#i crave hope though. we are living through incredibly troubled times

[iceglade]

Hey. The reason you love gundam is the reason i love legend of the galactic heroes and xenogears. They are both about how each generation forgets the lessons of the previous. I think you will love these things too.

(googling) 1980s-1990s CONTENT HAS THE SAUCE, I BELIEVE IT ! i just get so obsessed with stuff... with gundam specifically, i knew on a certain level how influential it+stuff from this era is on more modern stuff that i love, but watching gundam i was just struck with the realization that everything i wanted from a show was there all along, right at the beginning... what the heck

i 100% believe if i was to look into both of those (ohh xenogears -> xenoblade HOLD ONNNN NOW....) id adore them oh my god put a pin in that one for like 2 or so years

[captainsophiestark]

Fatherhood

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Prompt: “Do you remember?”

Summary: Y/N and Nik have been dating since the Mikaelsons moved to New Orleans and Y/N got turned into a vampire. When Nik starts to feel worried about his ability to parent Hope, who's due to join the world soon, Y/N helps reassure him.

Word Count: 1,603

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: I forgot to post this yesterday lol, so here it is! The fic for today’s Fictober prompt will be coming later today too :)

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I hummed to myself as I walked through the door of the bedroom I shared with my boyfriend, Klaus Mikaelson. I'd just finished baking a BUNCH of cookies with Hayley and Rebekah, and it had been a much-needed stress relief, especially after all the chaos of New Orleans lately. Besides, Hayley had been craving cookies in her heavily-pregnant state, so who were we to deny her?

I headed into the bedroom fully intending to change my clothes and go run some errands, but I stopped short at the sight of Nik staring out the window with his hands behind his back, a grim expression on his face.

"Uh oh," I said, gently closing the door behind me before slowly crossing the room towards my boyfriend. "I recognize that expression. You've got your brooding face on."

Normally, the teasing would've at least made Nik give me a half-smile or an eyeroll. But this time he didn't even glance back at me from his vigil.

"Nik? What's wrong?" I asked, finally reaching him and putting a hand on his shoulder as soon as I did. "C'mon, you can talk to me."

He sighed heavily before shaking his head and plastering a smile to his face. For those who didn't know him very well, it probably would've been quite convincing. But I knew him better than almost anyone else, and it didn't fool me for a second.

"Nothing," he said, trying to maintain the ruse all the same. "Some trouble with the witches that I'm deciding how to deal with, but nothing out of the ordinary."

With that, he tried to step around me and head towards the door. I frowned and caught his arm, gently pulling him to a stop. He turned to look at me, the fake-unbothered expression still on his face as he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Nik. I know you way better than that. I can tell something's wrong, so please, talk to me," I said. Nik hesitated, so I held his stare, trying to communicate nothing but openness and acceptance. He'd lived so much of his life alone, and carrying secrets without trusting anyone, that I knew he was still getting used to letting someone else in. We'd been making incredible progress lately, though, and I hoped we could keep that momentum up.

"I suppose..." he said, starting softly as he turned away from me and went to put on some loud music to defeat anyone trying to listen in. "I'm starting to doubt whether or not I will make for a very good father."

He stayed over by the stereo as he admitted it, fiddling with the knobs and not looking at me. I didn't want to spook him off of the conversation, so I sat down on our bed and watched him.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

He shifted around on his feet, and it was a few minutes before he finally answered. He still didn't look at me as he spoke, either.

"Well, just look at the example set by my father," he spat the word father, and I couldn't help frowning a bit at the thought of Mikael, too. "I've never had a stable parent. I don't want to be like them, but they're all I've ever known. I'm... afraid... of turning into them."

I chewed the inside of my lip, thinking over my next words carefully. After a second, I stood, and crossed the room to Nik. He still didn't look at me, but I put my hands on his shoulders and saw some of the tension ease out of them all the same.

"Nik... you're already doing better than both of them combined by trying to protect Hope at all," I started. He huffed a small laugh, and I continued. "Besides, Nik, you've been taking care of the rest of your family for years. I mean sure, a child is probably going to be a little different, but... even against your parents specifically, you were the person standing up and protecting your family, above all else."

Nik sighed and leaned back towards me, and I wasted no time wrapping my arms around his stomach. I held him tight to me, resting my head against his shoulder and trying to communicate just how loved he really was.

"What if it's not enough?" he finally sighed. "What if, no matter how hard I try, I give her a life of pain and trauma like my parents gave me?"

My heart cracked at the words. Nik had quite literally been through hell, often at the hands of his parents, and I wished every day there was something I could do to take away his pain. Instead, however, I just spoke the words that came to mind and hoped they might help.

"Niky, I know you may not feel this way, but I have nothing but absolute confidence that you're going to be a great dad." He started to scoff and brush me off, but I held tight and kept going. He needed to hear this, even if he wouldn't let himself completely believe it. "Babe, you saved me when I first turned into a vampire. Do you remember?"

He hummed noncommittally and kept staring at the floor, so I moved (still hugging him tight around the middle) until I could look him in the eyes.

"I was devastated. I was terrified. I was alone, and I was on the brink of death because this city didn't place nice with newly-turned vampires. And then I met you. And you showed me how to live despite technically being dead, and got me a daylight ring, and dammit, Nik, you saved my life. You were kind, and caring, and wonderful, and I know you don't usually let people see that part of yourself, but I know it exists. And if it can exist for me, someone you'd really just met but happened to have good chemistry with? You're gonna be a million times above and beyond that with your lovely, beautiful, wonderful daughter when she comes into this world."

Nik sighed out a long breath, a tight smile tugging at his mouth even as he tried to fight it off. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around me and held me to him like his life depended on it. I caught a slight shimmer of emotion in his eyes too, and although I knew he wouldn't let the tears fall, I could tell he was closer than normal by the uneven rise and fall of his chest.

"One other thing you should probably know, Nik?" I said, my voice muffled against his chest. He hummed, nestling in a little closer against my hair as he did. "No parent is perfect. You learn as you go. But as long as you're thoughtful in your choices and how you parent, and you're willing to learn and adapt? You're gonna be fine. And damned if that lovely little girl isn't going to grow up surrounded by so many people who love her, with you at the top of the list."

Nik tightened his grip around my waist, and I squeezed him right back. We stayed like that for a few long moments, before he took a deep breath and finally pulled away.

"Have I told you lately how much I adore you?" he asked, staring at me with love in his eyes. I gave him a warm smile in return.

"Yeah, but I could stand to hear it again."

We shared a soft laugh, then Nik took another deep breath and shook off the last of his stress. He straightened again, then fixed me with the devious smile I knew and loved so well.

"So, now that I don't have to pretend to go deal with a witch crisis, and assuming no actual witch crisis has arisen in the minutes we were speaking... it looks like I have a free afternoon."

"Ooo. I have some ideas," I said, giving him a sly smile as I leaned in and put my hand on his bicep. He raised an eyebrow, and I fluttered my eyelashes at him as I responded. "We could have a movie marathon while we eat a ton of the cookies Hayley, Rebekah, and I just baked."

Nik sighed and rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

"I have to admit, love, that's not exactly the idea I was thinking of. But I suppose it sounds good anyway."

I grinned and dropped the flirty act. "Great! You use your superspeed to steal some cookies, I'll get some good movies together."

Nik raised an eyebrow and gave me a skeptical look. "When you say good movies do you actually mean good movies?"

"Mmm, that depends. I was thinking I'd pick a few of my favorite Disney movies from when I grew up so you'd know things about them in case you wanted to share them with Hope?"

Nik gave me a warm smile, then took a few steps backwards towards the door.

"I'd consider those excellent movies then," he said. "I'll be back with the cookies before you know it."

With that, he disappeared from the room. I smiled to myself as I moved towards the tv, mentally trying to come up with a list of the best movies for us to watch. Despite (and sometimes because of) his concerns, I knew Nik would be an excellent parent. And I absolutely couldn't wait to see how he would grow and change with her as they went through life together.

[lovemesomeharry]

REASSURANCE

Warnings: Angst

Words: 2k

Summary: Harry feels insecure and needs reassurance that Y/N won’t leave him.

The sun was shining, birds were singing and the sound of water splashing made the summer feeling even sweeter. The distant sound of people talking was almost unnoticeable, compared to the hectic and loud streets of London, Y/N, and Harry was so used to. It almost made them forget how quiet the world could be and they were thankful for the little getaway into a peaceful habitat to recollect themselves.

Currently, Y/N was sitting on a chair on the balcony of the small Italian house, reading a book Harry urged her to, a while ago, and eating grapes every once in a while when she had to turn the page. Her white summer dress was floating in the wind and her hair was up in a ponytail to keep the strains of hair out of her concentrated face. The tip of her tongue was sticking out as she tried to imagine the scenario she had just read, not noticing her boyfriend staring at her in awe further away.

Harry was trying to cool himself down at the small pool, Y/N had great access at looking at, and he had hoped she’d join him but she was too focussed on her reading to even notice the lack of attention she was giving her boyfriend. Wet hair was sticking to his forehead and tiny little droplets we're covering his body when he looked up to see her sitting on the balcony. His heart immediately picked up on speed and started to hammer harder against his ribcage. His emerald eyes were scanning every single one of her outlines, trying his best to memorize them as if she was his favorite painting he never wanted to forget.

With a muffed sigh he got out of the pool and instantly felt the hot ground beneath his feet as he grabbed a towel to dry himself off a bit, knowing well that his girlfriend wouldn't approve of him getting the expensive Italian carpet wet.

It was really not a big deal to him but it was to her and he was glad about it. She kept him grounded, even though Harry could swear he was on cloud nine, nowhere near the ground, whenever he remembered she was his to love and he was hers.

He truly couldn't grasp how she’d even consider being with him, knowing what consequences and difficulties he had brought into her life but he was too selfish to push her away and he was happy she never considered leaving him. Even if he couldn’t understand her decision.

When he finally got to see her again, she didn't notice him right away. For a moment Harry let the cold fan air surround him before he decided that she’d spent enough time reading a book. With big and fast steps, he walked into the balcony and stopped right behind her so he could wrap his arms around her shoulders.

A small shriek left her lips and her body jolted forward a bit, making Harry smirk. “Hey, love. What are you doing?” He wrapped his arms tighter around her as she tried to push him away slightly.

“Don’t scare me like that!” She complained but did not close the book yet much to Harry’s dislike. He wanted all of her attention on him. “Besides I was reading the book you wanted me to.” She held the book up so he could see what she was reading. He nuzzled his face into her neck, covering it with sweet kisses as a blush crept onto his face, heating his face up. She couldn’t be more adorable to him than at this moment, he thought. He loved that she always listened to him and paid attention to what he was saying. It made the butterflies in his stomach go crazy knowing she cared enough about him to read one of his favorite books. He knew he’d read her favorites within a second but never expected her to return the favor. “Thought we could talk about it once I finish it.” Y/N suggested only making those emotions Harry was feeling stronger. He really wondered how she still had this effect on him after all this time being together and hoped he was causing the same impact on her.

“Sure.” He said leaving open mouth kisses on her jaw. “But first, your boyfriend needs some attention.” She turned her head to the side to get a look at his beautiful face and got lost into his mesmerizing eyes once she looked into them. His long eyelashes were framing them perfectly and the tiny freckles on his face made her want to count them so she could tell everyone how many he had on his cheeks. She felt his large hands grip her forearm, squeezed it slightly before he planted a kiss on her nose. Her body melted into his embrace as if it was missing his kisses the whole day and craved them already.

When he let go of her she made sure to take his hand in hers and put the book on the round glass table in front of her. Her legs, that were pulled up to her chest, were set back on the ground so that she could have better look at him. He sat down next to her, squeezing her hand back when a small yawn escaped his mouth.

“Are you tired, baby?” She asked and studied her boyfriend carefully. His lips turned upwards and with his other hand, he ran through his fluffy mustache that was tickling her neck not even a few seconds ago. He looked so different with it, she thought but not in a bad way. He looked older with his ’Mario mustache’, as he liked to refer to it, and made him feel proud of finally being able to grow some facial hair. And it came in handy in the bedroom. So how could she ever dislike the little bit of hair?

