m gonna cum,” into his mouth.  

Cassian groaned. Kissing her hard and deep.  

“Cassian,” she keened.  

She began bouncing deeper in his lap. Up and down up and down. His cock thrusting inside her hard and rubbing at her g spot just right while her clit grazed the coarse hair at his rugged hips. There was a bead of sweat gliding down the chiselled muscle that carved his broad torso, washboard abs flexing as he resisted release and Nesta felt the pressure between her thighs reach a fever pitch.  

Grunting he bucked violently beneath her once, twice, and she was undone.   

Nesta might have made a noise this time. Airy and hot and open mouthed against his neck as she buried her hands into his hair.  

He was so tense beneath her, like pure marble soaked in the heat of the sun. Trying not spill inside her as her walls flexed with every hot wave of pleasure.  

And once it passed his breathing was as ragged as her own.  

“You did so good,” Nesta whispered at last against his ear. Voice wrecked like she were experiencing a sugar crash. Nibbling at the lobe. Tasting salt on her lips and eyes fluttering shut at the heady scent of his aftershave.  

“Does that mean I get a reward?” he managed.  

“Something like that,” she hummed, repositioning herself so that her back was to his chest.  

“Nesta please. Just untie me, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered against her ear. Voice trembling like he’d shot up something good.  

Nesta only chuckled, head knocked back so she could hold his eyes as she rolled her hips. Teasing, tormenting.  

“The second you get your hands on these,” she brought her hands to her tits, giving them a soft squeeze and biting her lip, “you’ll be cumming and out of commission.”  

Cassian growled, watching her feel herself up as she rolled her hips in leisurely circles.  Sensual and dirty. The length of his hard shaft, thick and velvet smooth beneath her.  

“Fuck,” he moaned huskily. Nose buried at her throat and lips working against her pulse point with the assistance of his tongue and teeth. Just as slow and through as her hips. 

She gasped softly, grinding deeper.  

“You know how good I can make it for you,” he purred.  

“Mmmm,” she moaned quietly in agreement.  

“Let me take care of you.” 

“Cassian.” 

“You make my name sound so sexy,” he grazed his stubbled jaw against the bruise he’d worked into her throat, the sensitive skin blushing warm at the contact as he moved his mouth to another location and started kissing and nibbling there.  “Untie me, baby, and I’ll give you everything you want.” 

Nesta smiled.  

“Or I could keep you tied up and just take it.” 

Cassian growled against her neck as she tilted her hips forward allowing his cock to spring up, and sank down on him again.  

She moaned, loud and keening. Hands snaking through his hair behind her as she rocked herself up and down slowly. There wasn’t a lot of friction, but for now it was enough just to revel in how good Cassian’s cock felt. That last orgasm having finally takes the edge off.  

“Fuck that’s it grind for me,” he moaned. His breath was hot against her neck and she could feel his heart beat. Feel every deep sound reverberate through his chest as she moved.   

His cock rubbed up against her g spot, colours and stars bleeding behind her eyes like fireworks.  

“Cassian,” she whimpered lowly.  

It was so good.  

Hands fumbling distractedly she brought her fingers to untie him.  And he deemed it all the permission he needed. Tearing himself free with a growl.  Capturing her mouth in a slow and wanton kiss as those big hands came to rove her body, taking his time to pull her apart.  

His touch hot and calloused, Nesta moaned into his mouth as he ran up her stomach, her hips, her thighs, her tits. Massaging and glazing every inch of her with a rough heat that made her feel like she was going to explode. Her body a champagne flute dangerously close to shattering at the frequency of his hot groans and growls.  

“Right there, oh right fucking there baby,”  She moaned quietly against his lips, one of his hands rubbing her hip and guiding her motions while the other palmed at her breast.  

“Yeah? You like that?” He dipped his head to pull down the straps of her bra and dress down with his teeth until her cleavage spilt from the cups. Pebbled nipples tight and rosy in the dim light, peaking over the balcony of her bra.  

“Mmmmm,” he murmured against her throat, exploiting the sensitive spot as he made his way back up to her face and watched her plump tits sway. A hand running from her hip down her thigh and back up again to slip between her legs to stroke her clit. 

Nesta whined softly.  

“Cassian…more…” 

She kissed him sluggish and distracted. The two of them humming and moaning every so often until he started caressing her clit tighter and her sounds grew more frantic.  

“Fuck uhhu, uhhu just like that,” she panted quietly into his mouth. “Oh god uhh, uhhh more…more…more more Cassian fuck me.” 

She was on her feet before she could complain that his hands were no longer between her thighs. Pushed up against the edge of his desk, hands falling splayed against the surface to stop herself falling across the wood and legs split apart.   

“Oh!” 

“Good girl,” he grunted deeply. “Moan for me.” 

His calloused fingers came to her clit, coaxing her closer to the edge as the other gripped her hip.  

“That’s it, that’s my girl such a good girl baby.” 

Mouth caught open as though on a fish hook Nesta started seeing black splodges, the puddles flaring in her vision on every one of his thrusts. Deep and dirty and filling her till she was so impossibly full she spilt over.  

“Fuck fuck just like that oh my god you’re so fucking tight, cum on my cock, cum on my cock, uh, uh, uh.”  

Cassian finished inside her with a guttural sound as she came. Pumping her full one last time with a brutal snap of his hips.  

She was vaguely aware of his ragged breathing against her ear. Somewhat sure her forearms had fallen flat against his desk and her head hung forward. Hair falling over her face and back arched as her tight sex twitched and fluttered around him.  

Coming back to her senses took longer than she’d ever admit.  

“Is that cctv?” Nesta asked eventually, head tipped back and resting on his shoulder. Eyes flicking in gesture to the tiny little camera in the opposite corner of the ceiling.  

“Don’t worry,” Cassian breathed. “It’s switched off.” 

She turned her gaze to him.  

“Shame.” 

He let out an exhausted and reverent sound that might have been a laugh. And just as exhausted, once he’d pulled out, he fell back into the chair behind him. Trousers pulled back up but unbuttoned.  

Nesta followed in fatigued suit, working her dress back down over her hips and sinking to the floor, back against the desk. She probably shouldn’t have worn black… but the impending bill and judgement from her dry cleaner would be worth it.  

“Friday night. Pick me up at eight,” she breathed.  

Cassian grinned.  

“You like Italian?”  

Nesta rolled her eyes from behind the reading glasses askew on her nose, but nodded none the less. She was sort of screwed if she didn’t. Cassian’s adopted family were Italian on his father’s side. The cuisine was going to be pretty commonplace if they kept seeing each other she imagined.  

“What are you thinking about?” He hummed, watching her.  

Nesta smiled. Then crawled toward him across the floor. “How I still have that table cloth you call a dinner jacket at my place.”  

 “Was that plan b?” He laughed, snaking an arm round her waist as she climbed into his lap. “Hold my jacket hostage till I agreed to go out with you again?”  

“No,” she glared at him softly, nestling into the crease of his shoulder. “Though I had thought about wearing it tonight. Just your jacket and a pair of heels.” 

Cassian licked his lips as though contemplating the sight and liking what he imagined very much. “Next time,” he hummed distractedly. Less promise more pleading. “This was…,” his free hand roved down her side, the black fabric glued to her figure. “And these…,” his touch made her melt as he ran down her thigh and platform boot, her legs flicked over one another.  

“Lethal,” he whispered.  

Nesta scoffed. “You’re telling me. My toes are killing me.”  

Cassian hummed sympathetically, fitting a heel in his hand and guiding the shoe off her foot. Nesta groaned softly and he did the same with the other boot.  

“That bad?” He chuckled, starting to massage her.  

“Worth it though,” she sighed, nuzzling into his shoulder.  

  Cassian held the door open for Nesta to emerge out onto the street first. The cool night air whipping lazily at her hair. 

Their second date had been incredible.  

He’d taken her to Gnocco in the East Village. Proper Italian food, fairy lights, and intimate little corners perfect for flirting over too many glasses of wine and playing footsie beneath the table. Not to mention casual enough to see Nesta Archeron fitted out in heels, a snug black top, and a jaw dropping pair of jeans.  

Tactically quiet and effortlessly biting as ever, she’d been armed with passionate reviews on the podcasts she’d listened to or books she’d read that week. Asking him about his own week and listening thoughtfully in a way that had probably made him blush.  

If it hadn’t, then the way she’d licked at the creamy vanilla gelato on her dessert spoon definitely had.  

Cassian was far too tempted to slip his hand into the back pocket of her dark skinny jeans as he emerged after her, but he felt Nesta probably wasn’t one for PDA. Or more accurately, public groping. And he was determined to be on his best behaviour this evening. Determined to make her forget all about how shit-awfully he’d handled last Saturday.  

Not that he hadn’t given her a thorough apology.  

Consistency was key however, and there would be no lapse in his conduct any time soon when it came to Nesta. He’d lucked out so fucking hard in getting a second chance when he hadn’t even deserved the first with a woman like her. Clever and beautiful and passionate and god he had it bad.  

Had been thinking about her all week. Their date the only thing getting him through the late nights that were pretty much killing him at this point and the days spent arguing with Helion.  

Cassian had worked out who’d put a hit on his friend. And why.  

The contracts Helion was in the midst of signing were of a more personal nature that he’d originally let on. His will to be precise. In which it was detailed that upon his death, the pharmaceutical powerhouse that was Day Inc. should be handed over to Saoirse Vanserra.  

The married woman Helion had gone and fallen in love with twenty odd years ago. The mother of his child. 

Not that Helion had been aware of the that little detail until recently. Terminally ill, Saoirse hadn’t wanted the secret buried with her, and had gotten in touch with her old flame to tell him her youngest was his.  

Despite being well into his fifties, Helion behaved like a twenty-something at the best of times. But learning he had a son that actually was twenty-something had thrust him into a panicked play at accountability. Saoirse was going to die, and soon, but Helion would still have a piece of her, a piece of the both of them despite the estrangement that had haunted their relationship since the start. A piece he’d do every and anything in his power to do right by.  

Which meant Lucien would inherit his father’s company when the time came.  

But removing Saoirse from his will…it felt like signing her death warrant. At least that’s what he’d told Cassian. That it it felt like he was giving up on her.  

Cassian wished Helion could process everything in as much time as it took him. But time was a luxury not even the multi-millionaire could afford. Not with Saoirse’s eldest, Eris, trying to take him out before the will could be changed.  

As things stood, Eris was set to inherit anything of his mother’s- a compromise reached between Saoirse and her cunt of a husband who’d wanted everything in his name. The Vanserra court its own savage little patriarchy of snakes and vipers, meaning as long as Beron was around, what belonged to his sons, belonged to him.  

Still, Eris was the undisputed second in command and Beron wasn’t getting any younger. If he could take Helion out before any changes were made to the CEOs will, and if Saoirse’s doctors were to be believed, Day would practically be his by the end of the year.  

Maybe sooner. If Beron beat his cancer ridden wife to death upon learning she’d been left Helion Day’s company and why.   

He doubted anyone would put it past the bastard.  

“Hey,” Nesta’s voice tugged at his attention as they turned off tenth. “Where’d you go?”  

Cassian snaked his arm around her small waist, pulling her against him. “Just thinking,” he said. And as hard as he tried to push those thoughts away, something of them lingered in his voice.  

She raised a neat eyebrow. That little beauty spot above the arch lifting with it and the one beneath the corner of her plump bottom lip quirking just barely.  

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. Tucking her tighter to his side as he looked down at her. “That’s because the only thing I ever think about is you. And when I’m with you, I don’t have to do that, do I?” 

Her blush was so utterly adorable it made him want to kiss her senseless.  

“How do you do that?” Those eyes like the smoke of ice narrowed in sincere curiosity. It was a little terrifying.  Which off course only made him like her more.  

“What? Make you blush like a-” 

“No,” she interrupted him with an embarrassed and chiding laugh, pushing at his chest slightly. “Say things, just say them-  like the only thing that matters is that you mean them?” 

Cassian smiled. “Not everything has to be done strategically, Nesta.”  

“Says the military man.” 

“And wouldn’t you say that makes me qualified to- okay fine, roll your eyes at me. Jokes on you because it’s actually very sexy when you do that so.” 

Nesta laughed, her head falling to rest below his chest as they walked.  

“Fortunate you say something to make me roll my eyes every five seconds then,” she hummed.  

“And that I know just how to make those eyes roll back,” he purred lowly in response with a roguish grin, rubbing his thumb against where her coat lay over her stomach.  

“Oh and you’re telling me this whole conversation wasn’t strategically constructed so you could use that line?” Nesta looked up at him.  

“Sweetheart, when are you going to accept that I’m just incredibly smooth?” He grinned. “Besides, that wasn’t a line.”  

“That was so a line!”  

“You’d know if I was giving you a line.” 

“Go on then. Give me your best line,” she challenged. Stopping dead and turning on him with her arms folded. Cassian didn’t let his arm slip from around her waist though. Kept it right where it was as he brought his free hand to tuck a lock of chocolatey hair behind her ear. Inspiration striking him.  

“Are you a box of chocolates?” he asked, gravelly and suggestive.  “Because I’d love to take your top off.”  

Nesta really had the loveliest laugh in the world.  

“That’s awful!” She put her hands firm against his chest. “How did you ever get laid before I took pity on you?”  

“Um I’m gorgeous and rich,” he reminded her, both arms now caging her in.  

“What a coincidence,” Nesta purred, their noses tucked against one another just barely thanks to his date’s shoes. No doubt expensive as they were tall.  

“No coincidences here, sweetheart. This is all fate.” 

“I’m deliberately not rolling my eyes just to spite you for saying something so cliché and dumb,” she murmured.  

“Fine then. Fate and your meddling sister,” he admitted.  

“Let’s not talk about my little sister right now,” Nesta’s hands snaked up to toy with the lapels of his coat.  

“What would you rather we talk about?”  

“I don’t want to talk at all,” she whispered. And pulled him down lazily to meet her mouth.  

Cassian moulded his lips to the perfect pressure of her own. Hard and soft, her mouth like velvet and her body pressing into his tight and loose in all the right places.  

Kissing Nesta was like brushing you fingers against the glacial softness of snow like flakes of glass. Irresistible and inevitable. Burning so soft at first before the sensation grew unbearably tender and acute.  It reminded you that you were alive.  

The movements of their mouths grew hotter, no less lethargic, but simply heavier. Like they had all the time in the world and planned to exploit every second.  

So much for not into PDA, Cassian thought, as she coaxed his mouth open further with her tongue, his own slowly swiping to meet it. And he did slip his hand into her back pocket then, giving her a fond and pining squeeze which pulled her tighter into him.  

The pads of her thumbs brushed at either side of his jaw as she arched a little, those perfect tits pushed against his upper body and he dug his fingers a little more possessively into the fabric of her coat. Bunching at her waist beneath his calloused touch.  

Nesta sighed sweetly into him-  

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Cassian swore.  Tame Impala playing from his pocket.  

“Looks like I’m not the only one who likes your attention,” Nesta laughed quietly, hands smoothing back to her sides politely. The little menace. Her effortless composure all the more devastating with her mouth kissed cherry-red and pupils blown wide as saucers.  

He fished out his phone, and declined the call.  

“Well you’re the only one getting it.” 

She rose her brows as though she were impressed, winding her arms back around his neck.  

“For a man who hates games you have game, Velaris.” 

“Would you feel less wooed if I told it you was just Rhysand?” He admitted. Rejecting his busybody brother’s phone call a far less bold gesture than if it had been work.  

Nesta’s little smile was like molten satin.  

“That makes it even better,” she kissed him again.  

Cassian kissed her back through his laugh, dipping her back slightly for a more indulgent angle, her arms lacing tighter around him to hold herself up. Like he’d let her fall.  

Nesta was the one laughing now and it tasted like gelato and champagne and sunrises. He nipped at her lip as he pulled her back up with him snuggly, and she brought her hand to cup the side of his face, the other at his tapered waist.  

“I should get going,” she hummed distractedly,  hand gliding up his body like she didn’t even realise.  

Her tongue caressed his slowly before he was muttering against her, “probably”, chasing the plush heat of her mouth.  

They didn’t stop. Not even as Nesta was murmuring a disjointed, “heighten the…suspense…keep you…wanting and all that.” 

“I’m already losing interest,” he purred gruffly, their jaws knocking intimately as the kiss became hotter and fitful, short breaths and hungry mouths. Her nails scraping softly up the nape of his neck and through his hair.  

“And you’re looking for it in my back pocket, is that it?” She whispered, and Cassian gave her ass a firm squeeze as either confirmation or reprimand.  

She bit his bottom lip, the nip of her pearly teeth giving way to a sensual sort of chewing that made his eyes roll back behind closed lids and his large hands wound through her hair to guid her head back so he could take charge. Kissing her slow once again but dirtier, thorough and wanton and Nesta keened almost silently.  

“Found it,” Cassian said thickly into her mouth.  

“Want your prize?” She whispered breathlessly.  

“Yes please.” 

Nesta slid her hand between them. Fingers brushing his belt, then lower- 

Cassian couldn’t tell if he was relieved or devastated when she slipped her way inside his pocket and plucked free his phone.  

She withdrew just barely from the kiss, switched it on and turned the screen to him. The device unlocked as both his hands tucked into her pockets and her manicured thumbs were tapping away.  

Cassian brushed at the curved beam of her high cheekbone with his nose, trying to see what she was up to.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Callander says you’re free Friday. Or it did.  Now it says you have a date.” She nestled herself back into him tightly, tucking the device back into his pocket, exploiting that teasing proximity to something else entirely and driving him crazy as she grazed his mouth with her own.  

“Congratulations.” 

Cassian grinned.  

“Tha- wait just to be clear the date is with you, right?”  

 “Yes, Cassian, the date is with me,” she chuckled. “And I can’t wait,” her humming melted to something wordless and heavy as he kissed her again.  

Slow and explicit he stroked his tongue inside and he swore he felt the flutter of her lashes against his cheek.  

“Cassian,” she breathed almost silently and it burnt his lungs like freezing air.  

“Can I take you home?” Cassian whispered.  

“May I take you home,” Nesta corrected between the sinful caress of their lips.  

“Please do.” 

She was kissing the smirk off his face like she could taste how snug he was and wanted a piece of it for herself. Like she were working at a marshmallow or strawberry lathered with thick chocolate from a hot fountain of the stuff.  

“Maybe you are smooth,” she whispered and it only inflated Cassian’s self satisfaction. “But we both know I like it rough.” Ouch. “Just like we both know you’re way too exhausted to have your way with me.” 

He pulled back abruptly.  

But his mouth had barely opened to argue when she gave him a definitive “don’t”. It was little bit arousing. “You said yourself how late you’ve been working. Have you slept at all this week?” 

For all her icy glares and hellish attitude, at her core, Nesta was kind. She cared despite her pretences to the contrary and it meant she noticed things. Like how despite his lively grins, Cassian was out for the fucking count.  

“That’s what I thought. You can screw me when I know you won’t pass out before making it to third base.” 

“The only one who’d be passing out is you once I’m through fu-” 

“Save that thought for a night you have the energy to see it through,” she said.  

“But I-” 

A quirk of her neat brows shut him up.  

He growled a bitter but accepting sound. She was right, of course she was right, because she was Nesta and a Nesta was always right.  

“Friday,” he promised. “I’m gonna cook for you, something fucking romantic.” 

“More romantic than that sentence?”  

“Look I may not be Keats but I know my way round a stove, so hold all sarcastic comments until I’ve fed you.” 

“I’ll try, but I know for a fact you’re going to make that very hard.” 

“How have you already failed?” 

“Shut up,” Nesta laughed.  

“You have the sexiest fucking laugh.” 

“So you’ve said,” she blushed.  

“And I’ll keep saying it if every time I do you blush like that.” 