He nodded his head. “A bit.” She couldn’t deny that he was looking tired but not enough for him to be craving a deep slumber.

“Should we go to bed?” She asked only making Harry feel softer for her. She said ‘we’ and it made his heart swoon and wonder what he’d done to deserve an angel like her.

God, he was so whipped.

“No. But come here.” He hummed and opened his arms. No more words were needed for her to understand what he’d meant and she was already climbing on his lap. Her legs were dangled from each side and her hands found their way into his hair, pulling slightly on the hair on his neck. A deep, satisfied sigh left his mouth and he had to fight the urge to kiss her breathless, fearing he’d be too clingy. “I love you. You know that, right?” He asked instead and held her hips tighter.

Worry was clouding his innocent face and Y/N could only frown. “Of course, H. Is everything alright?” She didn’t want him to think that she didn’t know that because she did. She felt so appreciated, adored, and mostly so incredibly loved because he never failed to prove his feelings to her. Even if it’s just making her coffee the way she liked it or him knowing when she’d get her period so he’d have all the candy ready, she was going to crave.

Sometimes she’d even feel bad about it, thinking she wasn’t giving him enough love. Thinking he deserved somebody better as she did at that moment. Maybe she should have put the book away and focussed more on him, she thought.

Her fingers were massaging his head in hope of calming him down. “Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you know that.” He shook his head as if he was trying to figure his words out and let out a breathy but nervous laugh. “I don’t deserve you, angel. You’re too good to me.” Y/N wanted to ask him if he was joking but seeing the sincerity in his eyes made her swallow the lump in her throat. How could he ever think that, she wondered truthfully.

“Why would you say that?” Her hands stopped playing with his hair, what Harry didn’t like but he kept his mouth shut about it. His heart aches to see the worry and hurt in her eyes as the previous sparkle died down. He mentally cursed at himself for making her feel this way when it was supposed to be their getaway vacation, for them to escape the hectic world they lived in.

His fingers were playing with the fabric of her dress, which she looked ravishing in, only making her look more like an actual angel. “I don’t know why you’re with me when I bring more trouble than joy.” His shoulders sagged and the sadness in his voice made a painful throb run through her heart. She couldn’t believe he would think that and felt as if she didn’t do a good job as his girlfriend proving to him that he was all she ever needed. Y/N wished she could make those thoughts disappear out of his head, but to Harry, they came completely naturally after multiple broken relationships due to his lifestyle no one seemed to be able to put up with. And to think that she’ll leave him too, was a pain no one could’ve ever prepared himself for. Just by the thought of never holding her again and getting to smell her sweet scent made him tear up and something laced his neck, keeping him from breathing.

“Harry, that’s not true. I love you.” She tried to reassure him and once he lowered his gaze she took his chin into her hands, forcing him to look at her. The corner of his eyes was filling up with tears and Y/N wondered how she didn’t realize what was going on in her boyfriend's head. “I’m sorry if I hadn’t made it clear before but there’s no one and nothing I’d trade you for. Ever.”

“It’s just-“ He stopped to take a deep breath to collect his thoughts. “I, I’m scared, ok? I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and not love me anymore. That you’ll realize I’m not worth the trouble.” Y/N saw how he was fighting with his tears, felt how his hands started shaking around her hips, and his voice got so quiet that he was barely whispering. She wanted to kiss his troubles away but felt so helpless not knowing what to do. “Sometimes I wonder if I should just let you go, but I’m too selfish.”

“Love, I never wanted you to be selfish more than I do right now.” Her voice was slowing losing its power and tears started to form at the brim of her eyes. “I love you, Harry. I love you so much and I really don’t care what we have to go through as long as we’re in this together.” She pressed her forehead against his and let the small skin contact send shivers down her spine and try her best to take all this negativity away. Her fingers were gripping his face and pulling him closer, if it was possible. “You’ve no idea how much you mean to me. You’re worth risking everything for and I’d rather lose everything before I’ll lose you. My heart just wouldn’t be able to take it.”

Harry was still battling inner thoughts even though he believed her and Y/N saw the conflict going on inside of him. Her thumb stroked his cheek and finally, he started to lean into her touch. He breathed the hot air out of his lungs when he pulled back to look at her properly. ”You sure?”

”I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” And with that, she finally captured his lips with hers, trying her hardest to get the insecurity out of him. His soft lips moved perfectly in rhythm with hers and by the shape of their mouths, both parties were convinced that their lips were meant to be together. Harry sighed into the kiss and even though he still believed she could get someone better he was happy she still wanted to be with him and didn't mind giving him the reassurance he sometimes needed. Y/N on the other hand already planned to devote her heart to him for the rest of her life and make it her life goal to prove to him that he was all she ever wanted, needed, and loved.

[toadwarts]

Safe At Last

Two humans in love manage to escape from an abusive home and right into the twisted world of Mother Miranda's village. After fleeing from mutated monsters, they meet with The Duke, who offers them board and food in exchange for their work. It is their first night in his caravan, and they discover that they may have another person to add to their romance...

Fluffy and flirtatious, this is a self indulgent and simple fic about The Duke and polyamory. It is written first person, but made so you can also insert yourself into the narrative if you so please.

Read on A03 or Fanfiction! Or you can read here, below the Read More!

I stared down at my empty bowl, reveling in the warm feeling of a full stomach. The Duke’s cooking was more than high quality--it was incredible. It had been a long, long time since either I or my partner had a meal with high quality ingredients, and not something wilted, slightly green and fuzzy at the edges, or simply scraps from someone else’s meal. 

I looked over at my partner, a calm feeling unfolding in my chest. They looked right at home here in the back of The Duke’s caravan, surrounded by the wealthy man’s various wares. A content, dazed expression was fitted on their hard features, and when they met your eyes their own lit up. 

“Did you like your meal?” They asked, smiling as they nodded to my bowl. It was clearly a tease, since I had all but licked it clean. 

“I don’t know, did you?” I laughed, playfully knocking into their shoulder with my own.

“Yeah, I think I could eat this food forever!” They said, patting their stomach and leaning back on the elegant couch we were sitting on.  “Plus, it doesn’t seem like the vampires or lycans come anywhere near here.” Their gaze flitted up to the garlic hanging overhead, then back to me. “Do you feel safe here?” 

I paused. Before we had run away to find the village, my partner and I...had not had the best of lives. Trapped beneath my mother’s thumb for years into adulthood, we lived in a less than sterile and a more than hostile environment. It felt as if the trauma was as much a part of me as the bones beneath my skin. 

Then of course, the village...was not as dream-like as we had hoped. We had narrowly escaped a group of lycan like creatures before stumbling upon the Duke’s caravan. He had offered us a place to stay and some food to eat in the back of his wagon in exchange for work--seeking out wares, cleaning, and just a little bit of heavy lifting. It was our first evening here and so far… It seemed too good to be true. 

“I do feel safe.” I finally said, swallowing down the hard lump in my throat. “But that’s what scares me.” 

They leaned back, sighing heavily. “I know how you feel. It makes me wary, but...what choice do we have?” 

“He does seem nice.” I nodded in agreement. “Even if he is very interested in his stock.” 

My partner laughed, their hand encircling mine as they pulled me close. “It’ll be okay. Maybe this is what we’ve been looking for! He did say he travels...so who knows where we might end up?” 

“I don’t mind as long as it’s far, far away from there.” I whispered, suddenly choked up. I couldn’t believe we were really gone. That we were in this immaculate, clean and beautiful oversized wagon, with an immaculate, clean and...admittedly, beautiful oversized man. A kind man. We would never have to go back to that evil place ever again. 

“Never again.” They whispered, pulling me close and planting a kiss upon my forehead. “I love you, dearest.” 

“And I love you.” I returned, nuzzling into the crook between their neck and shoulder. 

The back of the caravan swung open then, letting the fading light of dusk in. “Well, well, how are we doing back here, little ones?” The Duke stood before us, leaning on an ornate cane to support his heft. He was a massive man, both in height and girth, immaculately groomed and dressed to the nines. He was the finest gentleman either of us had ever seen for sure, and we felt lucky to have been found by him. 

“We’re okay,” I said shyly, standing up. “The meal was absolutely perfect. Thank you so much!”

“Of course, of course!” The Duke smiled broadly. “I quite enjoy cooking, so if there’s anything in particular you have a craving for, just let me know. All I’ll need is assistance procuring ingredients, but that should be no trouble at all.” He heaved himself up the steps to the caravan, ducking through the doorway and coming inside. He had quite the mighty presence indeed, radiating a quiet elegance and strength despite his jovial tone and quaint attitude. 

“Is there anything you need us to do tonight?” I asked as my partner took our bowls. My feet ached terribly from running so much , and I shifted a little from side to side. Like The Duke, I was also fat, and unaccustomed to the sort of travel and fleeing we had been facing in the days prior. I yearned to sit back down, but my politeness won me over. 

“No dear, not tonight.” The Duke said. “You two just rest after everything you’ve been through. Tomorrow is an early day though, so do be prepared!” He walked over to the couch, settling down with a sigh. “I have some stock for Castle Dimitrescu, so we will be heading there.” 

“Castle Dimitrescu?” My partner said, dubious. “I heard...less than good things about that place. I’ve already dealt with enough vampire hags!” 

The Duke laughed heartily, as if my dear one had said quite the funny joke. “No need to fret! I have a truce with all of Castle Dimitrescu, as well as the other Lords you have heard about, so there is nothing to fear since you are now being employed by me. You simply have to look pretty and do a good job of peddling my wares.” He winked, leaning back. 

My partner blushed, and so did I. The Duke was also a rather straightforward man. 

I kept shifting from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable but doing my best to not to show weakness. Before, weakness had gotten me beatings and beratings. Though The Duke seemed benevolent, I had no desire to discover if he had a dark side. 

“Are you alright, little one?” He asked, eying me up and down. “Feet hurting? After a long day, I certainly know how that feels. But you’ve had many long days, yes?” 

I grimaced. “Ah… Yes. They are, a bit.” I flushed with embarrassment. 

The Duke leaned forward. “Why not have a seat, my dear?” His face crinkled with concern. “No reason to cause further harm to yourself. Rest easy now.” 

I began to lower myself to the floor, but jumped back up when the large man’s jarring laugh rang throughout the back of the wagon. “W-What?” I said, flustered. My partner was then protectively at my side, their hand at the small of my back. 

“You don’t need to sit on the floor! While it is certainly a nice one, that will only hurt your back.” The Duke said. 

“But...there’s no where else to sit.” I looked around. Duke took up the couch we had been sitting on, and there was really nowhere else to go but the floor now, unless we went to The Duke’s bed further in the caravan. The thought made me flush. 

“You can sit right here, I don’t mind.” The Duke patted his sides. His ample belly and the arms of the couch made for a makeshift seat for sure. “And you too,” He said, pointing to my partner. “I know you, the strong type--never wanting to rest, always pushing yourself for everyone else. Come, be comfortable, and let’s chat.” 

I looked up at my partner, face red as a bushel of roses. I was delighted to see that they were too. It was rare that I saw my partner this flustered, and it made butterflies dance in my stomach. 

“Are you comfortable with that?” They asked me, squeezing my hand, a knowing look in his eyes. We had talked about this sort of thing before, but nothing had ever come to reality. 

I nodded, feeling like a storm of wasps was zooming around in my guts. The Duke really was incredibly straightforward, but it didn’t seem as if he had any ulterior motives. He just wanted to offer comfort and good company to both of us--and I guess it was obvious that both my partner and I thought he was pretty cute. 

My partner glided forward, hand still in mine. We stood before The Duke, who had a calm and knowing smile on his face. He offered his hands to each of us, which we shyly but gladly took. We climbed up on either side of him, settling down and reveling in the softness of his sides. We sat there stiffly for a moment, feeling completely out of our leagues. 

The Duke chuckled gently, his strong arms coming ‘round to encircle us. I felt myself go stiff when his hand brushed against my back, the cool metal of his rings soothing as he placed his hand there. “Is this alright?” He asked both of us coolly, looking from my partner to me. I nodded, locking eyes with my partner as he nodded too. 

My partner was long and thin, a wonderful contrast when sidled up next to the massive Duke. I was short and fat, but even I felt swallowed up by The Duke’s own plush body. He felt like the world’s comfiest...well, not human exactly, but something.

“Good, good. Last thing I want is to make my newest proteges uncomfortable.” The Duke nodded firmly before beginning to rub soft circles into my back. “Now, try to relax. The two of you deserve it. “ 

I let myself lean into The Duke, resting my head atop his pillowy chest. I relaxed into his side with a soft sigh, relinquishing myself to his soothing touch. 

“Protege?” My partner asked, their tone light. “Since when were we your proteges rather than just employees?” 

“I don’t let just anyone handle my wares!” The Duke announced with a chuckle. “I could tell there was something special about the two of you. I’ve heard of the sensation of le coup de foudre.” 

“Love at first sight.” My partner said coyly. “You don’t play around, do you?” They slid an arm over The Duke’s soft belly, reaching for my hand. Tenderly, I reached my own arm forward, taking their hand in mine in an embrace that came as easy as breathing to me. The feeling of my partner’s fingers squeezing mine atop the pillowy expanse of Duke’s midsection was heaven. 

“Oh no, not when there’s sales to be made!” The Duke laughed brightly. “And new friends to make. Perhaps more?” 

I reveled in The Duke’s scent--rich cologne intermingled with the faint touch of expensive cigar smoke. I looked into my partner’s eyes, bright as the sun itself. I let myself relax even more, cuddling up to The Duke and relinquishing myself to comfort. I was finally free, ready to face the world with the love of my life, and we had both run right into the arms of someone else with plenty of love to give. The future was surely ripe with possibilities.

Both of them smiled down at me, and I felt...safe. 

Safe at last. 

[prose-for-hire]

Claimed

Part One // Part Two

Pairing: Angel x vamp!reader

Request: as promised I'd like to request a part 3 to So wrong it’s right/Natural attraction

[Desc: Third part. An old friend of Angel’s comes to town and makes him wonder where your affection truly lies]

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Swearing. Implied sex/sex reference. Biting. Blood. A little violence.

You let me handle the plot so, as always, things got carried away. The timeframe moving from the previous part is either a while later or diverges a little from the show depending on where your imagination wants to take you. 🖤💖

You were slumped on the sofa in front of yet another re-run. So, incredibly bored. As if the lack of his presence had made life unbearably boring. When he was around he made you feel alive. Made you excited - as if you wanted to be someone he could hold affection for.

But all of this embarrassing hope had been dashed. You hadn’t seen him in so long, you only had the delicious memories of your last stolen moments with him.

But without him, the colour had been sucked out of the world again. It was so bleak that you were stuck inside moping over him hopelessly. God, when had you gotten this way?

It had been too long. You missed him so badly you ached. Yearned in this guilty way to be even just in his presence. This wasn’t just lust anymore. The excitement of sex or trading blows with him. Somewhere inside you knew that it was all of him that you wanted. Craved.

Mind, body and even that stupid soul of his.

He had crawled into your dead heart. Made a home there. Leaving you suddenly full of life. Wanting to be more. It still irritated you, at how much influence he now held over you. But you couldn’t fight it. Didn’t want to anymore.

But he had been away recently. Dropped you as soon as he heard some Slayer was in trouble. He had been away in some ugly little town called Sunnydale. She needed his help. You soon learned from Angel’s team this Slayer was his ex. 

You dropped in on them every so often now to check in when you were bored and thought you might as well help them save the world or whatever. You were fun to be around, you didn’t hold back and they couldn’t help but like your company. So you stuck around them, enjoying the feeling of having something close to a group of friends. 

It was new to you, but you secretly enjoyed it. You spent a lot of time sharing your knowledge and trying to make their lives easier. Something you wouldn’t have even considered doing. Not before him.

But he had left you sorely lacking ever since he skipped town without so much as a word. You had really hoped that he might tell you himself, not get Wes to pass on some vague message about his ‘weekend plans’. 

The television buzzed soullessly as you stared through it. The only vision you wanted to see being him. And you were just sat there. Not even having the heart (or the attention span) to open a book. All you could think of was him. You were so bored. You were even considering masturbating for the millionth time to distract you from the way you needed him.

You started to move as if to do just that, when there was a massive thud at the door. Someone was knocking pretty urgently.

Shit. Debt collectors. You owed a lot of people a lot of kittens. You muted the tv and stumbled over your feet in the opposite direction from the door. You decided for everyone’s sake it would be better if you disappeared. Pretended not to be in.

You were almost panicking a little, not really sure if you had the mental or physical strength at the moment to take on a fight. So you did something too embarrassing to even describe properly. You rolled under your bed. Hid.

After some more urgent knocking, whoever it was got bored of waiting and just kicked the door in. As you had been expecting. You were hoping whoever it was looking for you was either too stupid to check under the bed for you or thought better of you than to even consider looking there.

The door was broken clean off its hinges. And you stayed still. Hearing two pairs of footprints stomping through your home. You were considering sliding out the window and onto the ledge while they looked around your living room. But then you heard something.

“Y/n?” His voice sounded urgent. Your chest swelled at the sound of his voice. Angel.

You rolled your eyes though. At what you were doing. God this was embarrassing. It was either stay hidden and risk not getting to see him or admit you had just hidden under a bed like some soon-to-be-dead loser in a shitty horror flick.

You decided you would just have to bear it. You rolled from under the best giving him the best scowl you could muster (you couldn’t help smiling a little at seeing him again).

He had the decency not to say anything about you rolling out from under the bed, although he had to hold back a small smile about it. He would tease you later, he was sure. Hopefully if there was a later he thought to himself.

“Funny how a weekend trip can last the full fourteen days now, isn’t it?” You hinted. You had missed him. You wanted him. He had left you longing.

“Look, it’s a Hellmouth stuff happened-”

“Too bloody right-” Someone else spoke up but you cut the stranger off. You hadn’t noticed him at first, your eyes only on Angel.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Look, he’s-”

“And why the fuck is he just stalking through my house like he owns it?” You snapped, snatching a rare book of yours back from his hands.

The pair shared a look at your outburst as if you were the unreasonable one. You smelled it then. They both had souls. You eyed them both, not sure how you had found yourself the only sane, normal vampire in a thirty-mile radius.

“Name’s Spike” he offered and you squinted, recognising the name.

“Oh. Old flame right? Did you go through every ex’s town on your way back from Sunnydale or just the ones you thought were attractive enough to make me jealous?”

“Spike is not an old-”

“One time! It was one-!”

“Well, that hit a nerve” You muttered, rolling your eyes. Great. You had more competition for Angel’s affection. And God, did you want all of his affection laid on you. You wanted him so badly that it almost made you throb with need just from this brief interaction.

You were just staring now as he spoke. The way his eyes glistened in the dim light. His features chiselled as if made just for you. He made you feel things you weren’t sure you could even name. Some long-forgotten emotion that made your chest swell and your stomach feel like there were baby bats in there.

“I thought you said they were a help. Fat lot of good this one is considering their fourth wank of the day in front of bloody Time Team” You snapped out of your Angel-induced daze to scowl once again at the blonde man and his, unfortunately, accurate depiction of the way you were currently living.

They turned conversation quickly to try to convince you that you were needed. There was yet another plot to take over LA. Someone had informed them on the Hellmouth. To reverse it, they needed three vampires, ones that have enough good in them. No human could stand the pain of it. Angel insisted the third one is you. 

He had faith in you. In some way, it made you fill with pride. But, again, this wasn’t your life. You had never wanted to save the world. He mentioned that there was a ritual you could do to check, to at least prove him right and to begin the reversal of this apocalypse was needed.

“And tell me again why I would want to go through all that pain rather than, say, relocate?” You muttered, already knowing you would agree. For him.

“Y’know... because you’re good now, right?” Even as he said it, Angel knew these were the wrong words to use. You scoffed at him. You had never claimed this. You just liked the company of the team. Enjoyed a good fight. Enjoyed… the proximity with him.

“I’m okay, thanks. Don’t care. Sorry. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out”

“Listen here, pet-” The other vampire appealed to you. Which was also the wrong move.

“Why is this Billy Idol impersonator talking to me? Is it a joke I’m too cool to understand?”

“Oi- look here-”

You didn’t speak this time, you just went to punch the man in the face. But Angel caught you before either of you reacted. Wrapped a strong hand around your wrist. Kept it there.

His grip tightening in a way that made you smirk. You had missed this. God, you had really missed this. He lowered your hand, his still firmly grasping your wrist. And you just stared at him as he did. Hoping he would lean in and catch your lips again. Tear the fabric of the walls apart just with a look.

“Enough” He warned. Touch lingering as his eyes did on your form.

You would let him wreck the house if you thought it meant you could have him pressed against you again even for a second. He was dangerous to you and you loved it. He, on the other hand was still more cautious of the way you navigated your relationship. Of how he showed just what you meant to him.

He thought about you all the time. More so, while he was away. He was addicted to you. The way you moved, spoke. Held yourself. Had such entrenched opinions and he might even deign to say morals (loosely, of course).

He thought more of you than he had ever done before. Dreamt about you. Thought about what you could be doing, wanting to know what you were thinking. What made you tick. He held on to every intimate detail he could discover.

Remembered it in such crystal clarity. Because it was you.

He decided to get you on side, he would appeal to the more logical side of you. Which, surprisingly, worked. He managed to convince you to put your un-life on the line. Because it would help your new sort-of friends. To save Fred and the others, you could try it.

You finally relented. You almost didn’t so soon, hoping that he might descend to fighting you over it. Some contact with your skin. It was needed after so long. You nodded though and they nodded and you started for the door. Stepping over it as you left.

“What a bloody delight” Spike murmured so that you could hear it.

“Can it, Blondie” You hissed as you strode behind them, your usual confidence evident to all around.

Angel side-glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips at seeing you again. Even if all of your barbs were being thrown Spike’s way. It was so good to see you.

Angel had never been so sure that he wanted you around. Permanently. He just wasn’t entirely sure how to admit this. To himself or you. You always left him wanting more. That demon part of you matched his. The demons had claimed the other long before either of you had embraced how you felt. 

Neither of you had dared ask the other how they felt. What they wanted from this relationship. It may shatter the illusion you both had. That there could be a future there. That at least some of your eternity could be theirs.

You were staring blankly at a carved tablet, one that Wesley had found in connection with this stupid apocalypse you had been roped into stopping. You weren’t really reading, just skimming it. You’d catch up later, you always did. Right now, you were thinking about Angel. He was all you were ever thinking about at the moment.

“What’s that? Picture book?” A British accent asked. Spike.

“No” you said shortly. God, he was dumber than a bag of rocks. What had Angel ever seen in him? He rubbed you up the wrong way. And not in an exciting way either.

Wesley explained what it was as you had a rant in your head, just staring at the tablet.

“All that eternity and you can’t even read. What exactly do you do?” You couldn’t help it. It slipped out. He was a fly you wanted to swat away. Squish into nothingness. 

You glowered at him, but knew there was some big stupid prophecy so Spike had to stick around. You did what the powers wanted just enough to save your own skin. And, well, if you staked him God forbid, they tried to make you a champion in his place.

Angel frowned at your words. He wanted you to be talking to him. Ragging on him at how he couldn’t read them either. Wanted the charged tension that always stretched between you back. But since he had returned you had appeared more distant. Less smug about the way you rendered him simultaneously infuriated and obsessed with you.

You were laughing with the team when Spike stalked in after calling up his precious Slayer and talking loud enough to wake the dead. Or, at least wake Angel who had been trying to sleep. Instead he had joined you and the rest of the team. Your face had lit up when Angel entered the room but he hadn’t noticed. Or, you thought he hadn’t anyway.

The laughter died when he entered and he scowled. Spike had enough of you. How nobody appeared to accept him but even with your ‘evil’ nature and lack of soul these people embraced you with open arms.

“Why’s every bugger hangin’ on their every word? Hello, I’m the one with the bloody soul here”

“Because nobody likes you Spike” Angel shrugged from the doorway.