“Like I’m embarrassed for you?” she countered with an arched brow and a cruel twitch at the corner of her mouth.  

“You’re so mean,” he grinned.  

They made their way to the curb and hailed down a car on twelf. 

“Want me to ride with you back to your apartment?” he said, opening the back door of a yellow cab that had pulled up for her.  

“That’s sweet, but trust me, I can take care of myself,” she promised.   

“Text me when you get home safe and sound just to spite me then,” he said from the opposite side of the door.  

“I will. But you better not be awake to read it,” She gave him a lingering kiss before gracefully tucking herself inside.  

“Night, gorgeous,” he winked, and shut the door.  

Her ride had just turned onto fourteenth when Cassian decided against hailing his own despite the cold. It was only fifteen or so minutes on foot, and he could probably do with cooling down.  

Though even if he had to trek through tundra to get home he suspected he’d still find himself burning up under a cold shower in an attempt not to jack off to the thought of Nesta like a fourteen year old.  

Stuffing his already slightly numb hands into his pockets he began walking, his fingers brushing against his phone. He should probably call Rhys back.  

The phone rang for a moment before his brother picked up.  

“Did you decline my call?” 

“Yup.” 

“Bastard.” 

“I’m sure Feyre will kiss your bruised ego better,” Cassian grinned as he walked. “Along with something else so long as she doesn’t hear you’ve been calling me names,” he added slyly.  

“Are you threatening to tell on me to my wife?” Rhysand asked, a little wound up by the allusion to Feyre’s kissing certain places even if he hid it behind an unimpressed drawl.  

“Are you pretending the thought doesn’t have you quaking in your givenchy loafers?”  

“On the topic of not upsetting Feyre, she’s demanding a family dinner.” 

He laughed deeply at Rhysand’s avoiding the question.  

“That why you’re calling?” 

“Partly,” Rhys said. “Work’s been…She wants to be around family right now,” he said with an all too familiar casualness. “You free?” 

“For Feyre?” Cassian said without hesitation.  “Yeah, I’m free.” 

He would just have to pull an all nighter on the Monday. 

“Thank you. And also fuck you for implying if it was for me you wouldn’t be,” his brother said.  

“Well you called me just as Nesta was about to slip her tongue down my throat so-” 

“Nesta?” Rhys interrupted. “I thought that was over?” 

Shit.  

In all the carnage that had been the last week he hadn’t bothered letting his family know he and Nesta were back on. The woman was a touchy subject and he hadn’t had the energy or balls to get into it.  

While Rhys had been able to excuse Elain’s inactivity when the Archerons had been at their financial lowest, he’d never managed to extend that same courtesy to Nesta. Maybe it was because the first time they’d met she’d called him a cradle snatching whore. Regardless, Rhysand pretty much hated the woman’s guts, meanwhile his wife was desperately trying to lure her into the inner circle of the Velaris family.  

Cassian may have been able to bench a number higher than his IQ but he wasn’t dumb. He’d clocked on to the fact his sister-in-law was using him as Nesta bait.  In all honesty he was loving it. Nothing made him happier than helping out his family, and if that meant taking out an intelligent, passionate, stunning young woman, then really it was a double-win.  

Taking a second to grind his jaw softly he was reminded to tread carefully. Not something he generally excelled at, but for the sake of his brother he could try.  

“I know you’re not her biggest fan,” he said. “But Feyre forgave her years ago for bailing-” 

“Well Feyre’s a better person than I am.” 

“I’ll say. She set me up with a smoking hot model, meanwhile you’re trynna cock block me,” he tried.  

“You can put your dick wherever you want, doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

“I guess not,” he ground out. Itching to hit something at the implication Nesta was just “somewhere to put his dick”.  

“Cassian if you want to date a biblical plague in human form knock yourself out, seriously, god knows Feyre will be thrilled. And Azriel, your moping-” 

“I don’t mope,” Cassian interjected.  

“Fine, your stropping-” 

“Fuck off.” 

Rhys’ laugh was about smug as the bastard’s crooning voice.  

“Mor’s gonna kill you by the way. You put a two grand dent in her wine collection over a woman you took back the next week.” 

Cassian groaned, wiping a hand over his face. The only thing worse than the hangover he’d had Monday morning would be Morrigan’s laying into him on this.  

“Don’t you dare tell her,” he warned.  

“Fine but you’ll have to do it before next Sunday, you’re bringing Nesta.” 

“Hang on a minute-” 

“Feyre wants a family dinner and if you and Nesta are back on that means she’s coming,” Rhys said.  

“Boy you are asking a lot of me here,” Cassian sighed dramatically. “I mean I can think of a few ways to persuade her but most of them are illegal in a lot of countries,” he grinned.  

“I don’t care if you have to roofie her and strap her to the hood of your car, just make sure she’s there.” 

“Alright, alright Don.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Rhys growled irritably to Cassian’s delight.  

“What else were you calling about then?” He smirked. “You said dinner was only part of it.” 

“I wanted to ask how things were going with Helion,” his brother said. “Any update?” 

Cassian sighed heavily.  

“This a secure line?” 

“Always”. 

“The hit’s Eris,” he said. “Apparently Saoirse does pretty well for herself if Helion kicks it and it’s looking like she won’t last the year. When she goes Eris takes the lot so he’s trying to take Helion out before he can change his will.” 

“That little bitch,” Rhys interrupted.  

“I’m not done. Guess who Helion might be transferring that inheritance to?” 

“Is Azriel going to finally have the funds to build that sex dungeon?”  

“Not quite,” Cassian said. “The money’s going to Lucien.” 

“Lucien?” 

“Turns out the kid’s his.” 

“Fucking hell.” 

“Seems obvious in hindsight to be honest.” 

Rhys was silent on the other end for a moment as he evidently thought through matter.   

“You said might, is he waiting on a paternity test or something?” 

Cassian winced. “No. No he’s dragging his feet about changing the will altogether.” 

“Why the fuck is he doing that there’s a bullet with his name on it!” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Cassian hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “I’m the one whose gonna have to jump in front of that bullet if he doesn’t get his ass in gear. But he…he’s losing the love of his life, Rhys. I’m trynna cut him a little slack-” 

“Slack Eris is going to have someone strangle him with.” 

“I’m handling it,” Cassian promised.  

Rhys went silent again.  

“We could always just kill Eris.” 

Cassian would have laughed at the unrestrained glee in his brother’s voice if the suggestion hadn’t been so tempting.  

“No you can’t,” he reminded him, ascending the steps to his front door.  

“Sorry, sorry, you probably want plausible deniability and all that- which is a shitty reason to leave a family business-” 

“What are you talking about? I left because I don’t like any of you.” 

“Dick.” 

“See it’s that kind of thing that made for a hostile work environment I really couldn’t foresee a future working under,” he grinned, unlocking the door.  

“You taught me words far more creative than that growing up, monte de merda-” 

“Desenmerda-te, and don’t cuss at me in Portuguese carcamano.” 

“I’m fucking Persian!” 

“Tell that to your pale ass like unbaked garlic bread, minchia,” Cassian retorted in Italian as he tossed his keys onto the skirting board and shrugged off his coat.  

“A fanabla!”  

“Love you too, tell Feyre I said hi.” 

“See you and Nesta on Sunday, I’ll text you timings.” 

“No shop talk okay, she still doesn’t know anything about-” 

“I know, I know, it’s not me you have to worry about. Feyre keeps asking me to hire her.” 

“As what? Has Cosa Nostra began dabbling in the modelling industry under your direction, baby brother?” 

“If I said yes would you come back to us?” 

“I’m a one woman man, Rhys.” 

“Jesus, it’s been less than a month.” 

“At which point you and Feyre were engaged.” 

“Nesta’s no Feyre.” 

Yeah, Nesta has enough wit about her to know you can’t go round offering Mafia jobs like candy, he thought to himself.  

“Whatever man, I’ll see you then.” 

“See you then.” 

 TAG LIST

@featherymalignancy

@sleeping-and-books

@my-fan-side

@hearts-of-persephone 

@witchling13

@theoverlyenthusiasticwriter

@typicalmidnightsoul

@sezkins79

@thebitchupstairs

@fourshizzle149

@monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies

@yikesitsmaddie

@jjellybean

@thronesandstars

@mis-lil-red 

@rhysandsdarlingfeyre

@cf-mist-and-fury

@breezy-freezy 

@dayanna-hatter 

@anishake

@candid-confetti 

@goldbooksblack

@impossiblescissorspeachpaper

@justgiu12

@twansy17

@caotica-e-quieta

@singinginthedarktimes

@carebear1339

@keshavomit

@januarystears

@bookstantrash 

@illyrianshadowhunter

[thelemmerpie]

You look at your watch, and the same question since the beginning of the school year crosses your mind.

Why having classes on saturday morning?

Everyone is tired, except the teacher. Everyone will have to work this weekend. Students never have a vacation, only stolen time paid from sleepless nights.

Whatever. Since you know Mandy, your saturdays to you two are as free as possible and almost nothing prevents you from seeing each other. Every week, you end up in your favorite italian restaurant for a dinner, often accompanied by a night of pleasure in your flat, or hers. Even if it's still impossible for you to live with each other, spending the weekends together is not uncommon. So much that she has clothes and toilet stuff in your appartment, and vice versa.

You thought about her face floating above a table, lit by candles. It perfumes your spirit and you quickly forget the courses. Gracious, her smile revealing so cute dimples, her long and willowy hair tumbling down like a waterfall made of the most sleeked mirror on her oppulent chest, more or less revealed according to her mood...You're already on a cloud only by thinking about her. The day is beautiful, your eyes closes while you're smiling, and nothing can lift you out of your contemplation.

-Mr. Johnson seems already on weekend. Unless he's still in dreamland?

Almost nothing. The comment is as striking as a bucket of iced water. You turn your head to the old vulture who serves as a teacher. The bun as tight as her thin pinched lips, she looks at you with eyes ready to throw lightning. You stutt.

-Sorry mam'. Tiredness.

-Think about sleeping at night, young man.

As if you could afford it...This first year of master's degree in plastic arts, sculpture course, is more exhausting than expected.You wish you could rest your head every night on Mandy, which is impossible. Since she obtained a bachelor's degree and works on the other side of the city, she had to take a flat. You, you stayed on the campus. Life is good inside it, but not as much as with her.

The rest of the class is deadly boring, but you strive to make as many notes as you can. Finally, after what seems like hours, the old harpy frees you by asking you to return a project for the next time.

You turn on your phone and the notifications appears. Mandy sent you a text. You open it right away, hoping for a soft message to wait until tonight.

"I'm sorry, I have to cancel dinner tonight"

A fleeting moment passes, then an immense disappointment falls like a hawk on his prey (and on your heart. And on your libido). This is not the first time that one of you cancels at the last moment, but it's always unpleasant. Nevertheless, you decide to not hold it against her, even if it saddens you.

"Too bad :'(  All you alright? I miss you so much ".

The answer doesn't take long to arrive.

"Yes, I'm fine, but I really cannot go out yet."

She doesn't give you more details, which worries you a bit. Usually, you immediately tell to the other the reasons for the cancellation. You are puzzled, but you trust her and don't insist.

"If you need anything, I can go to your house tonight. Shop, or anything else. What about pizzas and a movie on the TV ?"

"Yes ! That would be wonderful, and much better ! If I can't go out right now, I can at least let you in ~~ I'm sending you a list."

It's autumn, but the heat persists and the blue sky makes you want a sandwich. You would like her to be there, by your side, lying in the still soft green grass, but she never liked the heat for a simple reason : finding suitable clothes to go out in such heat is almost impossible. Not because of being overweight, no. At least, not all over her body. It's a very local overweight: a macromastia.

As a teenager, her chest was already growing at an impossible rate. At 17, she was competing with the most buxom models you'd ever seen. Since then, her chest continues to grow steadily. Every four months, she is forced to buy new bras. Whole boxes of old underwear hang around her house.

She learned to do with it. As soon as she's back home, she unravels the torture instrument to free her chest. If it excited you at first, it fast becomed as common as taking off your shoes. Ignoring her chest is clearly impossible, especially when it jumps in all directions. But the moments you prefer are those quite ones where you are together to the couch, watching TV while behaving and more if you're in the mood. These moments are still too rare. You hope this will change one day. In such a big city, your respective obligations separates you and if you get closer, it would be your obligations that would be too far from you.

You sigh. In just over a year, you'll be able to live together. Her father has promised you a job in his molding company, and he already considers you two as married. Maybe you'll even be able to take up his business later. A clear path, a good job, a dream girlfriend, and a lovely family in law. It's well worth it to endure on saturday mornings with the vulture and work like a madman.

You finish your sandwich when your phone vibrates again. It's Mandy. A short list is displayed. She doesn't need much : food, some medicine...And new bras.

There, you frown.

She bought some two weeks ago, and they were already costing a fortune, in addition to being horribly uncomfortable. Having a big chest is considered as chance, but the bad sides can be counted easily : besides the expensive and inconvenient underwears, you can cite the look of others and the lustful solicitations from complete strangers when you go out in the street.

And yet, you've never seen her complain. No back pain, a body of foolproof flexibility, and an amused satisfaction when she surprises the eyes of others dive into her deep cleavage. She likes to seduce as well, but has always looked for someone who would consider her as something much than a toy for a titfuck. Her breasts didn't leave you indifferent, but you quickly became interested about her to the point that even naked, you can discuss with her as when she wears a triple layer of thick clothes, in autumn and winter, the only seasons where she can go out without problems. Her two favorite seasons have quickly become yours as she feels comfortable.

And yet, what a pair !

You could carve it from memory on pink marble, with all the details that her body offers. Round, no, a little oval. Glossy, smooth, plumped in her clothes, looking like a silicon bag that other women implant themselves. Except that she's natural. It's so unlikely that many people find it hard to believe, at the point that "fake boobs" yeled loudly always been an insult. Harassment, she knows that. But she has always been proud of her body, and you have always been proud of her. People talk, you live your love, that's enough for you two.

You keep thinking about your sculpture. Her tits would be nothing without gravity, of course. A challenge, to account for a chest so beautiful, so full, but that falls so little. Languid into the lustiness of her own pleasure, as she is after love. She's like her chest: proud, but so smoochy when she loves...

And the nipples, of course ! Small, discreet, as cute and innocent as infants. Two small chicks hatched by two aerolas, soft hen mums. Everytime, you vacillate between kissing them softly or sucking them. Everything in her is so perfect that to soil her would be a crime, if she wern't agree to welcome you near her and into her.

Nevertheless. New bras just two weeks after buying other is strange. Have they broke ? With a chest like hers, nothing surprises you anymore.Those before were worse than grandmother's bras. Thick sackcloths, oversized sports bras, with braces stretching out day after day, until her breasts overflowed and compressed her too much. A sexy photo later, you left to buy others. Shopping with her is always a pleasure, even if shops providing sizes at her convenience are increasingly rare.

You call her, and her voice soon rings in your ears.

-Hello, Danny ?

-Mandy, sweetie, I got your list. Had you not...already bought new bras recently?

It still gets you to be embarrassed to talk about her breasts, sometimes, and you must carefully prepare your words in order to not blush. You prefer to look at them and touch them, in silence, without any other noise than her pleasure moans.

-Sorryyyyyyyy ~~ . But I can't do otherwise. I can't go out with the old ones, it's getting worse and worse.

-Better and better, you mean ?

-For you, yes.

-And for you too. I know you love your breasts.

-Stop, she said, laughing. Or I could cancel the pizza tonight.

-You wouldn't dare !

The indignation in your voice is falsely exaggerated, which makes her laugh once again.

-If the handsome and brave knight carries out his mission and goes shopping, maybe the princess will send him a foretaste of what awaits him...

-An antipasti before the pizza, hm? I'll be curious to see what you're making...

-First, shop. I will prepare everything for tonight.

You're about to say goodbye to her, when a genius idea comes to you.

- What if I buy candles?

- What for?

- You know...candlelit dinner?

- For delivery pizzas ? No thanks. And then, I'm lazy to do the dishes. They have grown so much that I start having back pain...

-Really? In this case, prepare your oils for a long and good massage.

You hear hear murmuring with satisfaction.

-Very well, brave knight. If you manage to kill the hunchbacked dragon, the princess will offer you more than an antipasti.

-It's a great honor you give me, my lady.

-Come on, hang up. The shop will not make it himself.

- See ya, sweetie.

-See ya, cutie.

You hang up, a smile on your lips. Never in your life had you had such spars with anyone before. Each of her words brings you joy. Hurry the day you move in with her : your happiness will be complete.

But now, groceries. Your phone is vibrating again. It's a text sent by Mandy.

"I called Georgina this morning, you just have to take the package and pay. It's a huge lucky break, she has just renewed her supplies and agreed to take back those of two weeks ago. I will repay you".

The advantage of being a loyal and regular customer for out-of-the-ordinary clothing is that the ladies around the globe forms a small private club where they can discuss and exchange advice and services. The shop she usually goes to is far away, but it's a warm one and the woman who holds it is super great. Georgina, the manager, is a little old woman as wrinkled as an apple and had the same chest problems. She quickly decided to help women like her. If the bras remaines expensive, she gladly takes over the old ones to retouch them. She's even made customized tailor-made. But as long as Mandy's breasts will continue to grow at a breakneck pace, it will be useless and she clearly told you that : "I should take new measurements immediately after my work is done. I'd never seen that ! Go on like this, my little one, and congratulations, young man ! "

The shop bell tolls when you enter into it. Some times later, Georgina comes out of the back shop and greets you, delighted as you go forward the sale desk.

-Ah, Daniel ! I received Mandy's message. This girl beats all records, I made a new storpile just for her ! Only two weeks, and you'd think she took six months all at once !

-Thank you, Georgina, this is the first time that happens ...

-Tell me about it ! I've never seen that ! Fortunately, I have a good contact in England. Tell her to slow down, she never listened to me! It's not like you're not already happy with what she have, huh?

You try to show a neutral face, as every time Georgina talks about your relationship. Some grandmothers are discreet, but the old seamstress would be able to collapse buildings just by talking. Like every time, you fail and can only display a shy smile.

- I'll tell him, thanks. How much do I owe you?

The old woman sweeps the air with her hand and rejects the imaginary money.

-Nothing ! We'll see that when she returns the others. Knowing her, she didn't even touch it. She made her measurements, but I put her several sizes just in case. She will only have to bring me back as soon as possible.

-Thank you so much for your generosity. Without you, we don't know what she would do.

-Bah, we have to stick together! It was even worse when I was young.. Corsets that choked you even more than the things I'm selling today ! I say, I can't wait the day we can go out without it, half naked, like you men, without being attacked at every street corner! It's not Mandy that would bother ! Beautiful melons as big and as firm as the pectorals of my late husband !

You agree, but you don't know what to say. You may have an empty look, because Georgina allows you to leave.

-Ah, you men ! Go find your beauty and make us beautiful children, it will make my pleasure !

-Yes Ma’am. Thank you Ma’am.

You leave the shop, a second opaque plastic bag in your hands. Even through it, you can feel the fabric of the cup. The more Mandy's breasts grow, the less they seems thick, padded, comfortable. As for the shoulder's straps, they must be tight to cut off her skin. You can't wait the day she'll be able to wear custom made bras for her ease. You send her a text.

"I have groceries and bras, Georgina didn't charge me and she added several sizes just in case."

The answer is quick to arrive.

"Really ? Wonderful ! I'm gonna jump on her neck when I see her. How long before you get in?"

"An hour, I just went out"

"Too looooong..."

You strat to write, but another one appears.

"Here's a little something that will make you want to come even more faster..."

A few seconds later, your reward appears on your screen. It's been a while since you're used to her chest, but your mouth is opening and it takes little to make you drool.