“Yeah, because having a soul makes you suddenly likeable and some all-encompassing good right? You’re kidding yourself - choices are what make us not writhing around in the sand with some dumb demon for a couple months”

Everyone had braced themselves, expecting your usual rant about not having a soul not meaning anything. That you could make good decisions. You could do what you wanted and still not be evil. But you had decided to just make a cheap shot.

“Piss off. Like you could stand it anyway”

Angel had been watching with a frown. Didn’t like the way you gave Spike such attention. He thought it was the way you used to give him attention before you began to deepen your relationship. 

He wanted you to be focusing on him. Only him. He missed you. In his bed. The way you looked contorted in pleasure. His.

When he thought about it, truly thought about it, he missed talking to you. The way you could make him laugh. Speak to him the way nobody else could. You embraced every side of him. Even the parts that he struggled to embrace himself.

He found himself almost needing that interaction. Needing you. Desperately. Not just your body but your mind too. All of you in fact. He ached for it, quivered with need. He didn’t care you lacked your soul anymore, he just needed you. Thirsted for every side of you.

You kept glancing at each other. You weren’t his partner but he really wanted you to be. He was finally able to admit it to himself. He just didn’t know how to ask. How to tell you what he wanted. He wanted it just you and him. Not to have to smell any of the particularly nasty lingering scents of lovers you had taken since he had been away.

Angel kept making snide comments about Buffy and Spike at any opportunity. This always made you scowl because he seemed so bothered by them. Spike smirked smugly. Which made you scowl even further. It was mostly to distract himself from his feelings from you. But you didn’t know this. You wanted his mind to be on you again. He hadn’t even pulled you aside during any slow moments like he usually would.

On a particularly boring day, while they were taking a break from the research that was making everyone have a headache (except you and Wesley), talk turned to Spike’s new soul. And why he had fought for one. For this Slayer.

“I think it’s romantic!” Fred cooed as you caught on to what had happened.

“For love? You got a soul for love?! That’s so cute, did it come with a complimentary heart shaped box? A dozen roses?” You cackled and Spike looked like he was about to thump you. Pretty ruthlessly too. But Angel pulled you away before he could. Apparently he was the only one allowed to berate Spike.

He took you by the shoulder and pressed you against the wall in the corridor once you were alone. You smirked, face lighting up expecting his lips on yours. Just like the last time you had been close in this way. But he just half-heartedly chastised you instead.

“Cool it off” he warned. You were disappointed with his tone, you missed the way he would excite you. Mix with anger and passion the way you had missed so badly.

“Why? Because it makes you uncomfortable? It’s foreplay for us. You know it, I know it” You plucked the nerve just to see what would happen. Making his blood boil. You saw it then. That hint of jealousy. This flicker of the demon side of him, he wanted to claim you as his.

“Whatever. Do anything you want after the case, just not here” He consciously tried to even his voice this time, hide the growl. But his chest rumbled dangerously at even the thought of you and Spike. He was clinging to his human form as the demon protested.

This is what made you tug on the nerve, near severing it. You leaned into him, so that your lips brushed his ear. Your tone seductive, one he would usually enjoy.

“Don’t be jealous, baby, I’m very good at sharing myself out. Especially while you were away-”

You were cut off by his hands tightly gripping your shoulders. Even as a vampire, you were sure you would bruise. Your stomach flipped at the fire behind his eyes. The need for you to not stray from him. He slammed you back against the door you had just left out of, near shattering the glass behind you. God, you had missed this. So badly.

You couldn’t help smirking. You were ready to take him right here. Fucking or fighting. Either one would do it for you. So long as you received his full attention. Just you and him.

He had come back so disaffected. His face mostly neutral. You thought he had barely looked at you, let alone touched you. Even in this way. You would take what you could get and savour every second of it.

You didn’t realise just how hard it was for him to be back in Sunnydale or all of the baggage he had left there (some of it that he had had to bring back as well). Dredging up his past had confirmed something to him. That he wanted you with him. Wanted you to be his. He wanted something more than what you were already doing. It scared him. Made him nervous, which is why he had kept a distance from you.

Even though it guilted him that this was selfish and something that would make him happy. Even though you were rough around the edges and morally dubious. Even though you had never expressed softer feelings of your own.

You meant something. Everything. And he couldn’t deny it now. Couldn’t begin to fight it anymore. He didn’t want to.

That was why he didn’t like you interacting with Spike. Because he felt this so strongly. That you belonged with him. Not with anybody else. But you had never labelled your relationship and he didn’t know how to even begin to tell you.

“If you’re not gonna do anything about it, let me go” You warned. Hoping he would do the opposite. He gripped tighter for a moment and you got excited but then he just let you go.

Disappointment washed over you and you frowned. You had so wanted to taste him on your tongue again. To have his body, hot with desire, pounding against yours.

As time went on, Angel began to get more and more jealous watching you and Spike interact. You began to notice it more. The way his furrow deepened whenever you glared holes in the man. Mistaking the interaction for something that excited you.

But he didn’t say anything. Barely looked at you. Which left you so sore. So needy for him.

So, you took it into your own hands. Of course, you didn’t actually speak to him about it. Oh, no. Instead, you dialled it up. Speaking to Spike much more. Making Angel so jealous he would shake. Aiming to make him want you more.

The ritual couldn’t be conducted for a few months yet, just before the steps to the scheduled apocalypse had begun. So there was a lot of waiting around and planning. However, your mind was less on that and more on how to get Angel to touch you again.

You had an idea. You gestured with your head to get the blonde vampire to come over and speak to you. The vampire was hung up on the slayer and you were hung up on Angel so neither of you had any particular interest in the other.

“Look I don’t like you, you don’t like me. But you wanna annoy Angel right?” You offered, giving him a knowing look. You weren’t stupid, Spike had an obvious and complicated past with your- the man.

“I’m listening” He squinted. And you didn’t waste any time, you whispered in his ear your suggestion.

Along with your obvious intelligence, you could be very persuasive. Near manipulative (it was how you had survived this long and gotten yourself out of many, many debts).

So, the next day you swung your plan straight into action. It wasn’t a particularly clever plan. But it was enough for you and Spike to know it could end badly wrong. Like, dust on the floor wrong should Angel be in a particularly bad mood.

You and Spike turned up to the building with his arm slung around your shoulder. You had asked to wear his jacket but he told you to sod off. So, you compromised and had him sling his arm over your shoulder told him to whisper something. Anything. Encouraging him to be as crude as possible. Implying that you had spent the previous night together.

You were speaking to the room but your eyes were on Angel the entire time. Watching the way his thoughts began to spin out of control behind his eyes. He was shaking with anger. Filling with pure jealousy. The way Spike was allowed so close to you. How he pressed against you the way he should be pressed against you. Natural touch that should be his.

He couldn’t just stand there. Watching. He just walked up to you, snatching your hand in his and dragged you from the room. If he didn’t he would have exploded then and there.

“Problem?” You asked, that infuriating tone you always used. He just directed you by the back of your head to move your ear next to his mouth.

“You’re mine” he growled and you couldn’t help the way your stomach flipped in excitement. Made you weak for him. Your eyes lit up. But you wouldn’t let him see you submit that easily.

“Prove it” You challenged. And he did just that. He pulled you into him, crashing his lips to yours. The rough embrace made your heart soar with happiness. He wanted you. He really wanted you.

As you made your way to the bed you stopped in your passion every now and again on the way. Slamming you into the walls, more furniture lost to your desire. You pushed him back onto the bed smirking down at him. He reached for you and pulled you down against him.

Lips crashing. Hands grasping. Skin slapping.

He claimed you as his. The feeling, it was shared. His eyes telling you that he was yours. He clutched you, while you grinded against his body. He made you feel alive. It was primal. This animal attraction never ceased. But this connection was deeper than anything either of you could name.

Your demon forms shifted, facing each other again. As they always did when you were together. They had missed their equal so desperately. You moved with him. As if you were one. He bit down hard, fangs embedded in your neck. You moaned in his ear and it made him bite harder still. 

Your blood tasted so good in his mouth. He hadn’t done this in so long. Hadn’t trusted anyone this way. This bond, it ran deep.

You directed his head further into you as he did this, grasping at the hair on the nape of his neck. It was pure pleasure.  Blood oozed down your chest as his mouth moved from the bite on the side of your neck. He pressed some open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, following the trail of your blood. He licked slowly up it, catching every drop. His eyes bored into yours. Telling you what you already knew. You were made for him.

He pressed further into you, with a urgency that matched yours. He was finally embracing his demon. The way you had hoped he would for so long. You wanted all of him. To do this, you would have to give all of yourself. So, you did.

You stayed in bed together a lot longer than you usually might. You were just lying in bed together. You were on a slant, the bed had been lost to your passion. Frame splintering and collapsing. He would have to replace it. You were leaning on your side facing him. God, you had missed this. He had left you aching, empty without him.

He hadn’t so much as implied wanting to touch you like this since he had returned from Sunnydale. Just spent his time squabbling with Spike. So, this had been a needed release. Building up over so long.

“I missed this” You admitted, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Yeah?” He asked and you just nodded your reply. He found himself reaching for you, stroking your bare skin. You met his eyes, this tender touch he had never afforded to you before. It was alien but you wanted more of it.

��It was hard. Bein’ back there” He said slowly, referring to Sunnydale, “Seeing them both. Together as well, it hurt. Didn’t know what to do about it”

“Still hung up on them then?” You sighed, looking at a pull in the cotton. Twisting it in your fingers for something to do. Anything to distract from the way you had begun to hurt at the thought of him not feeling the same way as you did.

He shook his head but you didn’t see it. His hand stroking down your arm and resting on your hand. It was the most tender he had ever been. Action a lot subtle that you had ever shared. You found yourself wanting more of it.

“No. ‘Cause when I saw you again I, uh knew… knew that I’d rather be with you than anywhere else” He said slowly. He said it awkwardly, the words strung together as if they didn’t quite fit next to each other. But he meant it. He wasn’t sure if he had ever meant anything as much before in his entire life.

You didn’t know what to say to this so you just nodded. It was the best he could have hoped for. When you weren’t teasing, it was hard to reveal how you felt. You laughed though, mentioning you didn’t even like Spike anyway. You had just wanted him to pay you more attention again.

You then muttered something about not knowing what Angel had ever seen in him. Angel gave you a look but you didn’t get it (he felt that it was because you and Spike were too similar, that’s why you didn’t get on). Thankfully, he liked you a lot better than he liked Spike though.

You smiled at each other, both of you feeling even slightly more secure. You hadn’t been able to admit that you wanted to be exclusive, but you had both now implied it. Which was the best either of you could wish. You found yourself almost wanting to be his, the way he had hissed it in your ear. You couldn’t recall feeling that way before.

There it was again. That feeling that frightened you. Hope. It had crawled into your heart and only spread the longer you spent with him. An ugly thought popped into your head. One that embarrassed you immensely.

As you watched his face turn into that small smile beside you in bed. Understanding stretching between you. A glimmering hope that still frightened you more than anything else ever had. His jealousy still a delicious taste in your mouth. The wreckage of the room surrounded you but the atmosphere was almost... soft.

It was a thought he had already had himself and started to accept. You shuddered as you thought it though. Finding that maybe you truly had found your anti-soulmate. In Angel of all people.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

In My Dreams Tonight

for @chaotic-bard who asked me for some fluff!

have a soulmates that dream about each other au featuring both a modern au and the canon universe!

brought to you by “Dreams Tonite” by Alvvays

---

“You’re nothing but trouble, bard,” the tall man glared from atop his horse. He always seemed to be glaring or glowering or huffing, the man in Jaskier’s dreams. The familiar stranger wore his long white hair pulled halfway back and he had golden eyes, the pupils of which were slit up the center like a cat’s. His name, Jaskier had learned after the third straight week of seeing him every night, was Geralt of Rivia. A Witcher, apparently, whose job it was to hunt down monsters.

“Ah, but what a lovely piece of trouble I am!” Jaskier replies. And he’s rather sassy himself in these dreams. Far more clever and ready to fight than he is when he’s awake. “You would miss me if I left, wouldn’t you, Geralt?”

“Hmm.”

The stranger hums a lot. He glares and he hums. Jaskier’s heart stutters frightfully in his chest whenever the man smiles, though. The sight is rare. Geralt has smiled perhaps three times in the past two months.