She never sent photos of her completely naked, preferring provocation in exciting clothes. Sometimes she sends you her pretty face. Sometimes full body in a simple, wise, accompanied by her long hair that always makes you fall in love with her when you gaze at them. This time, they are tied over her head, revealing her neck, shoulders and thin arms. She seems to come out of the shower, a few drops still bead of her soft skin A new pair of diving breasts, with monstrous cleavage, overflowing beyond a towel about to explode.

You totally understand the need for new bras. At sight of the nose, only the widest will fit.

And sh's only 21 years old. And she has not finished her growth yet.

In size, yes. Not in cup size.

A new text appears.

"Have you choosed your pizza yet ?"

"I don't know, I'm in a mood for a snack right now. A stuffed sandwich, if you know what I mean ;-)"

“I thought you was in a romantic mood ? Candles of for lightning, not for BDSM, we agrée ?”

"You're impossible, as your jokes"

"No, I'm real. Why don't you touch me, if you don't believe ? I'm still waiting for my brave bra knight ;-) ".

The bus is here. You close your phone, ranks right at the bottom of your pocket so that no one can suspect your activities, and you sit down in a quiet corner. 

Something tells you that you will not have time for eating tonight.

__________

Model is MandaDawn, on Patreon and Onlyfans. That photo is clearly not the best, from two or three years ago when she was on tumblr, but I don’t know why, it inspired me with the force of a train. I barely touched her story since her breasts are effectively still growing, for an actual X cup.

[vennilavee]

to build a home - ch 5

diamonds in the dark

TBAH masterlist

Pairing: levi x reader (attack on titan)

Summary: a modern au where you and levi both work for the Survey Corps, a non-profit organization with a mission to help the youth of the Underground District.

chapter summary: a night with you and your friends. a night with levi and his friends. a night together.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol, sexual themes, levi gets head and i mean reader does too but that’s a given

Word Count: 7259

Levi watches from the door frame with his arms crossed across his chest as you apply one last swipe of your mascara to your lashes. You pucker your lips for just another coat of gloss. His favorite gloss, he notes. It had subconsciously become your favorite, too.

“You look good,” Levi says, his voice flat as ever.

You’re so used to Levi moving silently that his sudden appearance doesn’t even make you jump. Passing him a bright smile, you look at yourself in the mirror again. You’re well aware of his steely gaze on you, especially when you decide to keep your hair pulled back and out of your face.

“Can I help you with somethin’, Levi,” You drawl and walk past him and straight to his cologne. 

Tonight, you feel like wearing his cologne over your own perfume and Levi lets out a noise of protest.

“You gonna replace that bottle when you use it up? It was a present,” Levi says when you start spritzing yourself.

“Yeah. A present from me,” You roll your eyes.

Levi finally approaches you, hands skimming along your waist and brushing over the flowy material of your top. It’s a low cut muted orange colored top, leaving plenty of room for him to press his lithe fingers to your exposed chest.

You hold your necklace in front of him, silently asking him to clasp it for you. His touch against your bare neck sends a barely concealed shudder to wrack your spine deliciously. Then, the pads of his fingers press into the column of your neck, followed by the flutter of his warm lips. A soft sigh escapes your lips when he tightens his hold around your waist and turns you around for a barely there kiss to your lips.

Before you can cling to him, he pulls away with a devious look in his eye.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Your friends are waiting, sweetheart,” He says, patting your thigh expectantly.

“Thanks for your concern over my punctuality, honey,” You roll your eyes but can’t resist a smile, “Wanna have a drink with me?”

You have a heavy hand when you mix drinks, and one drink turns into two quickly. For you at least. Levi had silenced your offer to call an Uber to your friend’s apartment for the pregame with a heavy glare. A glare like that means that it’s not up for discussion, you had quickly come to realize.

Music is playing from your speakers, something fun that would normally make you want to dance. It’s low, but still loud enough to pump through your veins. But you just watch Levi over the rim of your glass. You quickly finish your drink, feeling the soft tendrils of tipsiness clouding your mind warmly. Leaning into Levi, you nuzzle into him and lean closer to kiss up his jaw and down his neck.

“You gonna start something you won’t finish?” Levi asks dryly, voice cutting through the thick air. His hands are loose around your waist and you push yourself closer to him, to get him to touch you more, more, more.

He receives a playful shove to his shoulder in return. While you knew normally your friends wouldn’t care if you were a little late just because you were getting dicked down before a night out. But tonight is different- a friend of yours had just broken up with her long-term significant other.

You understand the need to unwind and let loose, having been through the same thing yourself with your ex.

Levi is nothing if not punctual, too.

“C’mon,” Levi says, patting your head fondly, “Your friends are waiting. And they’ll blame me if you’re late.”

“No, they won’t. They’ll know it was because of me.”

“Because you can’t keep your hands off of me.”

“Exactly.”

***

Levi presses a kiss to your lips as you leave the car and blow a kiss to him, excitement coursing through your veins at the prospect of a fun night out with your girlfriends. 

He doesn’t let you leave before telling you to keep your eyes open and be smart. It’s his way of telling you and your friends to be safe, and to call him if anything happens.

“I hope you don’t sprain your ankle in those boots.”

“It was one time!” You roll your eyes but press a kiss to his jaw anyway.

Levi drives away when you text him letting him know that you’ve gotten inside your friend’s apartment. He’s looking forward to his night of catching up with his television shows, the ones that you don’t particularly enjoy, with a cup of chamomile tea.

You send him a few selfies of yourself with your friends and as the night progresses, he can see drunkenness dotting the edges of your dark eyes. Once the steady stream of selfies stops, he knows you’re probably dancing or drinking. Or both.

If he’s being honest, Levi spent quite a lot of time in the beginning wondering how you two were so compatible. You were almost opposite to him- sometimes loud, sometimes quiet, sometimes affectionate, sometimes needing space, you enjoyed spontaneity where he enjoyed stability. 

You were every color of the palette, vibrant and unabashedly so, while he was just… grey. Plain, boring, unassuming grey. 

He remembers the first time he had voiced the perceived differences out loud, as if it was a cold, hard fact and it wasn’t bothering him and splintering his mind. You had immediately countered him, telling him that just because you both were different didn’t mean that he didn’t belong with you. You knew it wouldn’t be the first time it came up, but you were ready for it when it did.

Since then, some of your colors have brushed over him, hues of pinks, yellows, purples painted over him in uneven stripes with the passage of time. He hadn’t even realized it. He’s mellowed you out and you’ve made him vibrant, in his own way. But you’re still distinctly you, and Levi is still distinctly him. 

That’s what a long term relationship is, he supposes. Give and take.

Levi is sprawled out on the couch under his favorite fuzzy blanket and he’s propped up on the throw pillow so his back doesn’t hurt in the morning. You’ve scoffed at him and called him an old man, while simultaneously doing the same so your back doesn’t hurt later in the day as well.

He reminds you every time you call him an old man that you’re older than him. And of course, you protest that you’re only older than him by a few months. And he responds with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Levi tugs the sleeves of your purple hoodie around his wrists and presses his feet into the blanket. Your muted, woodsy scent hidden in the threads of your hoodie curls around him as if it’s you. He runs warm generally, but he’s not above admitting that he enjoys being cozy.

The clean scent of the freshly lit candle on the coffee table wraps around him, and with the low sounds of the television, your warm embrace in the form of your hoodie- he can’t help but close his eyes. Just for a second..

***

If there’s anything you’re good at, it’s playing wingwoman for your friends. As the only woman in a long term relationship out of your few friends outside of work, you had taken it upon yourself to play matchmaker where you could. Especially tonight, for your friend who had just gotten dumped.

Levi always rolled his eyes at you, telling you to mind your own business. But you knew he didn’t mean it, especially if it was just harmless hook ups. After all, you remember how your friends had rallied around you after your own terrible break-up. It feels like a far away memory now. Almost like a movie replaying in the back of your eyelids.

If you could share the experience of love with your dear friends, it was worth it. Even for just a night.

You’ve successfully seen her off with a man in the club, probably sucking face while shrouded in darkness. Your other friends circle you at the bar and you eagerly order a round of drinks and shots. And then another.

A night out was always a fun time with you and your close friends. These nights became rarer the older you got, what with more responsibilities and conflicting schedules. Dayo, Luna and Nari were your friends from college. Some of the few that you had kept in contact with all these years after graduation.

Nari’s the one currently sucking face with a perceived stranger, while Dayo and Luna flank either side of you at the bar.

“Cheers,” You shout over the music, “To my bitches, to love, and to money!”

The three of you link arms to take your shots before washing it down with a drink. Luna leads the way to the dance floor and you can’t help but keep a wary eye out for any unwelcome attention.

You’re glad that the night is devoid of that type of attention. It’s just a night of bright lights, smoke, booze, and your friends. Some of your favorite kinds of nights.

The three of you are dancing and singing along to the music with bright smiles. It feels like it’s just the three of you in the entire club. You’re certain your limbs and your throat will be sore the next morning, from how low the three of you are getting-

Your thirties are no joke, or so they say.

You love the way the music pumps through your blood, dancing with the sweet sting of alcohol as it makes its way through your veins. You don’t know what time it is when Nari finally sends you a text saying that she’s going to go home with the guy she was hooking up with- you only tell her to be safe. He’s a mutual friend of Luna’s, and she can vouch for him. She hugs you goodbye eagerly.

That leaves only you, Dayo and Luna to dance and drink the night away. And so you do, way past the point of your feet beginning to ache and past the point of feeling dazed from the alcohol. 

Luna stifles a yawn behind her hand but you catch it.

“You guys wanna go home?” You ask, nearly shouting above the music.

“I mean… if y’wanna,” Luna shrugs with a drunken smile.

You’re already texting Levi, asking if he’d pick you guys up. He replies even before you type out a third text, telling you that he’s on his way to the club and you send him a kissy face emoji.

A stream of butterflies erupts in your belly at the thought of seeing your man.

***

Levi shoots you a glare as he unlocks the car doors for you and your friends to get in. Normally, he’d at least pull over to make sure that the three of you are safely inside and not inclined to throw up in his car. But he’s in the middle of a busy street and cars are already honking at him.

He hates it, but it washes away once you clumsily slink into the passenger seat and press a quick kiss of greeting to his jaw. 

“Where’s Nari?” Levi asks once he makes a right at the light to get out of the city.

“Had an impromptu dick appointment,” Luna laughs behind her hand and Levi hears you and Dayo chuckle with her.

“Not with her asshole ex?” Levi says mildly.

“No way, whaddaya take us for, Levi?” Dayo says airily.

Levi’s lips quirk up at that but he remains quiet. You’re dreamily staring at your boyfriend, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other in his lap. You struggle to stifle your gasp when you realize he’s wearing your hoodie.

It gives you butterflies. Again.

***

“Drink some water,” Levi murmurs softly but firmly. 

He tips the glass to your lips and you chug half of it easily. A lazy grin spreads across your face before you head into your bedroom and change out of your clothes.

Levi catches your jeans before they hit the floor in your haste to put on comfortable clothes.

“Levi,” You complain, “Help me, Levi. Stop just standin’ there.”

“Go take a shower,” Levi says flatly, “You smell like alcohol and smoke. ‘M not sleepin’ with you if that’s how you’re coming to bed.”

“Levi! ‘M tired. And drunk,” You mumble but you take your towel with you to the bathroom.

You know he’s not kidding when he says he won’t sleep with you if you smell like a bar.

“Don’t I know it,” Levi mutters.

It’s a quick shower, despite you dropping the bottle of Levi’s body wash three times. You don’t think you have the coordination or energy to wash your hair, so Levi can just deal with it.

You stumble a bit even after you get out of the shower, moisturize and change into a long sleeved shirt and shorts. Trying carefully to not knock anything over, you’re nearly successful until you end up in a twist of your limbs on the floor somehow. With a sigh, you lift yourself up from the floor, your legs feeling like cement blocks.

Levi pokes his head through the doorway but you wave him off.

By the time you venture out into the living room, Levi already has water and food ready for you. Your heart flutters at the gesture.

“I showered,” You mumble, sinking into the couch and into his embrace.

“I can tell,” Levi hums and tips the glass of water to your lips for you to drink.

“I’m clean. So y’can kiss me now,” You inform him, peering up at him with wide, drunk eyes.

“Woulda kissed you anyways,” Levi says and gestures for you to finish your glass of water. You quickly finish it without breaking eye contact with him and he wonders if you’re trying to be sexy for him. But instead, you just look sleepy.

You accidentally knock into his nose when you try to press a kiss to his lips and he lets out a breathy chuckle in response.

“Let’s go to bed. Think it’s past your bedtime,” Levi says, kissing the crown of your head.

Instead, you curl a hand into the collar of his shirt and push your lips to his, swallowing his soft noise of surprise. Your fingers move like honey through his dark hair, dipping into his hair and scratching his undercut. Levi doesn’t hide his noise of approval as he exhales into your mouth. He makes you dizzy with his musk, your belly flipping when he cups your neck. You raise your leg and slide into his lap enthusiastically, nearly knocking your head into his nose. But you pay no mind to it, only leaning into Levi’s touch as he pats your head.

You pull away just for a fraction of a second for a breath before dropping kisses and sucking on the supple skin of his jaw-his chin- his neck. A hand snakes back into his hair as you push into him, hip to hip and chest to chest. Your hips roll into his clumsily, but you gain your rhythm and enjoy the way he rolls his hips in response. You pull his hair slightly, tightening your grip when his eyes pop open. You yank his hair back, exposing the column of his pretty throat to you and relishing in his soft groan and the growing hardness against your inner thigh.

Levi catches the gleam in your dark eyes before you bite and soothe a spot below his ear, then down his neck and over his collarbones. You shiver as his hands squeeze your thighs, his fingers trailing upwards to disappear under your shorts and indent the flesh of your hips. His touches sent a pleasant buzz through you, sweet and sultry in all the ways that the alcohol coursing through your veins isn’t.

You tug his shirt over his head, barely even noticing that he had changed out of your hoodie and into a sleep shirt. Hunger curls in your belly at the sight of his bare chest, of the smooth and scarred planes of his chest that you call home, of the smattering of hair leading from his navel into his shorts.

Levi tosses his head back as you sloppily kiss your way down his neck, down his chest, fingers raking over his abdomen. You slide out of his lap and onto the floor, hands blazing over his thighs and squeezing. He almost chokes when he sees your wide eyes and the small gathering of drool at the corner of your mouth. You lick your lips eagerly, and without warning, you palm his hardness. Levi hisses at your sudden movement but you only look at him sheepishly.

“Wanna put y’to bed, baby,” You mumble hoarsely and Levi swallows at the look of earnest shining in your eyes, “Wanna put y’to bed s’good, baby…”

Levi does choke as he gasps, after you pull his shorts off and do that thing with your mouth that he likes. Spit coats your lips and his cock as he thrusts into your pretty mouth. The sounds you pull from him shoot straight down to your core, and you know you’re already slick. Somehow, despite your still slightly drunken haze, your movements are somewhat coordinated as you hollow out your cheeks to take all of him in your mouth in stripes and licks.  He likes it a little sloppy, a little messy when your tongue darts out and slicks his cock with your spit. Words die in his throat when you choke as you try to take all of him in your mouth and when you peer up at him with teary but determined eyes. A string of spit follows your wrecked lips when you pull away with a soft pop. Your lips are bitten, stained with his cum as it dribbles down your chin. 

You lick your lips slowly, the dangerous but lazy smile never leaving your face.

“Whattsa matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?” You grin and lewdly wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Levi tugs your hand and lifts you into his lap, wordlessly giving you a deep kiss. His arms are tight around your waist, and you are unabashed in your desire for him as you stutter your hips into his.

He pulls away and stares at you intensely, in that way that nearly sobers you up instantly. His mouth is on your neck and his hands peel you out of your shorts quickly. Levi touches you everywhere, except for where you need him most.

“Levi,” You complain breathily, “Stop teasin’ me-”

He pushes you so that you’re laying down on the sofa and it takes you a few seconds to react. You part your legs for him instantly and buck your hips in the air for his attention. Levi slides a hand over your bare thighs before dotting your inner thighs with barely there kisses. Your hands slide through his hair once more and tug gently. Levi moans against your slick and the sound sends yet another stab of arousal through you.

“Cat got your tongue?” Levi mimics you with a raise of his eyebrow at your silence, only your soft moans fill the air.

Instead of replying, you push his head closer to your glistening arousal and groan when you feel the warmth of his tongue on your heated skin.

***

You’re dozing off against Levi’s shoulder, warmth spreading through your limbs and settling in your bones. Levi’s voice is quiet in your ear and you hum, barely registering his words.

“C’mon, angel. Let’s go to bed,” Levi says and nudges your jaw with his nose.

“Alright, grandpa,” You mutter, but you get up from the couch anyway after eating the food Levi had set out for you. Levi puts your plate and glass in the sink and double checks the locks before climbing into bed next to you. You’re eagerly waiting, the sheets drawn back and his usual spot ready.

Levi quickly washes his face and moisturizes before settling in bed. You instantly curl up against him, melding into his side as if it was reflex. Which it was.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Levi asks easily, wrapping an arm around your waist and peering at you.

Your ear is pressed against his neck and his voice rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your skin. You hum in response, sneaking a hand under his shirt and rubbing his chest.

“Girls night was a lot of fun,” You murmur, turning your head upwards to press a featherlight kiss to his neck. 

“‘M glad,” Levi says, “Nari needed it. She was a mess the last time we saw her.”

“I know,” You sigh, “She needs time. She’ll be okay.”

Levi squeezes your waist and you move your hand away to curl it around his face. Your breaths are soft against his face, fondness in the center of your still slightly blown out pupils. Arms wrap around his neck until you’re half on top of him and your lips are melted to his. Levi feels the gentle rise and fall of your chest against his as you tilt your head and deepen the kiss. You taste mostly like the mouthwash that sits on your sink, but Levi tastes undercurrents of tequila on your tongue, too.

Your leg wraps around his waist and your eyelids flutter with the sudden warmth he’s radiating. Being close to him this late at night always pushes you to sleep, especially with the addition of alcohol.

But still, you try to keep your eyes open. To catch a glimpse of your angel with silver eyes, so that he’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

You’re too lazy to even pull your lips properly away, instead hoarsely whispering a soft ‘love you’ into his mouth. Your eyes close as he kisses your forehead and tightens his hold around you.

“Good night, angel.”

You and Levi seem to be just missing each other. You’ve been away at client meetings during the day, so you haven’t had the chance to see him much. Your last client meeting was close to home, so you just took the bus to get home. Levi had stayed a little late at work and decided to have some tea with Mikasa and Eren.

He had scoffed when you had told him that he’d make a good mentor to them. And yet, here he was.

And then he had been roped into a night out with Mike and Erwin. Something about Mike wanting to celebrate his anniversary with Nanaba. To which Levi had replied, “shouldn’t you be celebrating with her?”

And Mike’s response was, “We already celebrated. Besides, think of it as practice for the wedding.”

And now, Levi was driving home to get changed for a night out that he was growing less and less averse to. It’s been a while, he muses. Since he had a night out with just the boys.

How does the saying go? Saturdays are for the boys?

You’d tease him for it.

Levi comes home to find you freshly showered after a workout and lounging on the couch with a glass of red wine in bike shorts and a muscle tank.

You peek up from the couch, setting your nearly untouched wine glass on the table to greet him eagerly.

“Hey,” You murmur, wrapping your arms around him instantly and kissing him quickly.

He can taste the Shiraz on your tongue and it’s sweet and oaky at the same time.

“Hey yourself,” Levi greets you and pulls away to toe his shoes off and set his backpack by the wall.

“I heard you’re having a boys night tonight,” You say and follow him to the bedroom, where he starts undressing himself for a quick shower.

“Mike wants to celebrate his anniversary,” Levi rolls his eyes, “I think he just wants a reason to get shitfaced. According to him, it’s practice for the wedding.”

“That’s as good a reason as any,” You grin and rub his bare back.

“He should be celebrating with Nanaba,” Levi says under his breath.

“So I shouldn’t plan a girls night for our next anniversary to celebrate?” You tease him and he looks at you, scandalized. 

“If I ever tell you that I want a boys night for our anniversary, you can leave me,” Levi confirms, but you hear the airy amusement in his voice.

“Oh, stop,” You laugh, swatting his shoulder, “Their anniversary was days ago and they celebrated, trust me.”

You wink at him and he rolls his eyes. He’s certain the details of their anniversary celebration are located in the groupchat with Nanaba and Hange. Details that he doesn’t need or want to know.

“Besides, I think it’s sweet. Our friends want to share and celebrate love with us,” You say dreamily.

“You’re corny,” Levi says and pats your head, “Now move aside. I’m gonna shower, and no, we’re not taking a shower together.”

You gasp in offense, “And why not?”

“I’m on a time crunch and us showering together is a waste of water. And, you just showered.”

“I can keep my hands to myself, Levi, thank you very much.”

“No, you can’t,” Levi scoffs and is about to shut the door to the bathroom in your face.

“Fine, I wanna have sex,” You whine, holding the door open with your hand and letting out a giggle when he rolls his eyes, “Excuse me, for wanting to have sex with my incredibly hot boyfriend with his big hands and his big-”

This time, Levi does slam the door in your face and he hears you loudly cackling back into the living room. 

***

Levi, as punctual as ever, has a little less than an hour to spare before heading to Mike’s apartment to meet up with him and Erwin.

“You look hot,” You inform him, hands fixing his collar as he smoothes hair product into his still damp strands. The buttons of his shirt are still undone, exposing his undershirt and giving you plenty of access to run your hands over his chest.

A noise of acknowledgement escapes his lips in response. He’s wearing a black button up tucked into his slacks, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, with black slacks that sit just right on his thighs and his ass. They’re your favorite pants on him, and he knows it. A tan belt circles his waist, highlighting just enough for you to want more of him.

“Wanna have a drink with me before you leave? It’s the least you could do, since you denied me shower sex,” You murmur playfully in his ear as he does the buttons up of his shirt.

“Like I’d ever say no to having a drink with you.”

“Saying no to me is like second nature to you. Please refer to about twenty minutes ago-”

“Alright, princess. You’re right, I’m wrong,” Levi rolls his eyes, “Help me put this on.”

It’s a necklace- specifically, it’s one of your necklaces that he’s decided is now his. It’s a gold chain with a lilac pendant encased around a ring of gold.

You lick your lips and swallow to wet your suddenly dry throat. You step behind him, taking your time with clasping the necklace and turning it so that the pendant is facing forward. It’s almost hidden by the highest button of his shirt, but you catch the glint of it with the light. A soft caress of your fingertips over the back of your neck is replaced by your lips. But just for a second.

Levi meets your eyes in the mirror before turning around to face you. You unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt, to allow for his skin to breathe. And also for your own self-serving interests. A hand curls your cheek and Levi runs a thumb over your bottom lip, a featherlight touch, before leaning forward to melt his lips to yours.

He tightens his group around your waist and dips you slightly, to your surprise. The scent of his cologne, woody and musky, cocoons you as you smile into his kiss. Your hand is warm against his neck, your other hand lazily scratching his chest. You deepen his kiss eagerly, arms shifting to lock behind his head as you tilt your chin, barely breaking for a breath.

“Come, I’ll make us drinks,” Levi says, patting your ass fondly.

And truly, what is better than your man making you a drink of his own choosing?

You stand close to him, chin on his shoulder and catching welcome whiffs of his cologne.

“Cheers,” Levi says, handing you your glass and clinking his with yours.

“Cheers, honey,” You murmur and take a long sip of your drink.

He knows his way around your palate, but each time he makes you something, you’re impressed.

You kiss his cheek in gratitude and he gestures for you to join him on the couch.

Convincing Levi that you would both be careful enough to not spill on the pristine couch had taken a while. Of course, you were clumsy and there had been a few incidents where you had spilled wine on the couch. 

You had been subjected to Levi’s quiet irritation each time, and it wasn’t a fun feeling.

“Bring coasters,” Levi calls from the couch, with your drinks in his hands. 

“Yes, your majesty,” You roll your eyes but comply, setting two matching coasters on the coffee table. 

Levi is about halfway done with his drink by the time you join him and you pout at him playfully.

“First, you ignore me all day. Then, you don’t let me spend time with you in the shower. And now you won’t even share your drink with me,” You say, counting your fingers, “three strikes, baby-“

Levi sets his drink on the coaster and pushes you so that your back is against the sofa.

“Oh. What a precarious position you have me in,” You say dryly.

“I’ll show you three strikes, baby,” Levi murmurs into your neck, biting you.

“What, you gonna make me cum three times before you leave? You only have thirty minutes,” You taunt him with a smirk.

“You challenging me or something’?” 

“Not much of a challenge if you can’t do it-“

“You and I both know that that’s a lie and that you’ve been horny as shit since this morning-“

“Because you always leave me high and dry!”

“Oh, do I?” Levi asks cockily with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No,” You sigh in defeat and buck your hips towards him. 

“Or… you can wait till I get home. Don’t want your liquids on my clothes.”

“My what? God, Levi, you make everything sound so romantic,” You roll your eyes, “Fuckin’ tease.”

“Fine, I don’t want your cum on my clothes,” Levi says bluntly, “How’s that for romance?”

“What happened to ‘happy wife, happy life’,” You mutter.

“Not applicable, where’s the ring on your finger?” Levi lifts himself off of you, pressing a kiss to your lips and pulls you into his side. You instantly curl into him and take a few sips of your drink.

“I don’t know, been wondering that myself,” You nudge him and shove your right hand in his face.

Levi instantly stiffens next to you and you notice immediately.

“Have you? Have you been wondering?” His voice is soft, a far cry from the teasing only a few minutes ago.

“What? No, Levi, I’m just messing with you,” You reassure him, “I’m happy like this, baby. Are you?” 

“Yes, but-“

“If I want more, I’ll tell you what I’m thinking. I told you I would. No guessing games, baby,” You murmur and kiss his jaw. He relaxes with your slight touches and downs the rest of his drink.

You take his hand in yours and squeeze. Levi presses his nose into your neck and tilts his head, his lips brushing against your skin. 

“Do you want me to pick you up? From the bar?” You inquire softly, reaching around to scratch the back of his neck.

“No, it’ll be late. I’ll figure it out with Erwin and Mike.”

“You sure, baby? I don’t mind-“

“I’m sure. It’s fine,” Levi murmurs, “It’s fine, angel.”

Your face heats up and Levi’s lips upturn slightly.

“You’re tired,” Levi says, gripping your chin and peering into your dark eyes.

“Wake me up when you come home, then,” You reply, rubbing his arm, “Let me at least drop you off, then.”

“We’ll leave in twenty?” Levi asks and you nod, “Enough time for me to make you cum at least twice.”

Your heart flutters at that and he pushes you back on the couch, sliding up your torso to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

“You’ve been needy,” Levi murmurs, “Been waiting for me, haven’t you?”

You swallow and nod eagerly. 

“Good girl,” Levi says throatily, fingers skimming your sides as he pulls your tank off and rolls his hips into yours. A hand presses over your clothed center and you groan at the friction. 

It’s been a few days. You’re sensitive.

He already knew you weren’t wearing a bra, from the way your chest had brushed against him countless times earlier. You hardly ever do, when you’re just at home with him. Levi’s mouth is already on your neck, sucking spots down your chest slowly. His mouth is warm and wet- you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist to keep him there.

Soft calls of his name pour from your lips. His ears are ringing with the honey of your raspy voice and he makes it a mission to pull more of your breathy sounds from your throat.

“You gonna let me make you feel good?” Levi murmurs, squeezing your hips. The sound of his voice reverberates through your blood and you shudder.

He waits for your nod before peeling your shorts off of you and pressing his mouth to your hips reverently.

“Levi,” You breathe, “No teasing.”

With that, he stops talking.

***

“Have fun tonight,” You reply as you pull up to Mike’s apartment building and unlock his side of the door, “Call me if you need anything, honey.”

You lean over to peck his lips quickly.

“I will,” Levi promises and dips his head for a longer, sweet kiss. 

Before you can convince him to take him back home, he leaves the car and casts one fleeting look at you before heading up to the building. You wait for his text, stating that he’s inside Mike’s apartment, before driving away.

It’s just you, your bed, and your book tonight.

***

Levi prefers to be at places like this with you, if he has to be there at all. He can appreciate a good boy’s night, but tonight, he mostly just misses you.

You had been away for the last few days, coming home late and going to bed immediately. And before that, it had been him who was away for a few days. You both had been trying to play catch up with each other, but it hadn’t been enough. Not yet.

Levi absently listens to Mike talk about Nanaba, and is hit with a sudden longing for you. Maybe it’s the alcohol- but he thinks not. He’s only had two drinks so far, and is currently nursing the second one. He starts to impatiently bounce his leg, warily checking the time on his phone.

It’s about thirty minutes later, when Levi is hardly listening to Erwin and Mike, that Erwin just sighs at Levi.

“You’re here, but you’re not here,” Erwin says with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah. You know what, ‘m gonna leave. I miss my girl,” Levi says bluntly and quickly finishes his drink.

“I can respect that,” Mike nods and clasps Levi’s shoulder.

Levi leaves the bar after that, hailing a cab in record time. He wonders if you’ll be surprised when you see him. The thought brings heat to his cheeks.

He must be drunk. Or at least tipsy.

***

You’re curled on the couch with a blanket over your legs, feet perched on the ottoman with a half finished glass of wine on the coffee table. You have your glasses on and you’re reading a book, one that you had started months ago but had never gotten around to finishing. A candle of your favorite, semi-sweet scent is lit and it wafts through your apartment. The record player is playing soft tunes as you read- you’ve always hated the sound of a completely silent room.

The sound of the front door opening nearly misses your ears but you hear the soft click as it closes. Levi pushes his shoes off impatiently and you catch a glimpse of his pink cheeks.

“Hi,” You say, waving at him from the couch, “You’re home early.”

“Yes,” Levi says simply. 

“It’s not even midnight yet,” You press, opening your arms for him to slide into. 

He looks like he considers it for a second, but then turns away to wash up and change into comfortable clothes. If there’s anything to say about Levi, it’s that he hates being in ‘outside clothes’ when he’s at home. 

You feel the same way. Maybe that’s why you both fit so well together.

You make your way over to the bedroom to wait for Levi to emerge from the bathroom. He’s freshly showered and the pink tint on his cheeks hasn’t gone away fully. 

“It’s fuckin’ hot,” Levi says flatly, deciding to omit a shirt. 

“Think it’s just you, honey,” You murmur, flipping the page of your book. 

You feel the bed dip with his weight as he lays in his spot. You pay him no mind, wanting to see how far he’ll go for your attention. 

You knew why he came home early. Because he missed you, and because he missed you. Levi had even texted you when he was out, a simple black heart. But still, he doesn’t do that often.

He lays next to you, nearly brushing your shoulder. He’s not close enough to see what you’re reading and he’s not close enough to realize that you’ve been reading the same sentence for the last few minutes.

Levi shifts a few inches closer to you subtly. Close enough that he can brush your bare calf with his foot. You barely react, holding in the laugh that you want to let out.

You can sense his frustration beginning to build. But still, he says nothing. He leans his head against your shoulder and your free hand immediately cards through his damp strands. You start and stop playing with his hair randomly, teasing him, and his frustration rears its head again.

Apparently, he’s had enough, because he takes the book straight from your hands and tosses it to the other end of the bed.

“I was reading that,” You protest, but can’t help a smile from forming on your face.

“No, you weren’t,” Levi scoffs.

His attention to detail always amazes you.

“Yeah, you’re right,” You admit, “Why’d you come home early, huh?”

You tease and playfully shove his shoulder. He avoids answering, choosing instead to roll on top of you and press a kiss to your shoulder. Then your neck. Then your lips.

You prompt him again with a press of your finger to his bare shoulder. He huffs at you, and his ears begin to turn pink as well.

“Rather be with you,” Levi murmurs and you break out into a grin.

“I know,” You whisper, “But our friends like spending time with you, too.”

“We’ve been missing each other for the last two weeks,” Levi exhales, “It felt like too much. Too long.”

“Yeah. I know, honey,” You reply, “Right here is where I wanna be, too.”

Fingers trail the sharp, corded planes of his shoulders before drifting downwards and lingering over his lower back. Your nails are firm but gentle over his skin.

This is his favorite part. Well, one of them.

You crane your neck upwards for a kiss and Levi is all too eager to oblige. His hair tickles your cheeks and you use your free hand to run your hands through it.

“You taste like oranges,” You murmur when you pull away.

“Didn’t wanna taste like bourbon,” Levi shrugs.

“How thoughtful of you-”

He captures your lips again, cutting you off mid-sentence. You cup his face, thumbs running over his cheekbones as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Levi kisses you like you’ll disappear, his tongue sliding into your mouth with little resistance.

Levi pulls away first, only looking at you intensely. His steel eyes are darkened by desire, but you see his affection, too. 

“Show me, baby,” You mumble, “Show me how much you missed me-”

And he does.

You thought you’d be ready. You thought you could hold it together, at least until the mojitos started flowing. But you couldn’t, not when you saw the look of pure happiness radiating from Nanaba as she entered the backyard, hand in hand with Mike. A sweet sort of romance is in the air, curling around you as your lashes flutter at the sight of the newly engaged couple.

Mike had just proposed to Nanaba and of course, she had said yes. 

You had helped lead the charge for decorating his backyard with some of her friends. Fairy lights were strewn around the deck, a small backdrop with an array of flowers lacing up and over it to take pictures in front of, and tents with tables for people to sit in. Buckets of ice with bottles of champagne are on one of the wooden tables, with frames of photos of Mike and Nanaba.

It’s everything Nanaba wanted, and you can tell from the expression of awe in her eyes. 

You force yourself to hold it together for a little longer. But Mike gives a speech, it’s short and sweet and a succinct proclamation of his love for Nanaba and for his friends.

Levi tugs your hand in his and squeezes. He can tell you’re about to cry, your bottom lip trembling as you try to suppress the urge. You bite down on your lip but your dark eyes still water.

You are just so happy for your friends. You’re in love with love. In this moment, everything feels weightless and you feel like infinity.

“Your mascara will run,” Levi says softly, pulling you towards the back of the crowd and into his side.

You let out a watery laugh and furiously wipe at your eyes. But Levi pushes your fingers away, dabbing under your eyes gently with his thumb.

Seeing other people in love makes you feel incredible. Because you’re reminded of Levi every time. You’re reminded of the man you love, the man that you were meant to be with.

“I love you,” You say helplessly, hopelessly, “So much. I love you.”

“I love you,” Levi says, the tips of his ears reddening. 

You peck him lightly, the faint taste of mint lingering on your lips. Levi rubs your back and walks you both to the happy couple to congratulate them.

You can’t help the bright smile or the fresh tears in your eyes, dotting them like the stars that hang above you.

[evanoracronwell]

Sunrise

Malex Cupid 2021 by @malex-cupid​

Day 3: “Do you know what today is?”

Also on ao3

__________________________________________________________

It is the sound of the phone ringing that awakens him.

With a grunt, he rolls over the bed until he reaches the nightstand and picks up the device, when he sees the notification on the screen the smile opens on his lips, and any irritation at being woken up disappears.

I'm already on my way home.

I can't wait to see you.

Love you.

Alex.

Alex, his beautiful and irresistible boyfriend.

And fuck if Michael would ever get tired of that word.

Smiling like a teenager, Michael answered the message, and as soon as he pressed to send he heard the growl coming from his feet on the bed. Wrinkling his nose, he looked at the beagle spread on the bed with his face completely mashed from sleeping.

"What is it, girl? It's not that early, it was almost time to get up anyway. We have a lot of things to take care of today"

With an excitement that made Buffy snort indignantly, Michael got out of bed and goes straight to the bathroom to take a quick shower and finish waking up.

Today was a very important day.

It was the first Valentine's Day that he and Alex would spend together, as a couple.

And well, honestly speaking, it was the first Valentine's Day that Michael would celebrate at all. He had no idea how to make it work. But it had to be perfect.

Because Alex deserved nothing but perfection.

So he changed his clothes and get ready to start the day.

He took Buffy for a walk even though the dog was clearly outraged about getting out of bed so early on Sunday morning.

He cleaned the whole cabin, feeling extremely proud of the home he built with Alex.

Now completely renovated, the cabin barely resembled that house that Alex had inherited from old Jim.

The couple's bedroom had been painted a light color, the bed replaced by a king bed, the wardrobe custom-made by Michael himself. The chair in the corner where Buffy always took refuge to sleep when she wasn't in bed with them.

The bathroom had been enlarged and adapted to Alex's needs, the treat they had done to themselves by buying a hot tub, and that they spent hours and hours in the water relaxing after a tiring day.

The living room now has a huge and comfortable sofa, armchairs and a television.

The kitchen had been renovated and modernized.

Everything was so perfect, so ... theirs.

The photos were scattered around the rooms. Showing captured moments of happiness between him, Alex, and the whole gang.

After so many years, Michael finally had a home to call his own.

And most importantly, a home with Alex. What made it even more special

With the house clean it was Buffy's turn to face the terrible shower, and the cowboy could only laugh while the dog whimpered as if she were suffering the worst torture at the hand of one of her fathers. But there she was, bathed and smelling the baby scent of the products they bought at the pet store, and with a pretty red bow that Isobel had made to buy for the dog.

And that was exactly why today had to be just perfect.

Because after eight months of living together, he would finally ask the hand of that beautiful man in marriage.

"Okay girl, now you behave yourself because Dad needs to go out and buy things to make dinner. Your daddy will be here tonight." He smiled when he saw how Buffy immediately reacted to Alex's mention. "That's right, girl, he'll be back today."

Michael had also changed a lot, months ago he had opened his own mechanical garage after old Sander decided to retire, the place had undergone a major renovation and was nowhere near the old Junkyard. Michael even had employees working with him, well ... just two kids that Michael was still training and teaching everything. But they were good kids and above all, hardworking, and after all, Michael never even imagined that he would have his own business.

As he drove to the market downtown, Michael found himself thinking about how much life had changed.

After Alex finally left the air force, he got a job at a private security company in Washington, but luckily he could work remotely, they paid extremely well and it made the job too perfect for Alex to turn down, so now taking the few trips he took to personally attend a few customers, Alex was always at home.

When parking the truck in front of the market, the cowboy smiled when he saw his sister standing at the front door waiting for him.

"You know when I said I was coming to the market when you called me, it wasn't an invitation for you to join me." Michael grunted, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a shopping cart and Isobel joined him in the aisles.

"Please, as if you could keep me away. Now tell me, how are the preparations for the big night?"

"I already cleaned the whole cabin and bathed Buffy and yes, I put on the bow you brought her yesterday."

"Great, my niece has to be beautiful. The candles?"

"I have already spread some of those aromatic candles around the house, I will light them as soon as I hear his car pull over. The delivery man left the flowers for me just before I left the house, they are already in the water and I will finish fixing them when I return home."

"Your clothes?"

"Washed and ironed."

"The ring?"

"On my nightstand."

"Your heart?"

"Coming out from my mouth."

Isobel laughed out loud at her brother's terrified look and hugged him around the waist, laying her head on his shoulder as she watched Michael go putting all the items in the cart.

"Michael, he loves you. Nothing is going to go wrong tonight, trust me. He will say yes. There is no couple in the world more perfect for each other than the two of you."

"We really are perfect together, aren't we?"

Isobel laughed again at her brother's silly passionate look, but she still agreed, because in fact there was no couple more in love and more perfect for each other than Michael and Alex.