“Where are we going today?”

“Werewolf outside of town. You’re staying at the inn, where I know you can’t get into… nevermind. You can get into trouble anywhere.”

There’s a lightly teasing tone to the stranger’s voice that Jaskier hasn’t really heard before. He likes it. He craves more of it. He tosses and turns in his sleep, his skin damp with sweat. The dream goes on.

“Geralt, please,” he whines, “I can’t write ballads about monsters I haven’t seen! Or fights I did not attend! That’s lying to my audience, Geralt, and I simply won’t do it. I must go with you.”

“Drop it, Jaskier,” the man snarls. Jaskier feels sad. Incredibly sad.

Rejected?

“Gera-”

“I said drop it, bard.”

Jaskier wakes up feeling a little heartbroken and he yearns to be held. His pillow holds the fading scents of leather and wood-smoke. The sight of a pine sapling at the dog park makes him tear up.

He starts to wear the color yellow out of nowhere and his taste in jewelry switches from gold to silver. 

When his best friend asks him about the recent changes, he cannot answer.

---

Geralt pours himself a mug of tea and shakes his hair out of his face. He’s been having odd dreams lately, things that feel familiar but manage to stay just out of his conscious grasp. Someone important is waiting for him. Someone he love and cares about and needs. 

Geralt doesn’t really buy into the concept of soulmates, but he does understand instinct. He knows to trust his gut. He knows to listen and start paying attention when the same haunting blue eyes creep into his dreams every night for six months, plaguing him in the waking hours by refusing to give up their owners’ identity. 

He wipes a hand down his face and sighs loudly into the otherwise empty studio apartment. “Fuck me, I gotta figure this shit out. I gotta talk to Yen.”

Talking to himself has always helped him calm down. He does it again, just to hear his own low voice scraping through the silence. 

“I gotta see what’s going on with my head. These dreams are… getting to be a bit much, even for me.”

He nods to no one in particular and goes to text his best friend and coworker.

---

Jaskier hops off the bus and carries his guitar case down to the coffee shop on the corner. Finally, he’s managed to get a gig that wasn’t through the university.

He sets up his stuff in the tiny alcove the shop treats as a stage and watches as a few customers stroll around near the counter, waiting for their drinks or reading through the menu, hovering just far away enough from the line to keep others from growing confused.

He loves people watching. 

Once everything is ready to go and the light outside the window has dimmed a bit, indicating early evening has finally arrived, he pulls his guitar onto his lap and strums through a few quick chords.

“Rode here on the bus,

Now you're one of us.

It was magic hour,

Counting motorbikes on the turnpike;

One of Eisenhower's.”

 “Live your life on a merry-go-round;

Who starts a fire just to let it go out?”

He watches a particularly handsome man with broad shoulders and a vintage denim jacket approach the counter. Jaskier adds a haunting, well-practiced lilt to his voice as he goes into the chorus, hoping to get his attention:

“If I saw you on the street,

Would I have you in my dreams tonight?

If I saw you on the street,

Would I have you in my dreams tonight, tonight?”

An equally beautiful woman with long, curly black hair approaches the denim-clad angel and whisks him towards a table nearby. She settles with her back to Jaskier, leaving him with a decent view of the man’s sharp, lightly stubbled jaw, glittering eyes, and severe white ponytail. He’s gorgeous.

He’s also uncomfortably familiar.

Jaskier continues to perform, trying to identify his attractive mystery man the whole time and failing miserably.

---

“He’s everywhere, Yen. I feel like I could identify him by scent if I got close enough. I can’t remember his name, though. Or the color of his hair. I don’t know his face, only his eyes. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Have you talked to Dr. deStael about it?”

“Yeah, but she said this kind of thing is normal. Recurring dreams often help us sort out our trauma or something like that. I don’t know. I don’t feel traumatized by this guy I feel… protective of him. Maybe even like I love him?”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, that’s my line.”

“Shut up for a minute, this live music actually slaps and I want to listen to it. Then we can discuss your weird possessive tendencies towards your dream boyfriend.”

Geralt takes a slow sip of his coffee and glances up at the singer off to their left, perched on a barstool with his guitar held carefully on his lap. His voice is soft but somehow bright. Geralt finds himself utterly entranced.

“On the weird guitar;

Said you'd go to work

In the waking hour.

In fluorescent light,

Antisocialites watch a wilting flower.”

 “Live your life on a merry-go-round;

Who builds a wall just to let it fall down?”

The lyrics are strange and hold a dream-like quality to them. They draw a picture in Geralt’s head, something dark and heavy and oddly hollow. He has another sip of coffee and tries to ignore the feeling of panic welling up inside him. He glances at Yennefer to see if she’s picked up on his mood, but her violet eyes are focused on the singer and his nimble fingers as he continues to play and sing.

When he glances up towards their table and their eyes meet, Geralt loses the ability to breathe.

That shade of cornflower blue was…

Couldn’t be…

Had to be…

The gorgeous, feathery tenor continues to fill the air, whirling pleasant notes past his ears and deep into his subconscious. Geralt knows that voice. He’s heard this man laugh and sing and cry and scream a thousand different times. Through a handful of different lives. Geralt knows that face, those hands, those strong legs and long arms and blue fucking eyes. He’s held this singer in his arms every night for centuries, feeling his breathing as they both drift off to sleep.

He has protected this man and been protected by him in return. He has kissed and been kissed, caressed and been caressed. The two men sitting across from each other in the coffee shop physically embody an endless cycle of love. It has been bound up in the souls of two no-longer strangers. Geralt knows that he knows this man. 

He knows Jaskier.

Petal pink lips continue to form soft words and slender hands keep plucking at vibrating guitar strings:

“Don't sit by the phone for me,

Wait at home for me, all alone for me.

Your face was supposed to be

Hanging over me, like a rosary.”

Geralt stands suddenly, startling Yennefer but not the performer, even though he’s clearly just as shocked as Geralt about this recent development.

Their mutual realization.

“So morose for me,

Seeing ghosts of me,

Writing oaths to me,

Is it so naïve to wonder…”

Geralt crosses the room to the edge of the stage in three quick strides. Yennefer is close behind him, her latte just as abandoned as his coffee at their table. She grabs her friend’s arm as if to stop him from doing something violent, but when he doesn’t struggle against her grip she lets it go again easily. 

“Geralt?” the musician asks.

“Jaskier?” Geralt replies. The guitar is placed quickly to the side and a pair of incredibly familiar arms are thrown around the taller man’s neck. Geralt hugs back just as firmly, his arms flung low around the brunette’s waist. Geralt knows that this is Jaskier’s favorite way to be embraced; he doesn’t know how he’s aware of that fact, but it comes to the front of his mind clear as day. 

“Holy shit,” Jaskier breathes, leaning back to stare Geralt in the face. One of his string-calloused fingers traces down over Geralt’s eyelid and cheek and he cocks his head to the side. “No scar?”

“No,” Geralt shakes his head. “Not this lifetime, I guess.”

“Were we? Are we- are we, you know...?”

“Yeah,” Yen beams, adding her two cents from the sidelines. “I think so. Congrats, boys. This is one of those one in a million chances and you’ve gone and done it.”

“Done what?” Geralt asks. Jaskier tosses his head back and laughs. His happiness rings out through the cafe like a struck bell and Geralt’s heart stutters frantically. He really does love this man already. Wholeheartedly and without fear. “What have we done, Yen?”

“As obtuse now as you were then,” Jaskier chides affectionately. “Soulmates, my love. We’ve been bound by the red string of fate and ta-da! Here we are. Again, apparently.”

“Yes, okay,” Geralt breathes, nosing his way along Jaskier’s jaw with giddy determination. He presses a quick and wholly welcome kiss to the bard’s lips. “That makes sense.”

 “Do you... do you want me again? This time around?” Jaskier asks, fingers fiddling with one of the ties on Geralt’s hoodie. A pair of chapped lips press against his again and he sighs into it, melting against his no-longer-Witcher. 

“Yes. And the next one, as well.”

[cherienymphe]

The Babysitter

Warnings: NON-CON, Dark!College!Peter, mentions of abuse/abusive relationships, slight age gap

!!! Please don’t read if any of this offends you !!! 

summary: You are Peter’s first and only love, and all he ever wanted was to show you how much better it could be.

~

Peter Parker was a sweet kid, always had been. Maybe referring to him as a kid was a bit dramatic of you considering you were only four years older than him. But you had met the sweet brown eyed boy when he was in fact a kid. Eleven to be exact.

You recalled the way his eyes had widened up at you when he opened the door, a flush climbing over his cheeks as he nervously stammered. There was a bit of a sparkle in his eyes, a dazed look that made you chuckle. However, that dazed look was gone the minute his aunt informed him that you were there to watch him.

“A babysitter?” he had scoffed, face even redder.

You remembered how he had pouted and complained as you sat your backpack down, but his aunt wouldn’t budge. It had taken him more than an hour to finally leave his room again, reluctantly joining you in the living room.

“Pizza?” you offered him.

He eyed it for a bit before accepting, a pout still on his face. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The both of you just sat on the floor, watching tv and eating pizza as you waited for Ms. Parker, or May as she preferred, to come back.

“I’m too old for a babysitter,” he’d said after some time.

A slow smile crept over your lips, and you nodded in agreement.

“I think so too, but your aunt is just worried about you, is all.”

“I’m not a baby,” he protested, still refusing to look at you.

“Noo, but…what if something happened while you were here alone? What if you got hurt…and no one was around to call her?”

He was quiet for a minute before pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

“She just wants you to be okay, Peter,” you reasoned with him.

“So that’s why you’re here? To protect me?” he questioned, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You swallowed a chuckle but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, Peter. I’m here to look out for you. Just think of me like a guardian…”

“Like a knight,” he suddenly said, nodding.

“Exactly,” you replied, reaching for a piece of pizza.

The two of you didn’t talk much for the rest of the night, but when his aunt came back home, he looked sad to see you go. Many of the nights after went much like that one had, but eventually, he warmed up to the idea more and more.

He always opened the door for you seconds before you could even knock, like he was waiting for you. That flush hardly ever left his face, and you soon became used to the sight of his red visage whenever you were near. The nights you watched him became less quiet and more rowdy.

You’d spend hours arguing over cartoons and other meaningless stuff. It only got worse when he got his first video game, and the competitive side in both of you reared its ugly head. Eventually, you became less of a babysitter and something more like a friend.

He started to talk to you about school and how left out he felt sometimes. You didn’t like nights like those, because they always made you sad. Peter was a sweet kid. He was smart and funny, and you told him that, encouraging him to make friends with people who liked the same things he liked. You knew he was a bit nerdy, but so were you, and you’d been where he was once upon a time.

Time seemed to fly by, and it wasn’t long before your senior year of high school had come. Despite how hectic it was to prepare for graduation and everything, it never interfered with the nights you watched Peter. You supposed that it came at a good time, because he was going to be 14 soon, and May had already mentioned she felt he was long ready to be at home alone. Truth be told, you were surprised you’d held your job for as long as you had, but part of you knew why that was.

It was no secret that Peter had a crush on you. He always looked at you like you hung the moon and was constantly craving your approval on just about everything. He’d done a good job of keeping the heat off of his face whenever you were around, but sometimes it would slip through anyway. You would never embarrass him about it though. It was cute. After all, you could remember some of your own childhood crushes, and maybe one day Peter would look back on it laugh at the crush he’d had on his babysitter.

You’d never considered that it could be anything more. He was just a kid, after all.

“You’ll…you’ll still come see me, right?”

The both of you were sitting on the couch, a large pizza between the two of you. You’d ordered it, feeling nostalgic for the first night you’d come over. Tonight was your last night. You’d be graduating in 3 weeks and off to the local college about a month after that.

You looked at him, feeling your heart clench at the way he wouldn’t meet your eye, just like that first night 3 years ago. You ruffled his hair, and he grumbled, pushing your hand away.

“Of course, I will. I’m only going up the street, Peter,” you said, stuffing your face.

He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes focused on the tv.

“Yeah, but… You’ll make new friends. College friends…and…you’ll meet college guys and stuff,” he mumbled.

You eyed him.