"So, what's the menu going to be?"

The small box in his trouser pocket seemed to weigh a ton, making Michael's nervousness increase by the second.

Well, it turns out that cooking seems a lot easier in the videos he had seen on the internet than in practice. Not that Michael was not a good cook, he was, but he understood a lot more about cooking typical daily foods, yet he couldn't deny that he did an excellent job.

A few hours later and he had a perfect gorgonzola risotto, a rare grilled steak with a sauce of herbs and vegetables sautéed in butter. The table was already prepared with candles and a flower arrangement, beautiful, but small so that it wouldn't disturb them to look each other in the eye.

With a shower already taken and perfumed Michael looked in the mirror, that was not the kind of clothes he used to wear, dark gray trousers and a light blue shirt, but it was worth it, especially when he knew how turned on gets seeing him like that.

Perfect.

Tonight had to be perfect.

When Alex parked in front of the cabin all he could think about was how much he missed Michael, after four days away, all he wanted to hug his boyfriend and get into the hot tub for hours.

Upon opening the door, however, Alex felt his heart skip a beat.

"Do you know what today is?”

The room was lit only by two lamps that barely gave any light, leaving the rest of the lighting responsible for some candles. And flowers, white roses because Michael knew it was Alex's favorite, scattered as buds and petals everywhere. And right there, in the middle of the room, the most beautiful of all men.

Michael looked at him with a smile on his lips and his eyes were already watering.

"Michael ...?" Alex asked confused but thrilled as he dropped his backpack at the entrance to the cabin and took a step closer to Michael.

"It's Valentine's Day Alex, our first Valentine's Day together. And I've spent a lifetime wishing for this day, but never really believing that it could truly happen. Thirteen years ago you gave me a place to spend the cold nights, a guitar, and one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen in my life. " Michael started talking, staring at Alex, who was still a little confused, walking towards his boyfriend until he stopped in front of him. "You showed me that there was good in people and that there was a place for me here, on Roswell. On this planet. You gave me hope, Alex, hope that I could be happy, hope that there was more to people than just cruelty and second intentions. You taught me what it is to love and be loved in such a pure and intense way that it stayed with me, saved in my heart for more than a decade. Nurturing and comforting me every time I felt alone and lost. "

The cowboy smiled and touched Alex's face, who was looking at him so beautifully, his eyes already wet and shedding silent tears, both of them barely moving in fear of breaking that moment so sublime. Michael, speaking in a whisper as if he was afraid to wake up from that dream he felt he was living.

"There hasn't been a single day in my life that I haven't missed you, that I haven't thought of you, and most of all, that I haven't loved you. I'm yours, Alex, totally and completely yours, body, soul, and heart. I am yours to do anything you want. I always have been and will continue to be until my last breath, and beyond that too. I waited more than a decade to finally have you in my arms, and here we are living a life that I never even dared to dream of being possible. But we're here, celebrating our first Valentine's Day together. But I want more. "

With a beautiful smile, Michael took the box out of his pocket and saw how Alex immediately choked and sobbed as Michael went down on one knee showing him a beautiful and delicate silver band.

"I want to celebrate every Valentine's day with you, I want to start a family and see kids running around in our backyard, I want to adopt more dogs, I want to grow old by your side Alex. So please, could you make me the happiest man in the world and accept being my husband?"

Feeling completely overwhelmed with all the emotions he felt at that moment, Alex felt unable to even breathe for a few seconds while looking at Michael.

The beautiful and irresistible, Michael.

The eternal love of his life, Michael.

Kneeling at his feet asking Alex to be his forever.

"There is nothing in this world that I want more than to be your husband."

It was Buffy's bark that woke him, the small, plump beagle was lying on the sofa and Alex laughed when he saw her adorned with a red bow with the words "be my valentine" in white. Looking back at the man kneeling in front of him, Alex smiled so delighted and in love that Michael didn't even dare to blink for fear of losing that vision.

Alex never thought it possible to love that man more than he already did, but here was Michael proving him wrong.

Alex answered in a hoarse and choked voice and then threw himself into Michael's arms causing them to fall on the carpet in the middle of the room, between tears and laughter they kissed in love while Buffy barked and mumbled as if she were also celebrating the news.

"I love you, Michael." Alex murmured against Michael's already red and swollen lips after exchanging long, passionate kisses.

"I love you, too, Alex."

When the next day dawned, Michael grunted when he felt the light coming through the window waking him up. But the sigh coming from the man between his arms made him open his eyes and smile.

Last night had been perfect, much more than he had imagined.

Alex had accepted his proposal, they had eaten dinner while talking and listening to the soft melody that Michael had selected to play, and then they had spent a long time immersed in the hot tub where Michael sank into Alex's body, loving every bit of skin that he could touch. Only later, they went to bed and it was the cowboy's turn to ride Alex passionately, taking all the beautiful moans out of that mouth that he loved to kiss.

Now, holding the most important person in his life in his arms, Michael sighed contentedly as he brought his body closer to Alex, wrapping him tighter in his arms, and then smiled seeing the ring adorning that beautiful man's finger.

Alex, his fiance.

Alex, his future husband.

Yes, Michael smiled feeling his heart overflowing with love and happiness.

He smiled feeling the warmth of a new sunrise touching his skin and bringing all the promise of a long and happy life with Alex

Life couldn't be more perfect.

[babyflossy]

i miss you | p.js

pairing: jisung x reader

summary: the months you spend apart on a study abroad program in paris are almost worth it just to be in each other’s arms again.

genre: fluff

warnings: unedited, cringy french that my french tutor would laugh at me for

word count: 1.6k

when you had told jisung you were applying to a study abroad program, he had plastered on a smile and told you he thought it was a great idea. you had always tried your hardest to be his biggest supporter when he had a comeback, or when he went on tour, the least he could do was repay you in this way. what he didn't tell you, was how scared he was for you to be so far away from him for so long.

sure, your relationship had survived the early mornings and the late nights of his seemingly never-ending work days, it had held strong through the weeks you couldn’t see each other face to face. seeing you had been his biggest motivation on so many occasions, whenever he was anxious to try something new, a new concept or a new show, you were right there beside him; physically or on the other end of the phone line.

so why was it so hard for him to accept this? the one thing you needed in return for all the things you did for him, and he was having such a hard time finding the power to get excited with you.

paris. that’s were your school placed you when you successfully passed the interviews. paris, a twelve hour flight and a seven hour time difference. but when he saw how your eyes lit up whenever you spoke about it, he couldn’t bring himself to voice his worries. he would brave it with a smile, just like you always did.

you were due to spend a semester there, a whole three months on the other side of the world to him. jisung wasn’t sure why he found it so difficult to process, being away from you for so long. what if you found a french boy that you liked more than him? or what if you loved it so much you decided to move there? he didn’t know what he would do if you left seoul for europe.

the departure date you had typed into his phone calendar approached faster than any day ever had, and it was with teary eyes he sent you off the airport alone, unable to risk being spotted in public. you had spent weeks promising to call every day, that it wouldn’t be that different to when he was on tour.

but it would be, he knew that. even on tour, you had always found time to surprise him at different venues with the help of the other dreamies, and when he was kept from you due to his schedule, there was the knowledge that if something bad happened, he was never that far away.

paris wasn’t just a quick drive, though, and the reality set in after he received the last text from you in the same country, telling him you had put your phone onto airplane mode but you would call him when you landed.

the promise was kept, of course, yours always were, and he listened to you ramble tiredly about the flight whilst you spoke hesitant french to the airport staff, trying to find your way to baggage claim. at that moment, the only positive he could think of was how nice your voice sounded speaking french, and how much he wanted you to teach him.

over the next months, you made a point to call jisung at every opportunity you had; in the early hours of the paris mornings before you had fallen asleep and jisung was already waking up for his days, right before he fell asleep as you were cooking dinner. you would facetime and go about your tasks together, finding comfort in the company.

every now and then you would have nights where the longing you felt for your little seoul apartment was overwhelming. where you would wish for nothing but being in your boyfriend’s arms, breathing in the smell of his bodywash and wearing his hoodies. but, alas, you were on the opposite side of the globe with nothing but one of his hoodies and the picture of him as your lockscreen. and your homescreen. and your laptop background.

when the halfway mark passed, jisung felt a little better knowing you coming home was an event on the distant horizon. the last thought he would have before he fell asleep was you next to him again, the smell of your shampoo and your perfume and the tinkling of your jewellery lulling him into a peaceful slumber. the memories of the nights he spent cuddled up to you in your apartment, or falling asleep on the couch in the dorm's living room were almost painful for him when he knew it would be at least another month until he could make new ones with you.

sometimes when he fished one of his shirts out of the bottom of his wardrobe, he would get a drift of your washing detergent, or the candles you burned before you fell asleep. in those moments, he would reach for his phone, texting you a sad message of how much he missed you and wait for the ringing when you face timed him, a melancholy smile on your features in the soft light.

one night after a particularly hard practice session where he had been scolded by the dance teacher, he collapsed on his bed, mentally and physically exhausted. just when he was thinking of heading to bed, the familiar ringtone he had set for exclusively you cut through the gloomy air of his bedroom, a spark of hope shooting through him.

"jisung! how was practice?" your voice crackles over the line and he frowns at the screen, watching you shield your eyes as you stared down at your phone.

"i got shouted at," he mumbles quickly, still trying to figure out where you are. over the time you spent in paris, jisung had gotten to know your surroundings, the different backgrounds in your rented flat, the cafe you frequented, the convenience store at the bottom of your street. but he couldn't make out where you were. "where are you?"

"look!" you beam at him, turning the camera around to show the view in front of you. before you stands the eiffel tower, sheets of rain distorting the picture to your boyfriend. "i know it's raining, but i wanted you to see it! i haven't had time to do proper sight-seeing yet."

"y/n, it's not just raining, it's storming!" jisung exclaims in surprise, watching the monument glitter under the dark clouds, "you're going to catch a cold!"

"i'll be fine, jisung! i promise!" and your promises were never wrong. “but look at it! isn’t it beautiful!”

“it is, i wish i could see it in person with you!” the words come out quieter than he expected and he’s unsure if you’ll be able to hear him over the pouring rain. 

“then i’ll have to bring you here one day,” the camera turns to face you again, hair drenched, mascara collecting under your eyes. in that moment, he thinks he’s never seen such a dazzling sight.

the last stretch of your time in paris is painful for jisung, but the days slip through your fingers as you prepare to fly back to seoul. you spend the last week packing your things and saying goodbye to all the friends you had made, promising to stay in touch so you could practice your french more.

the night before your flight home, jisung calls you one last time, but when you hang up there is no heaviness in his heart, just the burning anticipation of you coming home again.

“y/n!” the voice that shouts it is so painfully familiar, but it sounds so different in person than over the phone. you freeze, eyes scanning the crowd in front of you to meet the pair you’re looking for. when they do meet, you think you can feel tears fill your eyes.

in an instant, a body collides with yours. the fabric of a hoodie is pressed into your face, a bodywash you would recognise anywhere floating up your nose, the arms you had missed so much wrapping themselves around you. for a prolongued minute you stay like that, jisung’s cheek pressed into the top of your head nestled under his chin.

the mask covering his face prevents you from kissing in front of the crowd but he holds you at arm’s length to examine your face. when he’s satisfied you still look like the same old y/n, he buries himself into you again.

“i missed you so much,” your words are muffled by his clothes and only then do you feel the wrapping crinkling behind your back.

“you have no idea how much i missed you,” he mumbles when he pulls away, pulling the brightest purple flowers from behind your back. the look of surprise on your face makes him laugh gleefully, still not believing you’re finally back in front of him. “they’re iris flowers, apparently they’re french. something to remind you of it, i guess.” there’s a blush on his cheeks as he sputters out his explanation, free hand coming to rub the back of his neck nervously.

the tears in your eyes spill over as you launch yourself back onto him, the both of you stumbling back slightly before jisung can catch his footing. “i love you so much.” you press your lips to the expanse of his exposed jawline, hands gripping his shoulder tightly.

“i love you so much as well, but you gotta teach me how to say that in french.”

“mon coeur est à toi pour toujours, jisung.”

[buckysforeverprincess]

Can Our Love Survive? Ch. 19

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2086

Warning: Drug use-marijuana, talk of sex

A/N: I am so sorry about not sticking with my schedule. So, I’m not gonna say much, just let you read. Enjoy!

***TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED***

The holidays came and went, and before you knew it, spring had almost sprung. Things had settled down and everyone found a routine that worked out, all of you doing your part to get things done. It wasn't all sunshine and roses, but the frustration was minimal and usually came from you and your twin and those things always worked themselves out.

Shortly after Bucky had moved in, he told your mom he wanted to get a job to help with the money situation. He knew having the extra person in the house would be a financial burden on her and he wanted to do his part. Sarah Rogers, the bad ass she was, was having none of that. “Your education is more important than a few extra dollars. I'll worry about the money, you worry about getting good grades,” she told him over dinner one evening. There was no winning against Sarah and the conversation was quickly dropped, never to be brought up again.

What none of you knew was Sarah Rogers was already receiving a check each month, courtesy of one George Barnes. When George returned from his getaway, Sarah went to the Barnes home and had a not so nice conversation with the deadbeat douche. Since George had abandoned and neglected his sixteen-year-old son, it was in his best interests to cooperate and pay monthly for his son’s expenses while staying in the Rogers home. George did not want Child Protective Services involved or anyone for that matter and he wasn’t about to have his image tarnished or his name slung through the mud, so letting the money go was the best way to not have to deal with his son and that’s something he could live with.

George also had no problem signing over guardianship of James to Sarah, having no desire to parent Bucky. Sarah was willing to step up and be legally responsible for the boy and felt he’d been neglected enough by the people that called themselves his parents. It was time an adult took an interest in him, nourishing and encouraging him along the way, making him aspire to achieve greatness and know his worth. Sarah Rogers would always go the extra mile for her kids, and she’d already accepted Bucky as one of her own.

March had just begun, and with that came Bucky's birthday. You were happy to spend his seventeenth birthday with him, but there was more to it than that. His birthday marked your five-month anniversary. It wasn't a six-month milestone people normally celebrated, but you wanted to make it special and memorable for the both of you.

It’d been five months and sex still hadn’t happened between you. Bucky was amazing at not pushing and letting you take the lead but it didn't mean all things were off the table. You've seen this dick, touching it and stroking him to orgasm, hand jobs becoming a normal occurrence in your bedroom. And in return, Bucky brought you to climax courtesy of his tongue and boy did he know how to use it! Your vagina had the pleasure of getting really acquainted with the masterpiece that was his mouth and he completely ruined you for anyone else in the future.

Even though you'd shared those intimacies, you still couldn't bring yourself to have penetrative sex. You'd tried several times, but it just wasn't happening. Bucky said it was okay, and was never upset, but you felt like a failure. How could you touch his cock and let him eat you out, but the moment his cock comes anywhere near your vagina, you freak! You needed help getting through this and needed someone to talk it out with.

 Pulling out your phone, you went to your messages and brought up the conversation with your best friend, typing out a message and hitting send.

Y/N: Nat, I want to have sex with Bucky.

Nat: Well hello to you too, sunshine.

Y/N: Yeah, hi. Back to my original problem…..

Nat: Is that a question?

Y/N: Nat!!! Help me!!

Nat: You put the weed in the coconut and light that shit up.

Y/N: OMFG!! Fuck off… wait, you have weed?

Nat: *sigh* Well, unless you want to body swap, I'm pretty sure you're on your own.

Y/N: Ugh! Why are you so difficult?!

Nat: Because, I am the love of your life, (not Bucky. I've been with you longer), and the only one that puts up with the needy bitch you are.

Y/N: Then help me!!!!

Nat: You're so whiny. Take a fucking xanax already!

Y/M: I did, not helping!

Nat: Then eat a dick and shut your bitchy mouth.

Y/N: I can't… Bucky's not home!! And it's not my mouth that's talking, it's my fingers.

Nat: Then put them in your vag and leave me alone.

Y/N: Fine, you're not my BFF anymore. Guess I'll be giving myself to Bucky forever. You can no longer have my body when I die.

Nat: Shut up snatch, I'm on my way.

Y/N: Bring weed?

Nat shows up twenty minutes later, kisses you on the cheek and hands you a baggy. “DO NOT let your mom know! Momma Rogers will murder me!”

 “I'll just blame it on Clint. He came over the other day smelling like skunk. Mom rushed them to the hospital and had ‘em drug tested. Steve's grounded by the way, if he didn't tell you already. He also lost his car for a month and mom is making him volunteer at the hospital.”

 Nat shakes her head and the two of you head to your bedroom, locking the door behind you,

lighting some candles and opening the window. Nat takes a joint out of the bag and lights it up, inhaling deep and handing it over. You repeat the process and the two of you continue passing it back and forth, not saying a word until you feel the drug take over.

“So, you wanna have sex with Bucky.”

 Nodding, you take another puff. “Fuck yeah, I do.” You pass the joint back to her.

 “What's stopping you?”

 “Brock.” The name just rolled off your tongue without hesitation, mostly due to being blazed.

“I'm gonna say some shit cause we're high as fuck and it’s the only way I can say it...” she stops and glares at you waiting for approval to continue and you nod, giving her the go ahead. “Stop letting that fucker control you!! Not every dick is Brock's and Bucky seems like he has a nice size cock-”

 “It is very nice…,” you interrupt, “Oh! And big too!”

 Nat looks at you annoyed. “Don't interrupt me. Will you just fuck your man already! Once you do, I promise, you'll never want to stop.”

You sit in silence and try to process her directness. “Ok, but how?”  

 Nat rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I assume you know the logistics of fucking.” She takes another hit of the joint.

 You sigh. “I can't just be like ‘hey Bucky, stick your dick in my vagina and fuck me!’”

 “The fuck you can’t!” Nat raises her voice but then passes you the diminishing joint. “Just sit on his lap and ride him like the brahma bull he is.”

Taking another puff, you furrow your eyebrows, confusion evident on your face. “Wait… what's a brahma bull?”

 Nat rolls her eyes hard. “You know, The Rock?!”

 You shrug. “Don’t know him. Should I?”

 “Oh, my fucking god, I can’t with you!” She bursts out laughing, doubling over from the intensity.

You sit on your bed, your high at its peak, and you stare at your best friend. There's something you need to ask and now seems like the best time not knowing if you’ll ever muster up the courage to ever say these words again. “Nat… why didn't you stop me?”

 Your best friend stops and sits up, her face going slack. “Would you have listened?”

 Nodding, you lower your head. That wasn’t the only question you had but for the next one you couldn’t look her in the eye. “How long, Nat?”

 “I don't follow?”

 You look up at her, your eyes meeting hers. “Don't play dumb… how long?”

 Nat shakes her head. “Does it matter now?”

 You reach out and place a hand on top of hers. “It matters to me.”

“It changes nothing, right?!” She lifts her head and sighs. “Since middle school. I've been in love with you since middle school. Happy now? How’d you even know?!”

“I’ve always kinda knew, just had a feeling. And you should've said something. Things would’ve been a lot different and that ass bag would never have happened.”

 Nat smiles. “You wouldn't be with Bucky, because I’d never let you go.” She leans in and kisses your cheek, making you blush. “You deserve Bucky. He's your forever and I'm just your very best friend.”

 Grabbing her face softly, you look her in the eyes. “You're more than my best friend and no one could ever replace you in my life. Without you, I'd be lost. Bucky may be my forever, but you have my soul.”

Nat grabs you and pulls you into a fierce hug. “I love you, принцесса.”

 “I love you, too.” It comes out muffled.

There’s a knock at the door, making you jump out of Nat’s tight embrace. “Baby, you in there?!” Bucky’s voice comes from the other side.

 “Fuck, Nat! Hide the shit!” Nat grabs the baggie and puts it in her jacket.