“That may be, but if I’m being honest here, you’re practically my only friend,” you confessed.

He whipped his head around to face you, eyes wide.

“Really?”

You chuckled with a nod.

“Yup! They always told me I wouldn’t leave high school with the same friends I went into it with. I never thought they’d actually be right,” you sulked.

“…but you still have me.”

You grinned at him.

“Yeah, I still have you. Believe me, I am going to still come around because someone has to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

Peter rolled his eyes, tossing his crust back into the box.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “I don’t care what the reason is, as long as you don’t forget about me.”

“How could anyone forget Peter Parker? Don’t be silly,” you laughed.

He didn’t join you, and you looked at him curiously as he suddenly turned his body around to fully face you. You found yourself smiling at how much he’d grown in the past few years. He was going to start high school soon, and that made you feel so old despite the fact that you were only just leaving it.

He eyed you for a few moments, that same spark in his eyes that was there that first night he’d opened the door for you. He clenched his jaw, looking incredibly nervous before he took a deep breath.

“Y/N… Will…will you wait for me?”

You frowned in confusion, leaning your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your hand.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, looking down for a bit before meeting your gaze. His eyes were so serious, much too serious for a 14-year-old kid. Your frown deepened.

“I think that you are so pretty…”

Your heart sank, and you straightened, understanding dawning on you.

“Peter…”

“Not pretty! No, that’s…that’s too lame to describe you. Y/N, I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re so smart and funny and nice. You’re nice to everyone, even our downstairs neighbor who has never once said anything nice to you.”

You sighed, turning to face the tv.

“I know you think I’m just a kid-.”

“Peter, you are a kid.”

“Your 18th birthday was literally just last week,” he deadpanned.

“Shut up!”

“Y/N, please. Please! Just…promise me that you’ll wait for me,” he begged.

You looked at him, a frown on your face as you noticed the tears in his eyes.

“I know I’m just a kid, but eventually I won’t be. One day, I’ll be 18, then 19, 20, 21! One day I can give you everything you want, and I can make you happy and hold your hand-.”

“Peter,” you snapped.

“Y/N… Y/N, please. I love you…,” your stomach churned. “…so much. I know you don’t think anything of it, but I do. I love you, and… Promise me you’ll wait for me, and I’ll show you how much.”

You stared at him, unable to break from his pleading gaze. You had hoped this day would never come. You had hoped that his unspoken crush would remain just that. You’d never wanted to have this conversation, because you didn’t want to break his heart. And despite how much you should have in that moment, you didn’t. You weren’t going to hurt him.

You were sure that his feelings were fleeting, and that in 5 years’ time or so, he’d forget all about this. He’d look back on this moment with embarrassment, and you’d both be able to laugh about it. High school was four years, and a lot happens in those four years. You were positive that he’d move on, and that was the only reason you said;

“Okay.

 ~

“Y/N! Y/N wait!”

You ignored him, picking up your pace as you wiped the tears from your face. You winced as your hand brushed over your cheek, fingers trembling as you reached into your pocket for your keys.

“Y/N, stop!”

He grabbed your arm, harshly, and yanked you to a halt. You cried out, stumbling away from him as you ripped your arm out of his grip. You faced him, eyes hard with anger.

“For what? What could we possibly have to talk about, Chris?” you sarcastically questioned, throwing your hands up.

He glanced around as a few people stumbled out of the house, loud music briefly reaching your ears before it was muffled again. You crossed your arms over your chest as they walked past the two of you, glaring at the dark-haired man before you.

He suddenly sighed, looking a bit conflicted as he bit his lip. He hesitantly reached out towards you, taking a step forward.

“Y/N…it was an accident. I would never-.”

“It wasn’t an accident, and we both know it. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore, Chris. I just can’t,” you replied with a shrug.

He clenched his jaw, eyes darkening a bit as he took in your words.

“What the hell does that mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

“I didn’t think it needed to be said considering not five minutes ago you were slapping me like you were getting paid for it,” you snapped.

He glanced down, eyebrows furrowed.

“I said I was sorry.”

“…and I don’t care. You have a problem with my family, my friends, my clothes, my hair! You’re never satisfied unless I’m doing exactly what you want me to do, and now, I can’t even leave your side for 5 minutes to get a drink without you thinking I ran off to go fuck some random guy?”

He swallowed, and you shook your head at him.

“I’m sorry, okay? I get…I just get insecure sometimes,” was his weak defense.

You scoffed, a tear skipping down your cheek as you eyed him.

“You get insecure? So you hit me? Is that what you’re going to do every time you feel a little insecure?”

“No! I told you, it was an-!”

“I don’t care what it was, Chris. This is it. This is the last straw. I’ve put up with this for too long, and I will not be with a man that slaps me around just because his feelings are hurt. Get a therapist,” you sneered, turning away from him.

You yelped when he grabbed you again, yanking you to him. You reached out to hit him with your free hand, but he gripped your wrist, holding you to him.

“Y/N, please, lets just talk about this,” he begged.

“Let go of me,” you demanded.

He ignored you, instead shaking you a bit as he pleaded his case.

“Y/N, listen to me!”

“Stop-!”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when a fist came out of nowhere, getting Chris clean in the jaw. He was hit hard enough to collapse, and he gripped his face with a loud groan. You stumbled back, but a hand on the small of your back stopped you.

Grateful, you looked up, ready to thank your savior when you paused. Your gaze connected with that of familiar brown eyes, equally brown hair pushed away from a familiar face. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes widened, shock hitting you square in the chest.

“Peter,” you breathed.

He glanced at your ex-boyfriend who was clutching his face before gently grabbing your hand and leading you away.

“Peter, wh-what are you doing here?” you asked as you followed along in a daze.

“Um… Ned wanted to come check out this party he’d heard about,” he replied.

You stopped walking, and he did too, facing you as you eyed him.

“So you and Ned are still friends. I’m happy to hear that. It’s not like I would have had any other way of knowing…”

Your tone was a bit accusatory and Peter at least had the gall to look ashamed.

You hadn’t seen nor heard from Peter in over a year. You still talked to May occasionally, but never a word from Peter. It was so strange. You and him kept in touch somewhat regularly since you had graduated. The two of you weren’t exactly BFFS or anything, especially since you both made new friends as you each started the new phase in your lives, but one day, a year ago, it just stopped.

Your texts asking him how he was went unanswered. You wanted to know if he was excited for college and if he was sad to leave high school, but you never found out. You weren’t even invited to his graduation, something that had struck a nerve. After all, you babysat him for years, and as old as it was going to make you feel, you still wanted to see him graduate. It was a huge accomplishment that you wanted to witness.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said.

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Are you?” you genuinely asked.

He straightened, eyes widening as he blinked at you.

“Yes! I’m…so sorry, Y/N. Things just got crazy and different and I just had a lot to deal with.”

Your brows creased as you could visibly see the stress along his features. He suddenly looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. You started to grow worried.

“Is everything okay? May?”

“No, yeah, aunt May is fine. Everything’s fine, now,” he replied, scratching the back of his head.

You nodded.

“That’s good to hear.”

You had only gone a year without seeing him, but he looked so different. His jaw seemed to be taut with tension, and there was a crease in his forehead that hadn’t left since you’d seen him. He was dressed plainly in a dark grey t-shirt and dark jeans. He had gotten a bit taller, and you blinked in surprise. The last time you saw him, he was already a bit taller than you, but now he was even more so. You suddenly remembered your manners.

“Thank you, by the way,” you said.

He eyed you, suddenly very serious as he crossed his own arms over his chest. The t-shirt he wore stretched over his muscles as he did so.

“Who was that jerk?”

You sighed, glancing away.

“My ex-boyfriend,” you confessed.

His eyes darkened, and he glared over your shoulder.

“What were you guys fighting about?”

You opened your mouth to answer before thinking better of it.

“It was nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing,” he argued, eyeing you.

You heaved another sigh, turning your face away as you refused to tell him the truth. You realized your mistake when you heard his sharp intake of breath. His hands gripped your chin and face before you could do anything, a slight gasp escaping him.

“Your cheek is swelling,” he said, worry and wonder in his voice.

You pulled away from him, briefly closing your eyes.

“Peter…”

“Did he do that?” he asked, disbelief and outrage coloring his tone.

“Peter, he’s my ex now, okay? It’s not going to happen again,” you said, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

You had never seen him look like that in all the time you’d known him. Sure, he got mad sometimes, especially when things didn’t go like he expected them to, but now he looked angry enough to kill. His hands were clenched into fists, face tense with rage. A wild look was in his eyes.

“Peter, I’m okay,” you said, stepping towards him.

“I should have punched him again,” he spat.

“I’m not going to argue with that, but please don’t. I’ve had enough violence for one night, and I just want to go home-.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You paused, blinking up at him.

“What? Peter, no. You came with friends. Go have fun with them, don’t worry about me,” you replied.

He shook his head, grabbing your keys out of your hand.

“No, I’m going with you. You need to put something on your face,” he disputed.

You opened your mouth to argue but decided to pick your battles. With a nod, you led him towards your car. You didn’t have a chance to say anything before he was sliding behind the wheel. To be honest, you were emotionally exhausted for the night and was quite relieved to relax in the passenger seat. You didn’t even know Peter knew how to drive, now, and your heart clenched as you felt like you had missed so much despite only missing a year.

You laid your head against the rest as Peter pulled away from the noisy house, listening to your directions instead.

 ~

“You…kind of have the worst taste in men,” he sheepishly said.

You gasped, mouth falling open in shock and mock outrage as he held a freezing bag of peas to your face.

“Are you seriously blaming me, right now?”

He spluttered, a flush taking over his face as he rushed to correct himself.

“No, no! Of course not. I’m just saying… You know how you are,” he added.

You frowned at him, narrowing your eyes a bit.

“No, how am I?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Remember that asshole you dated your freshman year of college? Or that jerk way back in your junior year of high school?”

You did actually. You’d ended up crying all night on May’s couch when you should have been watching Peter because Dylan had dumped you for some more popular girl. Peter, in all his chivalry, had let you have the rest of the pizza while he listened to you cry your heart out. You didn’t even want to talk about Nate.

You’d brought him over to May’s one day when you went to visit her and Peter after being in school for a few months. Peter hated him from the first moment they’d met. You remembered how angry you were that Peter was acting like such a kid and embarrassing you in front of Nate. You’d even said some pretty harsh words to him, something you apologized for when Nate inevitably showed his true colors.

“How could I forget,” you quietly mused.

Maybe Peter had a point. Looking back, the guys you’d dated had shown red flags from the start, all of which you had ignored. Even tonight shouldn’t have come as a shock to you. Chris was always so jealous and irrationally angry over the smallest of things. You should have left the minute he started telling you to stop visiting your family so much.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Peter apologized. “None of this is your fault.”

“No, I’m glad you said it, Peter. You’re not entirely wrong,” you sighed. “I see the signs and I just…ignore them.”

Peter didn’t respond, instead running his eyes over you as he shifted the frozen vegetables. He swallowed, suddenly stepping back.

“What did you see in any of them?” he quietly asked, almost desperately.

“To be honest… I don’t know,” you responded with a shrug.

Peter sighed before setting the cold bag on the counter behind you, resting his hand there.

“Is it…because they’re older? Or even just your age?”

You frowned in confusion, tilting your head at him.

“I’m sure that’s not it. What makes you think that?”

He stepped away from you, shoulders tense as he turned around and stared into your living room.

“I stopped talking to you a year ago because…because I was trying to move on. I was tying to forget you,” he quietly admitted.

Your frown deepened, a dreaded feeling take hold in your stomach.

“What?”

He turned around, dark eyes troubled.

“I was trying to forget you. You were enjoying college and new friends and new boyfriends, and I got tired of trying to show you that I was becoming someone you could be with. I thought that maybe you deserved better and someone who could relate to you more, but then…”

He released a shaky breath, face hardening as he stared past you.

“Then I saw you tonight…with him. He was hurting you, and you were screaming, and I wanted to hurt him like he was hurting you.”

“Peter…”

Just like that last night, a realization was coming to you, and you didn’t like it. His eyes softened as he looked at you.

“Do you remember…”

“Peter, don’t.”