 “Honey? You ok?” He knocks again and you hear him jiggle the doorknob.

 “Just a second, I'm coming!” You yell at the door. “Spray my perfume!” You point to the bottle on your dresser and watch as she grabs it and begins spraying around the room.

You move to the door and open it to see your boyfriend standing there, a look of concern on his face. “Hi!” You say, the grin on your face not hiding anything.

 Bucky eyes you and then Nat and inhales deeply. “Are you high?”

 “Who me? I don't know what you're talking about?” You try to hold back a laugh, but it doesn't work. “It's her fault!” You point at Nat but turn back to see Bucky's mad face.

 Nat shrugs. “Hey, I just supplied it, didn't tell you to smoke it.”

Bucky huffs and shakes his head. “You know if your mom finds out she'll give you a worse punishment than Steve, right?”

 You wrap your arms around his neck and put your face close to his. “So, don't tell and I'll make it worth your while.” You lean in and kiss him softly.

 Bucky rolls his eyes. “Better clean up and get the smell out. I'm not sleeping in here if it still stinks. I refuse to endure the wrath of Sarah Rogers.” He gives you a chaste kiss. “I'll go start dinner. Nat.” He tips his head and walks out, leaving you with your best friend.

“He sleeps in here now?” Nat asks and grabs her coat, putting it on.

 “Yep. Told mom we weren't having sex because I wasn't ready. He told her it wasn't a deal breaker and he could wait. Guess it was enough.”

 She chuckles. “And now you want to have sex. How fitting, just don't get caught.”

 You smirk. “Do I ever?”

Nat rolls her eyes and stands up from the bed. “I'm gonna go. Give me a hug bitch!” Nat holds out her arms and you step into her embrace.

 “Thanks for coming through and for the talk, but Bucky effectively killed my buzz.”

 Nat laughs just a little, amused by your comment. “I'll see myself out, you rest. Sleep that shit off.” She starts to walk out of your room but stops in the doorway and turns back around. “You know you really didn’t need me to talk you through this. You’re ready for the next step. Stop doubting yourself. He’s not him, never will be. Get your man and make me proud.” She winks and then disappears through the door.

 Throwing yourself on the bed you know she’s right. Bucky will never be Brock so there’s nothing to worry about. This time around it’ll mean something to both of you and things could never be as fucked up as it was when you both lost your virginity to other people. You’re ready and it’s time to give yourself completely to each other, and you know the perfect time and place to make that happen.

 * принцесса-Princess

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[thesculptedflower]

Blue Velvet / Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She woke up alone. The night was still fresh in her memory and the sheets smelled of him. But she woke up alone. His scent still lingered in the room quite strongly, so he must have left only few moments ago. Y/N got up from the bed and threw a morning gown around her body. Even if her spirits were a bit down, her body felt amazing. The previous night had been perfect, in every way, and she only wished it would have lasted longer. She was making her way out of the bedroom when she noticed a pair of green gloves and a note, with a green question mark, on top of the dresser. 

The card was folded in the middle, and inside was small map. The map had a region of Gotham, and a small question mark drawn in the middle. On the other side of the card read something. ’’I trust you’ll return me these ;) - Ed.’’ She read. A wave of relief washed over her and for a moment, she felt a little bad for thinking that Ed could have just left without a word. But now she had his address, or at least a direction where to look. And with that newfound energy, she got dressed up, did her hair and makeup and called herself a car. She left the club to go back home, to get properly ready, before beginning this game of cat and mouse.

Oswald wasn’t home when she got to the mansion. She was told that he had an important meeting with a partner and they’d be back for dinner. Both of them. Usually, whenever Oswald had guests regarding his work over, Y/N would stay away. Oswald didn’t want her to hear anything, so no one could use her against him. And she agreed. This dinner wouldn’t be any different. 

Y/N was in her room, practicing her singing and violin. She knew that Oswald and his guest would hear her, the dining room was nearly straight bellow her room. Her voice was so powerful it floated easily through the old walls and floors of the mansion. Oswald had told her, that the soft singing had a positive effect on his guests, they were more relaxed and easily manipulated into decisions that were most beneficial for Oswald, of course. So she kept doing it. 

’’Swinging in the backyard, pull up in your fast car, whistling my name. Open up a beer and you say, ’’get over here’’ and a play a video game. I’m in his favorite sundress, watching me get undressed, take that body downtown. I say ’’you da bestest’’, lean in for a big kiss, put his favorite perfume on. ’’Go play your video game’’.’’

Singing about love always came with a hint of sorrow. She grew up watching her parents love and care for each other so deeply, caring for her, and teaching her how to love. And then suddenly seeing how the illness tore apart everything they had worked for. No more dancing on the grass, no more listening to the violin. Some days they were strong enough to fight for one another, to hold each other close, but most of the time they were too tired, too much in pain. They were falling together, towards their end. And the end came so fast. 

Now that Y/N was older, she was desperately looking for that kind of love her parents taught her. Her last memories of them were tainted with the illness, but that didn’t stop her from believing in the love they had shown her. And that made falling in love dangerously easy.

’’It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you. Everything I do. I tell you all the time, heaven is a place on Earth with you. Tell me all the things you wanna do. I heard that you like the bad girls, honey, is that true? It’s better than I ever even knew. They say that the world was built for two, only worth living if somebody us loving you. And baby, now you do.’’ 

She wanted to love, to feel loved, to give everything she had and to receive the same. And now that she had met Ed, she finally felt like there was hope for her. Hope for her to find a love similar to what her parents shared. Y/N knew they had only shared a few moments together with Ed, but their eyes held so much emotion towards each other, she was filling to give it all of her, to make it work. No matter what he did, no matter how other people and the police saw him. She was falling for this man, hopelessly, and she wanted to completely surrender to the feeling. 

’’Singing in the old bars, swinging with the old stars, living for the fame. Kissing the blue dark, playing pool and wild darts, video games. He holds me in his big arms, drunk and I am seeing stars, this is all I think of. Watching all our friends fall in and out of Old Paul’s, this is my idea of fun. Playing video games.’’

’’It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you. Everything I do. I tell you all the time, heaven is a place on Earth with you. Tell me all the things you wanna do. I heard that you like the bad girls, honey, is that true? It’s better than I ever even knew. They say that the world was built for two, only worth living if somebody is loving you. And baby, now you do.’’

———————————————————————————————————

Usually Oswald or one of his men would tell Y/N when the house was empty of guests, but it had already been hours, and no one had come to get her. She was starting to get agitated and more importantly, hungry. So she decided, against her better judgement, to get downstairs. The hallways were empty, almost too quiet for her liking. Only a few small candles on the walls were illuminating the dark path. She was just about to take a turn to another hallway, when she was suddenly pushed against the wall. Y/N was about to scream for help, but her mouth was quickly covered with a hand. Panic was quickly taking over, she kept trying to fight the grip on her, but when she recognized the brown eyes and the smile of her ’’attacker’’, her fear was replaced with relief. Ed placed a finger to her lips, motioning her to be silent. Y/N nodded quickly, turning her head around to see if they were alone. Ed pulled her softly by her chin to get her to face him. His lips were once again against hers, and she felt like she was dreaming. Being pressed between the wall and his body, kissing him felt like ecstasy, it was giving her a high so easily. But at the moment, it was also giving her a new kind of fear. ’’We’re going to get caught, and I really don’t want to know how Oswald would react to this.’’ Y/N said between kisses.Ed pulled away just a little, so their foreheads were still touching.

’’Oswald told me to stay away from you, on that first night I saw you perform.’’ Ed said quietly, looking deep into her eyes. ’’I tried, for weeks. I told myself that seeing you up there would be enough, but oh was I wrong.’’ He continued. His eyes told a story of a man who had fallen in love with the one thing he could not have. But Ed wasn’t the type to give up so easily. Y/N could only listen, holding her hand against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat quicken. ’’And tonight, hearing you sing, while I was downstairs with Oswald, I couldn’t help but think the song was for me. I wanted it to be for me.’’ He placed his lips on hers again, pulling her closer from her neck a little rougher this time. With his other hand, he slipped another card in her pocket. ’’I hope you find me soon. Very soon.’’ He had that maniacal smile on his lips, and she knew she had fallen too deep. Edward was already taking steps away from her when she grabbed his hand and pulled him in for another kiss. When she pulled apart, she too, had the same smile on her face. 

 ’’You can’t hide from me.’’

[echantedtoon]

Waning Obsession(Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch3 A Job To Be Done

(Warnings: Y/n's boss treats her horribly.

For context the sun looks like the picture above. Pic not mine. Found on Pinterest.

EDIT: Fixed previous spelling errors.)

You didn't remember when you collapsed.

It must've been sometime during the middle of the night because you woke up the next morning collapsed on the floor just behind the table of perfumes. You woke dizzy and confused. Why weren't you in your bed? Where was your house? You had sat up confused. It was still raining outside although not quite as bad as last night. You remember that part at least. It was only when you moved. It was only until something red fell from your lap. When a red candle rolled across the floor. That you remembered.

A demon had visited you last night

Disregarding everything else, your body managed to get to the front door of the shop and opened it up to poke your head out and look up and down the streets. Rain pelted everything in sight as grey clouds filled the sky and thunder continued to clash overhead every few minutes. The winds continued to blow the trees but not as bad as last night. The streets remained empty as they had did yesterday. No human in sight. With no one around, you closed the door and backed up into the safety of the store. After a moment of standing there, your head turned and stared at the candle. A moment later feet approached and a hand picked the rather large red candle off the floor holding it up to turquoise eyes. The smell of cinnamon rolled over your senses before a sigh escaped your lips.

"So it wasn't just a nightmare."

A man had been here. A man that you had met before in the woods, and who now wanted you to do a custom candle carving for him. His voice from last night echoing in your mind the longer you stared at the cinnamon red candle.

"I want you to carve a sun into this. Make the sun look as if it was made of dancing flames."

For whatever his reasons were, he wanted you to do a custom job for him on the candle. It was such a surreal experience. .. Turquoise eyes glanced at the table. A few bottles of perfume was still knocked over. On instinct a hand reached out to start neatly pushing the bottles right side up, however it paused when eyes caught sight of a green soap bar. The green soap smelled of mint and was partially carved into a blooming rose. It was a bit strange to carve a green mint soap into a rose shape when it didn't even smell like the flower but it was unique and that's what you liked about it. You liked it's scent and spending so much free time carving as much detail you could into it as a hobby. You thought it looked beautiful but then again so did someone else.

"Then I want this also, looking as if it was in full bloom."

The man had taken interest in it also and ordered you finished it along with the candle. Within two weeks no less. All that hard work you put into it down the drain. But we're you going to argue with a six foot man that looked like he could rip you in half with a single hand?

No. No you were not.

You could always restart on making you another one. No little piece of soap was worth your life. The surreal day was very quiet aside from the rain, lightning, thunder, and wind. Leaving you alone in the home. Not knowing what else to do, you walked around your boss's home and tided up her living space and doing some chores around her home. It'd be something to help you get your mind off things. In reality you were stalling on returning to your home. It's not that you didn't want to go home to your own house, but you were afraid. Afraid to go outside in the storm by yourself and running into that man. Or worse. Running into another samurai that wasn't so...nice?? You wouldn't say the one you met was friendly but rather him than an unfriendly one.

Eventually after some time you say down at the table and picked up the red candle again looking it over before fetching a small metal stick about as thick and big as a single chopstick, and setting to work starting on the wax. A sun made of dancing flames...You had an idea of what it should look like but it would take at least three maybe four days to carve out such a detailed design on a big candle since you usually didn't do such big designs and so detailed. But you supposed now would be as good as any time to get started you guessed. No one else showed up that day, neither did your boss although you kept glancing out the window for any signs of life. None made themselves known. At the end of the day, you managed to find some food in your boss's food you borrowed and slept on a few spare pillows and blankets you found for the night not wanting to walk home right now. Well..she also said you could stay so you didn't have to walk home in this weather. You awoke the next morning to the sounds of a door opening and the sounds of footsteps shuffling around. It jolted you awake out of fear of the approaching figure, but instantly calmed down as the surprised face of your boss shuffled into her home.

She looked surprised seeing you laying there on the ground but soon scowled at you lying there. "Just what are you doing here?"

You should've known it was here from the shuffling and tiny fast footsteps but you guessed in your sleepy stare hadn't registered it. But you were relieved seeing that it was her. "I-I was tired and fell asleep."

She scowled harder at you. "You slept here? I said you could stay for one night not two!"

"I'm sorry," you apologized to her.

"You used my blankets, and you ate my food!" Her hands rested on her hips in annoyance. "You completely went against what I said!"

"I said that I was sorry-"

A hand was held up to your face. "No excuses! You took advantage of my kindness and I won't have you trying to defend such vile actions!"

"But I cleaned for you-"

"Talking back to me? You don't know when to stop do you?! For that you'll work the rest of this week without pay!," she proudly and angrily stated puffing her chest at your stunned look. "Perhaps that'll teach you not to talk back to your elders! Now get off my floor-" She roughly pointed a hand out the door. "-and go clean those sheets! I won't sleep in them after you used them!"

"But-"

"Talking back again? You can do my entire futon then and make yourself useful!"

You just shut your mouth and decided not to argue with her anymore in order to avoid anymore scolding and possibly more chores thrusted upon her. Under her angry gave, she followed you gathering sheets and laundry before essentially kicking you out arms full of clothes. You stared back at her angry look as she gripped the door.

"And don't return until your finished with it!"

SLAM!!

You flinched when the door slammed shut in your face and you were left standing in the middle of the street. The mud and puddles from the previous two day's showers squished under your feet as you just stepped back..and looked around. The streets were barren still and muddy and wet because of the rain. Water droplets dropped from the roofs and branches of the trees making a faint sound of rain even though it currently wasn't raining. The skies above were littered still with grey storm clouds but they were spaced apart from one another. Hopefully that met the storm was leaving soon. The wind gently blew across the empty streets giving it an eerie feeling. You felt a shiver run down your spine before you turned and started quickly walking down the road towards your home. You'd do the laundry there and change before coming back. Hopefully by then your boss would've calmed down.

The safety and warmth of your own home greeted you with glee and you were happy to be back. Happy to run a quick bath. Happy to do laundry. Happy to clean up around a little bit before just stopping to just take a breather and eat while waiting for the laundry to dry. Some time to yourself for a change before gathering up the sheets and folding them neatly. Gathering them in your arms before leaving your home again back down the quiet streets and back towards your boss's house. Turning one corner- And ramming into what was practically a wall of purple and black. Startled you jumped back and blinked nearly slipping on the muddy ground and looking up before completely freezing-

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Your eyes stared widely at the looming figure of the man you saw two night ago. His eyes glaring down at you under the hat sat upon his head. "It's still rude to stare."

Immediately you froze. A cold feeling running through your veins before immediately your body bowed. "I-Im so sorry, Sir! I didn't m-mean to run into you! That w-w-was my mistake."

He didn't move but did tilt his head at the sheets and blankets you carried before humming. "Yes. I forgotten women must take care of their households. I suppose your husband has you running laundry."

You blinked. "Huh?" You glanced up to him in confusion before leaning back up and shaking your head. "N-No. These are for my boss."

The eyes shifted back up to you making you flinch. "I was under the impression that you were employed at the business I visited two nights ago."

"I am. But my boss ordered me to clean these for her."

The eyes continued to stare at you but became half lidded. "I wasn't under the impression that you were also her personal aid."

"I'm not, but I might as well be with everyone else she's had me do for her. But I have a job and I can't complain about it.'' Your eyes wondered from his face to his haori coat which was soaked and clinging slightly to his body. "You're soaked."

"I know."

"Have you been out in this weather since I met you?"

"Since before I met you," he corrected calmly but bluntly, "I made to stay in your village's inn but it seems no one wanted to answer my knocking."

You glanced over his soaked body for a long moment before looking back up to the sky. The grey clouds were still trudging along slowly. He's been outside in the weather for who knows how long. With everyone still terrified and in hiding, it's unlikely that he'll be able to get proper shelter especially if anyone else knew he wasn't human. You felt a pang of pity for him but.. Turquoise eyes glanced back to the sword on his side. You weren't going to chance anything. Who knows who this man was and what he did for a living? You'd have no part of it...But-

"If it's shelter you want," you spoke slowly making your eyes look back to him, "-there's an old abandoned cabin just outside town where the exit leads further into the mountains." You gestured to the far side of town and the complete opposite of where your home was. "No one's lived in it since the owner died a few years ago. Nowadays it's just used by a few men when they go hunting in the woods."

He did not say anything but just stared at you in silence. You stared back feeling more nervous, the more he bore into your eyes. The mud under your feet squishing as you shuffled uncomfortably.

"...I see," he settled on saying making her jolt slightly. "You should be working. I will not pay if I don't believe that Im not getting my money's worth."

You blinked and bowed- Or .. That's what he was expecting her to do but instead she frowned upon him, her brows furrowing.

"For your information, Sir, I am working on what you wanted," you calmly stated, "My work entails more than just carving so you'll have to understand that I just can't drop my other duties to tend to your order alone. I will get it done how you'll like, but that doesn't mean you will undermine my job."

......He blinked-

"Please give me patience. I understand you want it done within a certain timeframe and your agreement shall be met. Do not rush me for the detailed work you want will take time. I pride myself on not being sloppy." You politely stepped around him. "I'll try to be done by next week's end. Good day to you."

Your shoulder lightly brushed his by accident as you passed his form. He continued to stand there before a hand reached out to where her shoulder lightly brushed his own. Fingers gripped the fabric bunching up his haori sleeve. A head turned silently towards the retreating woman's figure. ...A simple hum escaping his throat.

Your boss was happy when you arrived back a few hours later with the clean sheets, however she then yelled and scolding you loudly over dragging mud onto her porch and onto her home. Demanding that you immediately clean it up then and there, on top of cleaning the floors and mud she HERSELF dragged in when she came back. You didn't argue. You deflated and grabbed a bucket and scrubbing brush from the back, not in the mood to fight and argue with her anymore today. She sat comfortably in the corner painstakingly looking over each and every sheet as you just swept the floors.

"..... There's a stain on the top one here!," she unfolded the top blanket and pointed out a smalL acorn sized stain in the corner of the blanket that would otherwise have been unnoticeable to anyone. "I told you to CLEAN them!"

"But that stain was there long before I cleaned them. It's sauce from one of your lunches you spilt remem-"

"Talking back to me again?! For that you can clean ALL my floors then and I expect you to move furniture! That should teach you for doing an inadequate job and talking back to your elders!"

You wanted to yell at her, but only frowned and returned to your sweeping and biting your tongue. You didn't feel like gaining a headache further from this stupid situation. You found yourself nearly getting spooked by her when she shuffled into the front of the store. Your knees bare from rolling up the hem of your dress and sleeves to better scrub the floors with. Dipping your brush into the water filled bucket next to you before pressing it back against the wooden floors and scrubbing it clean. She stayed to scrutinizingly glare over your shoulder as you did so, but you weren't expecting her to leave for a moment. You felt relieved for only a second before something red blurred in your face. You instinctively jumped back dropping the scrub brush with a thud.

"AHA! And what's this?!," she demanded holding up a red cinnamon scented candle at your face. The very same candle you had left on the small table by the perfumes. "What's the meaning of this? I didn't give you any permission to touch any of the candles! It's a candle to be sold, not a canvas for your hobbies!"

You just stared tiredly letting her finish her yelling before giving an inhale. "I'm not using it for a hobby. Someone asked me to do a custom carving for them."

"Who?!," she demanded squinting her eyes unbelieving at you.

"A man. He came a day or two ago and asked me for a few carvings for him."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"He said he'll be back sometime within two weeks. If you don't believe me, you may wait until he arrives and I'll show you him."

"Don't tell me what I may or may not do in my own home!!," she spat at your tired face, "For that you can scrub the porch too!" She hissed before whipping her hand to the candle and the beginnings of a carving on it... before huffing and turning to drop it back onto the table. "But if you think it will amuse me, I certainly will wait and we'll see this 'man' you speak of. If he exists."

"If? But he does-"

"TALKING BACK AGAIN!! YOU CAN DUST THE SHELVES TOO!!"

You turned back around and just went back to scrubbing the rest of the home's floors. You would not be getting any work done today it looked like. Unbeknownst to the both of you someone saw. Someone who had gone to hunt while you swept and was just now making his way back to a certain cabin with a plump pheasant in his hands from a successful small hunt. Passing yell got his attention briefly on the yelling woman and the young lady scrubbing the floors but he only passed on by with nothing but a hum to the situation.

You in fact did not get anymore work done that day too busy with cleaning everything while the angry older woman continued to scrutinizing you until it got dark enough for you to go home, and by that, your boss made you make her dinner before kicking you out for the night. You went back home exhausted and frustrated at the situation but returned the next day with the intentions of finishing up your work. This time you paid no mind to her angry ramblings or her glares as you just sat back down and began carving into the surface of the red candle. One day turned to two. Two to three. Three to four-

"It's been half a week already. There's still no sign of any man," your boss chastised you while putting more incense bundles she dried up on the shelves one day while giving you a suspicious look as if you had deliberately lied to her.

"I said he was returning in two weeks time, not half of one week." Small shavings of red wax fell to your lap as you began adding the final finishing details into the candle. By the end of today at least one job will be done. You paused to blow the smaller shavings off the wax for a clear view of the patterns etched around the body of the red candle.

The older woman paused narrowing her eyes more. "Are you talking back to me?"

"Not at all. I'm only telling you what he told me," you said politely to avoid anymore arguments.

"Hmm. To me it sounds like you're talking back."

"No. Please not again." You stopped tracing the very last detail in to look over your shoulder at her tiredly. "I promise you I'm not."

"You're definitely talking back to me!" Her expression soured as she crossed her arms and scowled at you again. "So once you're done with that candle, go clean my bathroom before you start on anything else he supposedly asked for. Clearly you haven't learnt your lesson."

"But-"

"Anymore back talk and I won't pay you next week as well!"

You decided to bite your tongue again and just go clean the bathroom after finishing up the candle. It wouldn't have been the first time you cleaned it and you didn't want to lose another week's pay over an old woman's anger. However you supposed you should've went into more detail about what exactly he wanted because she practically flipped when she saw you continuing work on the green soap rose.

"What are you doing?!," she roared as soon as she saw you push the small carving knife into the green soap to continue carving the fake petals. "You're supposed to be working! Not wasting time with stupid toys you're making for yourself!'' she demanded angrily pointing out the objects in your hands.

You didn't even bother looking up this time and only focused on your work. "He wanted this too."

"WHAT?!"

"He saw this and decided that he wanted to purchase this from me too. I told him it'd take me a while and that's why he said he'd return within two weeks time."

She sneered almost instantly. "Now I know you lie! You're only saying that because you want to laze about like a lame cat and fiddle with your own stupid hobbies than put in real work and expecting to be paid still!"

"I never said that I expected to be paid if I lied-," you ever patiently said politely to avoid making her further angry, "-but I did not lie. I'm not doing these things just for myself but genuinely because I am working. And I have put in a lot of real work. I have done everything you have asked me to do."

"Well, since you want to insist on this little charade and lie about this, I'll indulge you only so I can catch you in your lies! But since I know you're lying, and you continue to talk back to me, you can just finish restocking all these shelves yourself while I go visit my grandson." You gave her a look and opened your mouth- "Don't you dare give me that dirty look! For that you can just wash the windows too!"

You decided not to argue as she dropped the last of the incense bundles on the floor and stomped away. You only tiredly glanced as the bundles thudded onto the floor before looking at the soap in your hands still needing to be carved and you sighed. You would not be getting it done as fast as you hoped. You only turned paused your carving and stood up to carefully pick up the incense bundles off the floor to neatly stack them back onto the shelf before turning to walk towards the kitchen in the back. You'd be needing some water to clean up all the windows. A bucket and cloth later, turquoise eyes glanced out of the window towards the outside. A moment later a damp rag was pressed to the glass and started wiping away any dirt and dust. You'll do the inside first before cleaning up the outsides of the windows. Thankfully there wasn't very many so you'd be done quick and be able to get back to work. Turquoise eyes watched the rag on the window.. before glancing up and pausing as they stared into the multiple eyes of a tall demon. The man was there again just on the edge of the porch looking directly at you. Both of you just stood there for a long moment unmoving-

"What are you doing?!" A loud voice made you jump whirling around to your annoyed boss. "I'm heading out now, that doesn't mean you can slack off."

"I-I wasn't! I was just-" You looked back out the window and paused again. He was gone- He was literally standing just right there feet away from you! How did he move so fast?! Your head leaned into the window to look around more. Where did he go?!

"Uh huh. Well if you're done with your daydreaming, get done! I want them spotless by the time I come back!"

You didn't make any complaints as she left. You did not see anymore demons that day.

The town had slowly gone back to normal over the last few days as you continued on your carving. People started coming out again cautiously at first and only the men to gather supplies for their families. But they soon fell back into routine which was enough reassurance for their women to go out too followed by their children like the scare a week before had never happened. You supposed it should've been comforting to you to see life back to normal but you knew there actually was a demon about. A very tall demon with a sword...

But he hadn't made a move to harm anyone.

The most he's done that was even remotely threatening so far you've seen was that night you first met, when you realized he had been gripping his sword in defense, but you had snuck up on him so you couldn't blame him for being on the defensive and he had stood down as soon as he saw you didn't mean him any harm. And he also hadn't shown any other aggressiveness from the few other times you saw one another. Sure he might've been a bit rude and blunt but that's hardly dangerous. So you decided to keep it to yourself. That...and you didn't know what your boss would do next if she had found out that the man you were doing business with wasn't a human man. One more day. One more step closer to finishing. You were almost done with it now cutting each little fake petal into the soap until it looked like a little green rose. You left your finished work next to the red candle with the bright swirling sun carved into its red wax. Your boss continued to scrutinize you as the end of the time frame approached. Often looking outside and commenting that she never saw anyone.

"No one came in for you today."

Or whenever there was a customer, she'd comment on how they weren't there for the carved items.

"That was Mr. Sako. He bought some bath salts for his wife, but I see he didn't even mention anything about your work."

Or just plain accusations.

"I'm starting to run out of patience for your game! Make yourself useful and get me some tea!"

You were starting to get worried. It was almost the end of the week and you hadn't seen this demon yet. You'd thought about going to the old cabin and seeing if he was there, but the thought of going to see a demon alone didn't sound like a good idea even if he hadn't done anything to anyone. You only hoped for him to show up soon.

With another day coming to a close you just went about minding your own business sweeping the floor when a huff made you pause in your movements and look over. The older woman could be seen at her little station in the back pulling a blue candle out of a small cauldron in the fire where bubbling wax was boiling. The process of candle making warmed up the home a lot, and as it was already a warm summer, the windows had been opened and the door left wind open to help regulate the heat.

"It's getting close to sundown," she commented holding up the candles above the cauldron by the wicks, watching as the wax dropped off then and back into the pot before she'd let them cool a bit and add another layer by dipping them back in. Repeating the process until they were the size she wanted them to be. "The day will be over soon. Don't you think you should head home?"

"I will after I finish sweeping like you told me," you politely said with a smile.

She only huffed before turning back to her work. "I'm surprised that you're insisting on getting back on my good side. After all, after this week is over and Im proven right, you won't be getting any pay for at least a month for lying to me for so long."

You frowned before just sweeping the floors again. This really wasn't your best time. The bristles swept the small pile of dirt closer and closer towards the open doorway as your focus was mainly on the floor pushing the dirt along until the broom bumped against something in the way. Turquoise eyes followed the thing on the floor before pausing in sudden realization as a foot stood there right next to another. Your head snapped up. A gasp escaped your throat and the broom dropped from your hands with a clatter. The noise had caught the attention of the older woman who turned with an annoyed look but also paused shocked seeing the looming tall figure in the doorway.

The demon had returned.

He stayed inhumanly silent as you both stared back at him before he decided to speak. "I'm here to see if you have finished." His voice was as monotone and blunt as ever as his head tilted at you. "I did tell you that I would be back."

Your boss froze seeing him letting the wax drip out onto the floor no doubt making a mess. You stood there blinking before slowly exhaling and giving him a smile. "O-Oh. Of course. I'm sorry. I didn't hear you walk in. You startled me."

"Apologies."

"No it's alright." You held up a hand making him blink. "I'm sure you didn't mean to do don't apologize." That...wasn't something he expected her to stay. You smiled wider before pointing at the inside of the home. "I finished every just today so you came at a great time. Come in and I'll show them to you."

You walked on over to the small table in the middle of the room and he slowly followed silently stepping over the broom on the floor. He watched as she smiled and lifted two objects in her hands before turning back to him with a smile and presenting them out to him. The smells of cinnamon, cloves, and mint filled his senses and he was almost taken back when he first saw them, six eyes widening.

"I hope you're pleased with them." The eyes looked back to turquoise ones. The unusual pretty color of them catching the lantern light above her making them sparkle like two clear pools of water making them go even more wide. "I tried to put as much detail as I could into the designs without making it too complicated. I hope that's alright."

He didn't speak for a moment. Taking in the sight of her sparkling eyes... Turquoise. Strange color. He'd never seen another woman with such a specific color eyes. It seemed like a perfectly calm and cool color matching her soft features, especially her soft lips smiling at him and the slight rosiness of her cheeks no doubt caused by the heat in the house, but it was such a soft pink one could confuse her for blushing. Blushing at him-

BU-BUMP-

A clawed hand harshly dug into the front of his haori as the rest of his body, including his eyes stayed motionless and fixated on you. The sudden grip of his arm made you jump and blink at his hand gripping his chest.

"A bee." She blinked back to him. "There was a bee flying about. Forgive me." His hand slowly lowered from his chest to reach out to her hands holding the objects. "I would like to examine the objects before I decide on any payment."

She nodded holding them out to him. "That's perfectly fine. I'd want to be sure you're getting what you're paying for."

She watched him pick up the candle first, his calloused hands brushing against her scared palms. ..Soft. Her skin was softer and warmer than it looked- He forcibly pushed those thoughts to the side and just looked at the red candle. Again eyes widened. Carved with the curve of the candle was a spiral circle twisting around itself, on the outside of the strange spiral circle was flames reaching out and dancing in different directions. It was...Lovely. His brother would no doubt definitely like this. She didn't say anything when he reached out and just took the other object from her hands and looked at it. The smell of mint was added to the spicy cinnamon, as he stared at the green soap carved into a rose. It wasn't the real thing, but it looked rather close to it. This should suffice for his wife.

You felt a slight nervous feeling the longer he stared at them before he bothered talking. "These will suffice."

A breath you didn't know you were holding escaped your mouth in a relieved sigh before smiling again at him. "I'm glad you find my work acceptable."

"What's your price?"

"Uh..." You.. hadn't really thought about that. You were too busy trying to get the work actually done and doing whatever your annoyed boss ordered you to do. "I..I haven't really thought about that actua-"

"Fifty ten!" You jumped and turned as your boss confidently shuffled up beside you both and proudly smiled at him. "No more no less! I charge a decent amount for my wares!"

You stared at her in shock. How could she stand there and dare yell at a frightening looking demon?! But then you realized. She must not know he's a demon. His long bangs hid most of his eyes and the darkness of the low hat he wore disguised anything else that might've peeked through, so unless you pushed them out of the way, you'd have no idea he wasn't human. Otherwise he looked completely normal like any other man. Nevertheless his head tilted at her... before silently looking back at you.

"How much did you want?" You looked back to him. "Money is not an issue."

"I just said-"

"It's rude to interrupt a conversation, especially one where you're not involved in, Woman." Your boss stopped shocked by his tone and you also looked surprised by his sudden slight annoyed tone. "I'm speaking to the one who actually put in the work."

Your boss stared slack jawed, obviously caught off guard that she'd dared to be talked like this before she again scowled and pointed at him. "I'll have you know that the candle and soap you're holding was made by my hands!!"

"And yet you're not the one who's made them into beautiful artworks. You did nothing but leave them to be used for anyone else to enjoy. My business is not with you."

"I put my hard work into those things! Who do you think you're talking to, Boy?!"

"A nagging wench who should learn to hold her tongue." Your jaw dropped and eyes went wide as your boss turned a deep red and so angry you were expecting steam to pop from her eardrums. "I refuse to do business with one who refuses my existence. Your wailing is so obnoxious that I could hear it in my sleep. You're position of owner doesn't apply to authority over her like a slave."

You were stunned to say the least. Watching silently as he just told your angry boss off like a child before his hand reached into the folds of his haori coat. The sounds of metal jingling filled the air as a decently sized bag was pulled out and held out to you.

"I believe this will cover the expenses for each of them."

You only continued to stare at the bag before shaking hands reached out to take it from him and good gods!! It had a bit of weight to it. Automatically you reached up to pull the strings lose and pull the cloth back- Only to almost have your eyes bug out of your skull at the sight of shining yellow.

"I-Is this-"

"Yes. And it's only for you. If anyone else should try to take it for whatever reason-" He spoke while putting his free hand on the hilt of his sword. "-I will not be so kind then." His actions got the old woman to go wide eyed before gulping and taking a step back.

"I-I don't know w-w-what to say." You stuttered out looking back at him. "I-I can't accept this much. T-This is much too much. I-Id be taking too much from you." Your hands held it back out to him. Your actions in doing so surprised him as he leaned back surprised. "At l-least take it back so we can work out a more appropriate payment."

He stared before turning his head from it. "No. You'd offend me more if you refused my offer." His words had you lower the bag. "Take it to make up for the lost wages my presence here has cost you." Wait. How did he know about that? "My business here is concluded. Will you be leaving soon?"

You just...numbly nodded before on autopilot reached down to pick up the broom again and just made back for the dirt pile that was still in front of the door. "I just need to finish the floor here." You mumbled.

"Then I shall wait and walk you home as it's late." He silently watched for a few seconds as you numbly finished your sweeping before turning back to the still pale old woman. "...Your wax is boiling over."

Her head snapped around and a screech left her mouth as the candle wax left unwatched boiled over and dropped messily into the fireplace the smell of burnt wax filling the air.

Her screech had snapped you out of your stupor and you made to help her but a strong hand grabbing your wrist had stopped you. "She can fix her own mess for once. Leave her and head home."

You could still hear her cussing and wails as you chose to walk down the street with a demon still holding your wrist, being too nervous to argue with the tall demon. The bag of gold coins firmly in your other hand as you awkwardly started walking down the road like this. A few people still walking around despite the setting sun stopped to give you both some curious looks but you only looked down red in embarrassment. This was incredibly strange and awkward for you and you had no idea what to think of this or how to feel. The best you could do was to just walk faster hoping to get to your home faster and get this over with. He said nothing during the entire duration of your traveling until you had tugged on your wrist and stopped in the middle of the road. He obliged and let you go as you looked at him.

"I-I live on the end of this road. You can part ways w-with me now," you spoke still politely as he looked at you, "T-Thank you for...for...for everything however. It was a pleasure doing business with you."

He only gave you a half lidded look. "That woman. She is the owner?"

You blinked as he just blatantly ignored anything you just said but slowly answered, "Yes?"

He hummed. "Hm. I am surprised that she's able to keep her business running the way she does ordering everyone around her like that."

You shrugged. "She's always been that way. People around here are just used to her by now. I'm used to it too."

"That is why you are a pushover?"

You frowned. "I'm not a pushover. I just don't have many options for a job being a woman especially in such a small town like this. If I quit or get fired then my only other choices would be to either settle down with one of the men as a wife or became a maid in the local inn."

"Do you not already work at that woman's maid?"

"Yes, but at least with her I know what I'm dealing with. The inn is also the local tavern where men like to drink. Id rather not deal with the drunk shenanigans of men...Ah. No offense."

He blinked. "You apologize to me as if I were a man to be offended-"

"Aren't you?," she asked innocently tilting her head and blinking her large eye almost...cutely. "I may not know a lot about you, but you are a man. Aren't you?"

"I am a demon."

"How is that relevant? You are a man, and I don't think you should be treated differently because of the small fact of being a demon or not."

He didn't say anything. Just stared at you with those eyes studying your figure for a long moment. Turquoise eyes blinked back at him sparkling from the retreating sunlight.

"....You should go home to your husband before it gets dark."

"I'm not married." He hummed at you. "I don't have a husband. I'm not seeing anyone."

A beautiful woman like her without a husband? Doubtful. At the very least she was already being courted and closed to being engaged.

"Hm...You should go inside before it gets dark. Women shouldn't stay out at night where it's dangerous."

You took that as your chance to leave. With another bow, you quickly turned and practically sped walked down the street until you got to your house at the very end of the road. You turned back once, made eye contact with his form, smiled and waved at him, before turning back around, and quickly opened the door. He watched her form fully disappear inside her home before turning and starting to walk away towards the exit of town.

Shame...She was rather lovely. Such unique eyes as well

[thedasdrabbles]

Slices of Life - Modern AU Thedas Valentines

He didn’t go all out for every holiday. Some didn’t have the same feel behind them, the same groove. Valentine’s Day was one where he put a little extra in, though -- in part because at first he hadn’t thought his lover would expect it and now because he liked to keep the expectations high and the anticipation just on the edge of heart pounding and breathless. He’d left a card tacked to the door for his lover to find when he made it home, a trail of flower petals starting in the foyer and leading up the stairs. The hall was dark save for the gently flickering glow of tiny LED candles that he’d left along the stairs, lighting the way for Ferion to follow. 

The trail led to their bathroom where there was another card, its contents brief and naughty with a post-script that contained promises of more scandalously wicked to come. 

Get cleaned up, get comfortable and come find the rest of your present whenever you’re ready.  - Bull

Alongside the card atop a neatly folded towel was a fresh bar of Ferion’s favorite soap, a new container of the scrub he had mentioned enjoying the last time Bull had brought it home, a small, unopened bottle of lube and a plug, weighted nicely with a heart-shaped flare. It was easily enough to imagine what the rest of his ‘present’ might be from there.... The rest of the night was going to be good. Bull would make sure that he’d get it nice and hard to counter all of the soft. He always did, and each Valentines Day they spent together made it seem like he always would.

--------------------

Rylen didn’t do romance, at least that was what he always said. He had other ways of letting Cullen know that he loved him throughout the year and early on in their relationship they’d come to terms with the fact that Valentine’s Day wasn’t really for them. It meant that neither of them took issue with the fact that as part of his work rotations his travels typically had him out of town over that holiday; something that he was more than alright with as it meant he was back for the ones that meant more to them. 

It didn’t mean that he spent Valentines alone, however. Why waste a perfectly good night centered around fine dining, fine wine and lingerie alone when he could spend it in the company of Miranda… 

 He’d promised to keep his eyes closed after dinner -- a dinner they’d had delivered to his room rather than eating out this time, neither one of them of a mood to deal with the typical crowds drawn to high-end restaurants even if they could have worked a private dining room into their expenditure budget. She’d talked him into wearing a tie that night and he was painfully aware of its closeness, each draw of breath making him all the more aware of it along with the knowledge that he could hear her moving around, breath catching when he caught a trace of her perfume drifting closer.