“…when you said you’d wait for me?”

You scoffed in disbelief, pushing away from the counter to walk around it, leaning against your stove as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Peter, that was years ago! I… I just didn’t want to hurt you,” you confessed.

His face fell a bit, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You had never wanted to hurt him. Everything that you had done was to prevent that. You thought he would have forgotten.

“You only said that to spare my feelings?”

“I thought you’d move on!”

“I tried!”

You pressed your back into the metal behind you, eyeing him as his eyes glistened. Desperation took over his features, and his lips trembled.

“I tried so hard, but… I love you.”

“Peter, no-.”

“I have been in love with you for years. I thought I could forget, but I can’t. I wanted you to live your life, but tonight just proved to me that I should have never tried to let you go. I should have been by your side as soon as I graduated. Tonight never would have happened if I had been,” he ranted.

“Peter-.”

“I can protect you, now. I mean…I could have protected you for years, but now I have the freedom to actually do that.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do that,” you argued. “That isn’t your job.”

He licked his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Do you remember that first night you came over…and you said that you were just there to look out for me? To protect me, like a guardian?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Well, now it can be my turn.”

“Peter, no! Okay?”

You felt like a broken record. He walked towards you, face determined.

“You don’t know the things I can do, Y/N. I can look out for you better than any of those other guys out there! I know you think I’m being silly and that I’m just oh so young-!”

“You are!”

“I’m 20, Y/N! 20! That’s 4 years younger than you! You have friends that are 20,” he desperately argued, eyes wide.

“That’s different!”

“How?”

“…b-because,” you lamely replied.

“I’m not good enough to be with you?”

“Peter…you’re just… You’re so young. No, four years isn’t a big deal, but I babysat you. I watched you grow up with me, and we’re at such different stages in our lives. We want different things-.”

“I want you,” Peter tearfully interrupted.

You swallowed.

“…and I want you to want someone else,” you quietly said.

“That’ll never happen,” he whispered.

“Peter, please,” you tried to reason with him.

He took another step towards you.

“I can make you so happy. Y/N, I can give you so much, you have no idea. You don’t know who I am, now or what I can do or what I can give you. Just give me a chance,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Peter, please leave.”

He paused, face crushed as you held his gaze. You wanted to look away, but you had to stand your ground if you ever wanted to get through to him. He suddenly exhaled, a newfound determination seeping into his features.

You gasped into his mouth as he pressed his lips against yours, hands holding you close as he pinned you in between him and the counter. You pushed against his hard chest, but he didn’t budge, and you whimpered against his lips. One of his hands found your hair while the other found your waist.

“Peter, Peter, stop,” you gasped.

He didn’t listen, both hands pressed onto the counter, now, keeping you trapped. You squirmed against him, and he groaned into your mouth. With reluctance, you bit his lip, and he pulled away with a pained gasp.

His wild eyes met your terrified ones, and his face softened. He reached up to brush his fingers over his bleeding lip, and you swallowed.

“Go. Please, just go, Peter,” you quietly forced out.

He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it before listening to you. You let the tears fall as the door slammed shut behind him.

~ 

“No, um… I haven’t seen him since then,” you worriedly replied.

“Okay. If you hear from him, you’ll call me?”

“Of course, May. I’ll definitely call.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh, worry coursing through your veins. It had been weeks since that night you’d ran into Peter, and apparently, he hadn’t been in contact with anyone since. Guilt consumed you as you felt like this had something to do with you.

You called the number that you hadn’t dialed in over a year with no answer. You texted him, telling him that he should at least check in with his aunt. If anything happened to him, you didn’t know what you’d do.

You should have never given him hope that you two could be anything more. You should have broken his heart that night 6 years ago. It was silly of you to think that you could ever avoid doing such a thing. It was inevitable.

You rose from your bed, heading towards your bathroom to go shower when you heard a noise from your window. You’d only just turned around when something was over your mouth. You reached up in shock and touched what felt like…webbing? Your hands were bound together soon enough, and your legs followed. With a muffle scream, you fell over only to land in strong arms.

Your wide eyes focused on Peter as he held you, and you were powerless to stop him as he raised his hand, pressing a white cloth over your nose. You didn’t even remember closing your eyes.

 ~

“Have you lost your mind?” a somewhat familiar voice screamed.

You didn’t know how you knew that voice.

“Mr. Stark, please! Don’t-don’t freak out, okay?”

Stark. Tony Stark. That was how you knew that voice. You’d heard it on tv during press conferences and such plenty of times.

“Am I hearing this right? You kidnapped a woman, and now you want to keep her here?”

“You don’t understand, Mr. Stark…”

Peter’s voice lowered, and you suddenly realized you were lying on a bed. Your hands and legs were still bound with…whatever, and your head was pounding. You didn’t recognize the dimly lit room, and you struggled to sit up. Their voices were still lowered, and you started to wonder where you were.

You tried to sort everything out in your mind, struggling to come to grips with the fact that Peter had kidnapped you. And that wherever you were, it was far if Tony Stark was in the building too. That brought you to a question as to how Peter even knew Tony Stark.

You didn’t have time to ponder that much before the door opened and Peter filled the entryway. Your eyes widened, and you shuffled back on the bed as he closed the door and approached you. His steps were slow and cautious as if you were the one mostly likely to attack. His expression suddenly softened, eyes apologetic, and you realized that you were crying.

His hands were outstretched in a surrendering way before he slowly used one hand to get whatever it was off of your mouth. A sob escaped you, and he gently shushed you, framing your face with his hands.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, slowly sitting down in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry. Peter, I’m sorry. Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone,” you tearfully pleaded.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, shaking his head. “I would never hurt you.”

“You…you attacked me,” you replied, voice filled with confusion and fear.

He looked down.

“No! No, not…not really. I just need time. We need time for you to understand,” he argued.

You shook your head in confusion.

“It’s my turn to look out for you, now, and I can. I’ll tell you everything eventually, when you’re ready, but right now…”

He settled his hands on your shoulders, massaging them.

“Right now, I want to show you how much I love you. I want to prove to you that I can be everything you want, and I can give you everything you want,” he continued.

“Peter, I don’t want you! You’re my friend,” you sobbed.

He pursed his lips, a frown overtaking his features. He suddenly exhaled, shaking his head.

“I can be more than that. Let me show you…”

You cried harder when he started pushing you back. Your chest heaved, and you were practically inconsolable as he climbed over you. He freed your legs, but they were of no use to you as he easily pinned them down while he undressed you. He ignored your pleas, tearing your shirt and bra straight down the middle before tearing them off of your arms.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his own taking you in, heat and humiliation flooding through you. He was quiet for a long time as he ran his fingers over your bare skin, and you shuddered when you felt him press a kiss to your chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin.

You kept your eyes closed as he ghosted kisses over you, taking his time to kiss every inch of you that he could. His touch was light and soft, so different from anything else you’d ever felt. He touched you like you were made of glass, like he was afraid you’d shatter with one wrong move.

You resisted when he parted your legs, but one hard squeeze on your ankle had you freezing. Your eyes flew open of their own accord when his lips latched onto you, tongue delving inside of your core as he coaxed an involuntary whimper from you. None of your boyfriends had ever returned the favor when you went down on them, and you had convinced yourself that it wasn’t a big deal.

You’d never felt someone else’s lips on you so intimately before, and you couldn’t stop your intense reaction. Fire bloomed in your stomach, and you couldn’t contain the moans that left you as you experienced the new sensation. You felt like you were floating, and you had to remind yourself that you didn’t want this, that your hands were currently bound together to keep you from fighting this like you wanted.

Peter pulled away before you fell over the edge, and you pleaded with him again as he climbed over you, now undressed. His eyes were swimming with determination as he brushed his hand over your cheek, eyeing the place where Chris had hit you weeks ago. He pressed his lips there, breath shaky.

“I’ve dreamed about this day for so long,” he whispered.

“Peter…if you love me…you won’t do this,” you breathed.

He reached between the two of you, trailing his lips over your face before finally pressing them to your lips. He kissed you fiercely, putting so much emotion into it that you found yourself cringing away from the intensity.

“I’m doing this because I love you, and because I want you to know that you deserve the best,” he murmured into your mouth.

One hand was beside your head, pressing into the bed.

“…and that’s me.”

You gasped when he entered you, fingers grazing his stomach as he set a slow pace. You blinked, mouth parted as tears sprang to your eyes. His hips were moving so slowly and so intensely against your own. You could feel every curve and ridge of him, and it awoke pleasure in you that you didn’t know existed. You turned your face away in an attempt to ignore what you were feeling, but it was no use.

Soft grunts escaped his lips, and he used one hand to gently grip your face, turning you to look at him. His brown eyes never left yours, dark hair brushing along his forehead as his skin started to glisten with sweat. His arm flexed, hand clenching the sheets beside your head as he bit his lip, never taking his eyes off of you.

You couldn’t keep the pleasure off of your face. You’d never felt this before. He was so soft with you, gentle in a way you’d never experienced. His touches were feather light, and he watched you like he was looking for the first sign of pain, of discomfort. It made you feel…good…loved, and you didn’t like it.

With a grunt, you struggled against your bonds. More tears escaped, and he wiped them away.

“Hey, hey…”

You shook your head.

“Peter…stop...please,” you gasped, stomach tightening.

“You don’t want me to,” he quietly refuted.

“Yes-.”

“I can feel that you don’t. You’ve been clenching around me, like you don’t want me to go,” he murmured.

More tears escaped, and your breath hitched when he slowed down even more.

“No, no, I don’t like this,” you argued.

But deep down, you did.

“You do! You know you do-.”

“No!”

“Let yourself be loved, Y/N. You’ve never been held right…treated right…touched right. But I’m here, now,” he groaned, brushing his lips over your neck.

Your nails dug into his stomach as you clenched around him, a coil building low in your own. You arched against him, and he bent down to wrap his lips around one exposed bud, teeth grazing your skin. He rested himself fully against you as one hand gripped your hair while the other dug into your hip.

“All I ever wanted was to show you that I can be the man you want,” he panted.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, now, teeth nipping at your skin every once in a while. You felt a dampness there, and when he sat up, you noticed that a few tears had escaped his eyes.

“I love you so much,” he breathed.

“Peter,” you protested as you felt that coil tightening some more.

One hand slid to the small of your back, and he held you against him. He pressed his lips against yours before murmuring:

“Come with me.”

And you did.

You gasped into his mouth as you spasmed around him, legs trembling and shaking like they never had before. His hands and mouth never left you, and you didn’t even realize when your hands were suddenly free, nor when they held onto him. Your bodies were slick with sweat, and as he talked you through it, you didn’t know if your tears were from fear or the overwhelming onslaught of emotion that came with this newfound feeling.

This feeling of being loved.

 ~

tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ @xoxabs88xox​ @darkficreposter​ @sebabestianstan101​ @girlingreen​ @villanellevi​ @harringtonsblackgf​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @mcudarklibrary​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @readermia​

[mimiswonderland]

Moments.

ALMOST 2K OF SMUT UNDER THE CUT I’M NOT EVEN SORRY.

Warnings: smut: unprotected, detailed, slight dominance, too long, 18+.

There were moments when time just seemed to run slower. It didn’t completely stop for us, but it stopped our surroundings. Those rare moments, almost carefully selected in our lives, were the ones we enjoyed the most.

First, he would arrive home. Drenched in sweat and with tired eyes he would announce his so much awaited entrance, alerting me from wherever I was inside our small apartment at the very center of the Village. His voice was always warm and welcoming even when he had been out for weeks, taking dangerous or tiring missions.

Then, I would come out of my hiding spot, an enormous smile on my face as I made my way to his already opened arms, melting into his tired, warm, sticky embrace. Oh, he was finally home. He would kiss the top of my head and slightly detach himself only to take in the sight of my face as I stared back at his profound charcoal eyes with the same love and passion he had when looking at me.

“I’m all sweaty, my love,” he would say, his hands moving slowly up and down my back, reaching lower with every stroke.

“The bath is ready, darling.” I would respond, my own hands moving through his vest, unzipping and slowly discarding it on the floor through some silent protests from him.