 When he felt her fingers tug at the tie to loosen it he almost opened his eyes, knowing with the way she had to have  leaned in he would have gotten a glorious eyeful of the tops of her breasts spilling over whatever she was wearing -- either the dress she’d donned for dinner or whatever she had on beneath it. He closed them tighter, though, knowing she hadn’t yet told him he could peek yet and the resulting laughter, sultry and sweet like honey was entirely worth it just like the rest of the night would be… 

--------------------

The kitchen was filled with laughter, music lightly floating through the background. Her sides were starting to ache but it felt so good that she didn’t care. Eli leaned back into Cullen’s arms, cheeks rosy and warm as she tipped her head to rest against his shoulder, peering up to him. She couldn’t remember ever being with anyone who’d made her feel this way before -- so light, so loved. It must have shown in her eyes as they met his because she only had a second to process the desire that shifted through his amber eyes before he was kissing her breathless. 

With a soft gasp followed by a low moan she turned, slipping her arms around his neck. Before she knew it his hands were on her hips, lifting her to set her on the counter. He seemed to take a second to breathe, the briefest of pauses to make sure she was alright and that there was no trace of protest before he was kissing her again. If kissing Rylen was like drowning in desire, kissing Eli was like a rush of spring air, warm and gently demanding in the most wonderful of ways. He couldn’t imagine his life without either of them, but he was so grateful for moments like this, that he could have moments like this. 

Cullen drew back slowly, touching his nose to hers, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth only to lean back, smiling. His smile brought the light of the sun to his face, warm and just a bit sheepish. “This isn’t going to get the rest of dinner put away.” 

“Says the man who put me up here,” she laughed, closing her eyes in an attempt to find her breath, always amazed by how easily he could take it away. From the den she heard a woof which drew another soft, breathless laugh. “See… Sari agrees with me.” 

“Traitor…” He muttered beneath his breath, acting cross for the briefest of moments before kissing her again. They’d get back to the leftovers sooner or later… Probably later…

--------------------

“We’re going to miss our reservations.” He’d made plans this year, just as he tried to make plans every year. For Garret Hawke plans were often things to be shuffled around or rescheduled, especially when they involved plans with Anders. The medic had gotten much better over the years, started taking better care of himself, dropped a few bad habits and picked up a handful of others that were less detrimental to their relationship. It wasn’t always easy, but they’d made things work after a fair amount of growth and work between them. 

“We’re not going to miss our reservations. They’re not for another hour and a half, Hawke -- that’s more than enough time for me to finish getting dressed, make sure Liberty and Barkus have had their Valentine’s treats and be on our way.” His lips pursed together into a pout as he looked over to the other man after pulling his shirt down over his head, taking the time to smooth wrinkles that weren’t there out of it. He loved Garret desperately and it had taken him more time than it should have to come to terms with that, even longer to come to terms with the idea that he could be loved that fiercely in return. Spending a day with him meant everything… Spending this day with him meant more. 

“We are going to miss our reservations if you keep looking at me like that while looking like that, though.” Hawke grinned as he stepped up, slipping an arm around Anders’ middle as he planted a kiss on the corner of the other man’s mouth. “Check your hair once or twice more, like I know you’re going to do, grab that necklace you’ve changed your mind on twice… This shirt is fine. It was fine the last time you put it on before you tried something else and it will go well with that coat that you love that you swear doesn’t match the jeans you have on, but it does. I’ll feed your cat and Barkus and then we’ll be on our way. Dinner and a movie. Normal Valentines. Promise.” 

“Normal?” His heart swelled as he looked at Hawke, reaching up to rest a hand alongside the other man’s face. He leaned in to brush a soft kiss to the other man’s lips, his expression radiating all of the love and affection he had found a hard time giving voice to for so long. “Nothing about being with you is normal, Hawke… And that’s part of what I love about it. About you. About us...”

--------------------

He approached the tub with two glasses of wine, holding one out to his lover and waiting for him to take it before reaching down to trail his fingers through the water. It was warm enough that it would feel wonderful, the steam already reminding him that Ryn’s next business trip would take them somewhere away from the snow that had fallen outside. They’d stayed in that night, not wanting to get caught out if it came back with a vengeance -- an excuse on his part, really. In truth, he’d just wanted Ryn to himself. 

 He set his glass down on the edge of the tub as he stepped up and into the water, seeming entirely satisfied as he sank down into it opposite the other man. He nudged his lover’s hip with his foot as he leaned back, retrieving his glass to take a sip. “This? This is the life, amatus. Warm, comfortable, quiet dinner at home, wine… You.” His smile was warm, eyes only for the man sitting across from him. He’d known that Ryn was the type of man he could easily find himself falling for almost from the start but he hadn’t expected them to be so good together, so good for each other. 

He took another sip of his wine, easing back again and closing his eyes. It was a moment before he heard the soft clink of a glass being set down across from him, the shift of water moving around him as Ryn leaned forward, kneeling between his knees. He opened his eyes in time to see the other man leaning in, following his lover’s movement as he plucked the glass from his fingers and set it down as well. When he felt Ryn’s lips press against his he pressed back, fingers sliding into the other man’s hair to draw him down closer. Ryn was the best part of this, the best part of everything. Ryn made their house home, made wherever they went when he traveled somewhere that he wanted to be. 

Dorian often thought that Ryn was a better man than him, had thought at first that Ryn might be too good for him -- too good to be true. They’d unearthed flaws, grown and evolved and now they were so good together. Their romance was the kind meant for lifetimes, not just for a single day, and he intended to make sure that Ryn knew that in every way.  

--------------------

“Tethras Investigations.” He’d kicked back in his chair, heels on the corner of his desk, the pages for the novel he’d been working on tucked into folders on the opposite side. He had a deadline to meet, but deadlines could wait. Deadlines meant little when it came to spending Valentines with the light of his life, especially when it came to having the opportunity to dress up while doing so. 

He reached up to tip his at up just enough that he could get a good look at her as she came in the door. For a second he lost character -- more than a second, honestly. It was going to take a beat or two for him to pick his jaw up off of the floor. “Shit, Gadget, you didn’t tell me you were going that far out. If I’d’ve known I would’ve done more than just put together some things from my closet…” He caught himself as she clicked her tongue to chastise him, clearing his throat in an attempt to find his character again. “What can I do for you, doll?”

His eyes followed her as she sashayed towards his desk, the glamor of the vintage fashion suiting her far better than he would have expected. He didn’t know why he hadn’t expected that, really, given how good she looked in just about everything she put on. If the Renaissance Festival had been any proof of that, well… 

“I’ve heard you’re good at what you do, possibly the best.” She made her way around to his desk, nudging his feet down off of the corner so she could take a seat on the edge of it. Grinning, Lani leaned back on one hand, resting a foot on the chair between his thighs. “Tell me, Mr Tethras… Are you the best?” 

She was going to be the death of him, the absolute utter death of him. He cracked again, for a shorter spell this time, recovering by holding her gaze as he rested his hand on her calf as he leaned in to brush his lips to her knee. “That all depends, ma’am, on what you’ve heard I’m the best at… Why don’t you let me know and we’ll go from there? All I’ll say up front is that I never leave a job unfinished or a dame unsatisfied.” That was enough to trip her up, his knack for witty dialogue and bad one-liners finally coming through. The resulting laughter was well worth it. 

Shit, everything with her was worth it. She’d done so much for him in the time they’d known one another, drawing him out of a bottle he hadn’t known he’d been hiding him and introducing him to some of the most beautiful parts of life. Whatever he’d done, however he’d managed to get this lucky, Varric knew he’d never be able to top convincing Lanira to be his wife. 

[amelie-lejuste]

Pieces of Me. 1994

Amelia Bones is, and always has been, too practical. This is what occurs to her when she sits on the floor of her- their- kitchen one evening while Kingsley is working late. 

This happens to be, to her recent memory, one of the only times where her heart and her head are in agreement about the practicality of their lives and the choices that need to be made. 

Voldemort was back. It was a shock to them all, and then not-- his defeat had been too easy, too quick, and returning to “real life” (as many had deemed it) felt hollow and uncertain. But those early days turned into substantial years and it seemed easy enough to get swallowed into the minutiae of her life-- which often seemed complicated enough without a war to top it off. 

But with his return promised one thing for them all-- uncertainty. In many ways Amelia is wondering why this hadn’t occurred to her previously, given that their missions were always in some way precarious. Even harder still was the fact that while she sat on a bench, ultimately safe in the soulless walls of the courtroom, Kingsley still ventured out into the world...without her to be by his side. 

The box in front of her is nondescript and blue, picked up as an afterthought by Amelia on the premise that it matched the tile in their bathroom. But it suited her needs, so she plucked it, emptying the candles into another part of the house to be forgotten about among the Christmas lights and coats that didn’t fit. 

But what to add to it? 

She starts with a picture, the first taken of them. That is perhaps one of her biggest hurdles of their relationship to her-- the secrecy of it all. How she wished every counter and wall in their home was littered with photos of the memories that sit in her head. 

The picture is soon joined by several more duplicates of their originals-- the majority of them taken on missions, where asking a stranger to take a photo of you and your husband is a normality, and not a societal scandal. 

Next comes a handkerchief, sprayed with the perfume that Kingsley prefers her in. She breathes it in, deeply. 

Then a bundle of letters, covert notes sent back and forth between them in the office, on missions, in day to day life when that is what connected them to one another across the Aurory floor. She’s collected them for years, unable to discard a shred of their life together. 

This is followed by some legal documents, she cannot bring herself to read them. The division of her assets, as limited as they are, is perhaps too substantial for her to face after a glass of wine.

Finally, she places a letter on top, written two nights previously when sleep evaded her and she was able to sneak out of bed without waking him up.

She hesitates, wanting to open it, but afraid that if she reads it it will seal the fate that he might some day need to come across this box at all. 

Years later, he does. When she dies, it materializes quietly in the corner drawer of his desk at work. 

Love, 

It’s my deepest hope that this is something you never read. I hope that I’m able to, many years from now, throw it into the fireplace on top of a log and pretend that it is nothing more than a bit of scrap paper when you ask me what I’m doing. 

If you’ve received this box, I can be incredibly certain that I am not there to hand it to you, and for that I am sorry. Know that it was my wish to stay with you until our hands were wrinkled and our hair was greyer than grey. Know that I love you. 

Oh, how I love you. 

You will forever and always have my entire heart. The messy bits, the dusty bits, the parts that were oh so reluctant all of those years ago. I have always doubted the value that you bestowed in me, but for what I am worth, I am yours. 

You are a beacon of hope, Kingsley. For me, for our friends, for all magical people.  I know that with or without me by your side you will set this world on the right path. Everything I know about being good or choosing what’s right is reflected in you. 

Thank you. For loving me, for building this beautiful life with me, for allowing me to keep it tucked quietly between our hearts when it might’ve been easier to shout it from the rooftops. I could ask for nothing greater than a life spent with you. 

Stay strong-- I am always with you. 

Love, Devotion, and all things in between, 

Amelia

p.s. please don’t forget to water the plants.

[lolzcollz]

R I N G

I knew from the second I saw her that I would ask her to marry me. We met on the subway on day in March. All the cars were full, as usual, and I was running late, as usual, so I had to squeeze in where ever I could. I managed to get on the train just as the doors were closing. I had a huge meeting that day and I really tried to wake up earlier and be on time but I managed to fuck it up again. So there I was, between an old man who smelled like urine and her. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever set my eyes on. She had chestnut brown hair that made me long to run my hands through it. Her eyes were green as emeralds and somehow managed to twinkle in the overhead artificial light. She dressed smart, in a dark burgundy pant suit and wore shoes with enough heel to give her a couple extra inches. Her smell was almost enough to over-power the urine man standing to my right but I’ll be honest, the man reeked. I leaned closer to her to whiff her perfume. She smelled of warmth. Like a fire on a cold October night. You know the night, when you’re gathered around with your loved ones and you roast marshmallows and pound cheap beer and revel in your youth? That’s how she smelled. I leaned even closer and sniffed again. I closed my eyes and imagined sitting around that fire with her in my arms and us drinking a bottle of red wine and looking at the stars. At the peak of my whiff she shifted her weight to her other foot, as she did her head bashed into my nose and mouth. I accidentally bit my lip and started to bleed.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” She said to me. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of tissues. “Here, are you okay?” She handed one to me. I put it to my lip and looked at it. There was quite a lot of blood on it.

“I’m fine, really.” I said. I hoped I was playing it cool enough. I don’t think she realized I was so close to her because I was smelling her. At least I prayed she didn’t realize I was so close to her because I was smelling her.

“Are you sure? I’m so sorry. I didn’t see how close you were behind me.” She said. There was no hint of suspicion in her voice.

“Yeah, it’s just a little bit crammed this morning.” I laughed. To my surprise, she laughed back.

“It always is, isn’t it? I keep telling myself I’ll wake up earlier and not have to squeeze into the train like a sardine in a tin but I just love my sleep.” She smiled at me. I nearly melted.

“I keep saying the same thing!” I exclaimed.

“I’m Jenny.” She introduced herself.

“Tom.” I replied as the train came to a stop.

“Well, this is me.” She said suddenly shy. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Tom.”

“I sure hope so.” I said. She blushed and left the train. As she walked away she turned back and looked at me again. I gave her a small wave and a smile. She smiled back and kept walking.

When I got to work and walked into the conference room, everything I had planned to say vanished from my brain. All I could think about was Jenny. I managed to stumble through the meeting and when it was over I returned to my desk and sat down.

“Dude, what the fuck?” My co-worker Brian said to me, “You just blew any chance we had at getting that deal.”

“Brian,” I said, “There’s more important things in this life.”

“More important? There’s nothing more important than this.” He said. “What the fuck’s gotten into you?”

“I’m in love.” I told him matter-of-factly.

“You’re in love?” He scoffed at me. “Is this like when you were in love with Sarah? Or Paula? Or any other random chick you meet on the street and obsess over?”

“This is the real deal.” I told him sternly. “I’m not fucking around.” Brian had made me angry with his mention of Sarah and Paula. “Don’t you have shit to do? Can you leave?”

“Whatever, dude.” He did as I hoped and walked away from my desk and left me in peace to think about Jenny.

The next morning I woke up at the same time and did my morning routine exactly as I could remember it from the day before. I wanted to get on the same car at the same time so I would run into Jenny again. When I got to the station and the train came through, I saw her. She was on the same train in the same spot and my heart fluttered. I rushed into the crowd and squeezed into the train taking my spot right next to her.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I told her. She looked up and smiled.

“It is, isn’t it?” She asked. We talked the whole ride and when she got off this time she left me with her phone number. I couldn’t believe my luck. This couldn’t be just luck I thought this was fate.

I floated through the day again not accomplishing much except writing drafts of the first text I’d send to Jenny. I wanted to make sure it was the perfect first text. When I got home I finally sent the text. It read, “Hi Jenny, it’s Tom. Would you like to grab a drink tonight?” She answered within ten minutes and said she’d love to. I told here where and when to meet me and started to get ready.

When I got to the bar, she was waiting outside. She looked incredible. She wore a black dress with no sleeves and a plunging neck line that showed me more of her than I’d seen the past two days. She hugged me when I walked over to her.

“Tom! Long time no see.” She winked at me. I took her hand and led her into the bar. We drank and talked and laughed all night. When the time came to leave she took my hand and told me she wished the night didn’t have to end. I told her it didn’t and brought her back to my apartment. That first night we spent together was amazing. We made love like I’ve never done before and after she slept in my arms. We woke up together the next morning and made love again. The spark between us was palpable. We both called off of work that day and spent it together. Mostly in bed and mostly naked but occasionally leaving the room to get food or use the bathroom. It was the first of many days I wanted to spend with her.

“This has been just incredible.” I told her when she was finally getting dressed to go back to her apartment that evening.

“It really was, wasn’t it?” She agreed with me. I walked her to the door and kissed her goodbye. “See you on the train tomorrow?” She asked me.

“I’ll be there.” I assured her. And that’s how it went. The next three months we saw each other every morning on the train. Sometimes she slept at my house and we got on at my station. Sometimes I slept at her house and we got on at her station. Other times we slept separately and met each other in our normal spots on our normal subway car. After those three months I asked Jenny to move in. She seemed a bit overwhelmed at first but after she considered it, she agreed. We moved her into my apartment over the next three weeks.

I had never been happier and Jenny seemed pretty happy, too. We made love every night and woke up in each other’s arms every morning. I couldn’t imagine my life without her and that’s when I knew I should propose.

I waited another two months before I finally popped the question. I spent weeks figuring out the best way to do it and what kind of ring to buy. I decided on a 1-1/4 carat 14K white gold ring that cost me about ten grand. I didn’t mind though, Jenny was worth the money I spent on it. I made a plan to cook her dinner one night. I would make her favorite meal, duck confit, and buy the most expensive bottle of red wine that I could find.

“Jenny, clear your schedule tonight. I want to make you dinner.” I told her that morning.

“Dinner, huh? Trying to wine and dine me?” She joked. I kissed her cheek and tickled her stomach.

“Every day of my life.” She laughed and told me she would. We both got ready for work and headed to the station. I kissed her goodbye as she got off and I waited for the next stop to get off the train myself. I jumped on the next train that headed back to my apartment so I could get everything started for that night.

I spent hours in the kitchen ensuring each detail was exactly as I wanted it. By the time Jenny got home that night, I had dinner ready, wine airing out to be poured, the ring in my pocket, and candles lit.

“Tom! Oh my God!” She gasped as she walked in the door. “What is all this?” She asked.

“I just wanted to do something special for you. To tell you how much I really love you.” I told her.

“Well, let me go get changed. I can’t eat dinner in this.” She said and walked to the bedroom. I poured us wine as she got dressed and when she walked out she was wearing the black dress from our first date. I handed her a glass of wine and toasted her.

“To us.” I said, “I love you, Jenny.”

“I love you too, Tom.” She replied and clinked her glass with mine. I led her to the table and pulled out her chair motioning for her to sit. She did and I pushed in the chair while she sat down. I walked over to the record player. I grabbed the Naima record from Les Double Six and French Jazz filled the room. I walked back into the kitchen and plated the food.

“Do you need any help?” Jenny called from the other room.

“No! Stay where you are.” I yelled back. I carefully carried both plates to the table and sat down myself.

“Duck confit? I knew I smelled that when I walked in.” She smiled at me. “Thank you, Tom. This is so sweet of you.”  I grabbed her hand across the table and kissed her fingers gently.

“I would do anything for you.” I told her. We ate dinner and quietly chatted just enjoying each other’s presence and the jazz playing through the speakers. When we finished eating we sat and drank our wine. When we had drained our glasses I promptly got up to refill them. I pulled the box out of my pocket. I quietly dropped the ring into her glass and covered it with the wine. I hadn’t realized it wasn’t super obvious through the dark wine and the dim candle light but I had already gotten this far. I couldn’t back down now. I carried our drinks back to the table and handed her the glass with the ring. I toasted her one last time and sipped my wine. Jenny took a sip from her wine as well but the ring hadn’t moved from the bottom of the glass. I began to clear the plates from the table.

When I took the plates from the table to the kitchen, Jenny must have finished her wine. She didn’t realize there was a ring at the bottom of her glass and she had just downed the whole thing. Her throat was open enough to allow the ring to go down but the diamond that protruded scratched her throat and the ring got stuck halfway down. I didn’t know she was silently choking on the ten thousand dollar ring I had bought her. I loaded the dishwasher with the dirty plates. By the time I reentered the living room Jenny’s face was pressed into the table. I ran over and pulled her head back.

“Jenny?” I asked her. She didn’t reply. “Jenny?” I yelled louder. “Oh, my God, Jenny.” Tears sprang to my eyes. I tried to slap her awake but it didn’t work. The love of my life, my future wife, Jenny, she was dead. I looked at her empty wine glass and saw the lump in her throat. It was my entire fault she had died.

I pulled her off of the chair and she slumped to the ground with a thud. Her once full of life body had not an ounce left in her. I took her head and held it in my lap and I cried. My tears spilled over my face and fell onto hers. I rocked her back and forth and listened to the rest of the record play. When it was done the needle kept spinning.

 Colleen Burke

10.2.2019