There was tension in the air. It filled the apartment, heavy and evident, and up to that point we both could not hold it back anymore. Neither of us cared about the thin, glistening film that covered his body: it’s been too long since we’ve been together. Slowly, my hands made their way to his own, holding them firmly, tugging them as I led him to our empty, cold bedroom.

He closed the door behind him, discarded his top alongside his mask and protector, getting closer with the same grace a lion stalks its prey. I sat at the very edge of the bed, slowly lifting my shirt, teasing. Once the white fabric fell on some forgotten side of the bedroom’s floor, I saw him kneeling in front of me, carefully separating my legs, allowing himself to see my new, dampened lingerie. He huffed an amused smile and I giggled a bit.

“I should be out more often,” he said, “I love how you get wet just by looking at me like that…”

His breath tickled my folds, his nose travelled up and down close enough to feel it yet not touching at all. Then, the very tip of his tongue would grace my clit only to disappear right after the gentle caress. Oh, what a tease he was. He loved teasing, but we both knew he couldn’t resist it long. Soon, his tongue entered the cave he had been craving for weeks, cleaning up all the transparent, sweet fluids that came out from it, tasting them and delightfully swallowing. His tongue moved swiftly, expertly through all the known and unknown places, sending shiver after shiver through my spine, creating small goosebumps of pleasure rise throughout my skin. I slid my fingers through his silver locks, grabbing fistfuls and tugging them gently… harshly… pulling him closer to my aching core. But he was stubborn, he always want to get his way. So his tongue slid out of my soaking cavity and spread all its width up my folds to my little button and back down again. Each caress of his tongue made my core warm, the hotness building up my skin, desperately getting out in sweat drops through pores and labored panting. My legs shook at his sides, the palms of his gloved hands feeling the slight movement, squeezing the insides of my thighs, forcing an early release from me.

He would gently kiss my clit one last time before slowly climbing on top of me, slightly dragging me to the center of the mattress. My hands would run through his disheveled silver locks as he took down his pants and underwear, discarding them somewhere in the room without breaking the intense eye contact we had. He would crawl once again, hovering my almost naked figure. He enjoyed my panting, my lack of air due to his ministrations, and he liked showing his joy with a playful, love-filled smirk. His lips quickly found my own and began moving them with parsimony, making sure to taste them enough to record them in his mind once again. My hands found his hair once more, but soon traveled through his toned back until my nails graced his butt cheeks, his lips slightly parting to release a sweet sound of surprise. I took my chance and slipped my tongue in without asking for permission first, quickly gaining control over the situation. Soon I flipped him over with one swift leg movement, straddling his form as I placed his hands on top of his head, demanding. He looked surprised, but pleased nonetheless; after all, it was a very rare occurrence.

I leaned in, my skin finally touching his skin, feeling the accumulated sweat of the man underneath. He thought at first that I would kiss him for my lips were dangerously close to his, but I moved my head to the side, biting his neck and sucking his salty skin, leaving the marks that stated he was already taken. His skin slightly smelled like another woman: the princess he had to escort back to her country.

“She was rather close to you, wasn’t she…?” I whispered close to his ear, lightly biting and tugging the earlobe. He shivered slightly and his hardened member twitched against my soaked womanhood.

“She tried to hug me a few times…” he breathed out, “but I pushed her away, my love.”

My hands left his wrists and traveled along his sides, feeling his toned muscles tense and relax with my gentle touches. I started lowering myself as well, my lips drawing a trail down his chest and abdomen, harshly sucking and biting all those sweet spots he was so weak for, leaving deliciously purple marks all over his pale skin. He shivered and tensed with every movement, his hands gently held my head through my locks as he tried to guide my face to the one place he had been waiting to get attended.

My lips found the soaked head of his large member, my tongue reached the sensitive skin and I began to circle my muscle around it slowly. He tried his best to suppress the sweet, gentle whimpers that tried to pass through his swollen lips, but he failed from time to time to do so, warming up my lower areas as his battle against himself continued. Then, I lowered my head, extending my tongue as far as possible so I could take him in. His body trembled with every swirl of my tongue, his head rolled back with every gentle caress of my teeth on his skin and soon he was all over my mouth, the warmth of his sweet seed filling my mouth. I continued to suck him for a bit, making sure that his load was completely out and swallowed it all, quickly leading his length to my dripping cavity and digging it as far as I could. Oh, I adored his surprised face too much.

I set the pace: slow and hard. I lowered myself at first, trying to feel all of him pressed firmly against me as I rocked up and down with the same parsimony he had while passionately kissing me. He had no trouble finding my butt cheeks and getting a strong grip on them, also helping me with the rhythm. I could feel our skins melting together, our sweats rolling down our bodies, our breaths and moans mingling… my head would roll backwards and he would kiss my exposed neck, also leaving marks in every sweet spot he knew.

“Kashi…” I managed to whisper through a moan, “sit.”

He did as he was told, as always. Soon, I was sitting on top of his lap as he hugged his form as tight as possible to mine without getting out of me once. I would sink him deep into me, rolling my hips as I reached his base, making both of us moan with all that pleasure we had been yearning for weeks. He grabbed my butt tightly and started bouncing me faster, letting me fall harder, until we couldn’t hold back ourselves and started screaming, lust and pleasure clouding all of our senses. My insides started feeling tight and incredibly warm, my vision was blurry and the man in front of me was all my mind could think about… oh, it felt just so, so good…

“You’re so wet, darling,” he would say in between stolen breaths, “I don’t think I can keep… mph… holding back.”

The motions were too fast, the tension was too much and both of our releases were very close. I couldn’t keep holding back either.

“I’m…” I tried to say, “Kashi, I’m—”

“I know, baby, me too.”

Screams of pleasure filled the silence, sweat dampened the sheets, his release tainted my walls and mixed with my own release and sweet nothings whispered in our ears filled our aching hearts. We both rode down our climax together, as we did everything.

“I missed you so much, babe…” he said, his forehead placed on my shoulder as I caressed the back of his head.

“I missed you, too...” I simply said, holding him closer.

We stayed in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence. It just felt right, having him back in my arms, safe and sound.

“I should probably get out of you, though.” He said, chuckling.

“I should tend those small wounds you have…”

Yet neither of us dared to move, our current position too comfortable to let it go.

“How about a round two in the tub?” The silver haired jounin asked suggestively, making me smile.

There were moments when time just seemed to run slower. It didn’t completely stop for us, but it stopped our surroundings. Those rare moments, almost carefully selected in our lives, were the ones we enjoyed the most.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Hello~ I hope you liked it. I’d love to know your thoughts on it, and if you have any particular request, I’d be glad to make your dreams come true on the blog (?)

As always, help is always appreciated n.n

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 4: Anxceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 4: There is a trail of color only you can see that marks out where your soulmate has been.

Content warning: parental death from heart attack (none of the sides), homophobia, religious themes regarding said homophobia, concert, minor sensory overload (Virgil is technically autistic but it’s not explicit).

Word count: 3.3k

The last thing Janus Natter had ever wanted to do was return to his hometown. 

It only held bad memories that stemmed from living in a small town, of homophobia and school bullies and dirty looks from neighbours. Granted, he’d never actually been kicked out of his home after coming out, but word spread like a wildfire and the people in his neighborhood weren’t the most open minded. His mom didn’t talk to him; she blamed herself, and there were all too many nights he walked past her room and heard her praying and crying for the repentance of her baby boy.

So the moment he turned eighteen, he was out of there. Waved goodbye to the woman who stiffened every time he tried to hug her and moved halfway across the country, starting a new life for himself in a rundown apartment and a minimum wage intern job and not regretting it for a second. Everything seemed better for a while. A promotion followed a couple years after, and his apartment was upgraded to one that actually had a separate kitchen and dining room so he wasn’t eating on the counter anymore. Until he got a call from one of his aunts at three am, four days after Christmas.

Obviously, he cried when his mom died. He broke down as soon as he hung up the phone, sitting on the edge of his bed and letting the news slowly integrate into his system. Sure, they hadn’t had the best relationship, but she’d been a great mom up until he admitted the truth that drove a wedge between them. And he’d never really blamed her, knowing his own internal homophobia would only be heightened in her. But it still hurt that she hadn’t reached out whatsoever when she was put into the hospital after the first heart attack. Maybe he would have been there when the second one hit and been able to save her. Or at least say goodbye.

The funeral was rough. None of his family bothered to talk to him, and the one little cousin that ran up to give him a hug was swiftly pulled away. Not like he was expecting much else, but c’mon. It’s not infectious. At least no one commented on him crying again. 

He was on the first flight back out, and after a couple days off work to recenter himself, things seemed to back to normal. It wasn’t as if any part of his daily routine was disturbed. He wasn’t missing any motherly catch up calls, no little packages, no life advice, that he’d never gotten before, so it was almost easy to pretend that nothing had changed. Until he got another call. 

This time it was his uncle, calling in the middle of his work day, to tell him that he needed to come back home and clear out his mom’s house. He was reluctant at first. Why couldn’t someone else do it? What was so important that he had to do it? But the family seemed determined to distance themselves from the house as much as possible, and when his uncle insisted that “we’re all still in mourning, Janus,” as if to imply he wasn’t upset at the death of his own mother, he hung up the phone with a curt agreement to come back as soon as possible. He later got a text that stated the house was going to be put on the market in the coming week, so he needed to get there soon. 

That’s what led to him exiting a cab three days later in front of his childhood home, suitcase in hand, with a disgruntled expression. The house was much less threatening than it had always seemed when he lived there, unassuming and indistinguishable from the other houses on the block, but the memories of lonely nights of crying himself to sleep and craving a hug from his mother were at the forefront of his mind. You’re never going to get another hug from her. He quickly snapped out of it before the tears could rise, thanking the cab driver and walking up to the front door. 

His mother had taken his key when he left, claiming it was to give to a neighbour to water her flowers when she went on a cruise or something equally far fetched, but Janus figured she just wouldn’t want to be surprised by him visiting. This was, afterall, the first time she’d been free from his disappointing presence in years. Luckily, they’d always kept a spare under the plant by the door, now wilted and crusty and dropping leaves when he leaned it over, hand slapping the concrete underneath.

Nothing.

He picked it up off the ground entirely, sweeping the ground directly under it and then scanning the surrounding area with growing irritation. Had someone taken it after the funeral? How the hell did they expect him to get into the house? Oh yeah, come clean the house but we’re gonna take the key! Fuckers. 

A loud crash from behind the door startled him enough to drop the plant, the ceramic pot smashing on the stairs. Whoops. Another sound from inside, something that sounded like a chair scraping on the tiled kitchen floor, and Janus realized with mounting horror that the front door was open a crack. His family had all claimed to not be able to even come near the place, so… Fantastic. Someone had broken into a death house and he was going to have to deal with it. 

The wise choice would have been to call the police. 

So Janus pushed the door open and walked in, ignoring the sudden flurry of memories in favor of following the source of the noise. 

“Hello?” Yeah, smart, Janus, that always works in the horror movies!

Another scrape in the steadily approaching kitchen, accompanied by muffled swearing. As an almost last thought, Janus picked up the first small object he could feel on the entry table, acknowledging its heft and hoping it would be a suitable weapon without taking his eyes from the hall. Here goes nothing.

Then, in a move to top all stupidity, he turned into the room in a whirl, hoisting the weapon above his head, ready to beat down on whoever was rifling through his dead mother’s drawers. Only to freeze.

“Remus?”

“Janus, what the fuck!” The statement was said with a surprising amount of glee. Remus was the only person he knew who could turn swears into something joyful. 

Janus turned his gaze to the floor and the chair Remus was standing on, surrounded by a pile of glass shards. It looked to be the remnants of the entire glass collection, if the amount was anything to go by. Remus gave another shuffle of his chair, the loud shriek sounding again, as he tried to scooch closer without stepping on the shards in his bare feet.

“Why are you holding a banana?” 

It took him a solid second to process Remus’ question before he looked down at his own hand, his fingers curled around the metal banana from the decorative fruit bowl in the entry. 

“No reason. Why are you in my house, destroying my dinnerware?”

“Help me not step in glass and I’ll tell you.”

Finding a broom was easy; it was still in the same place it always had been before he left. Cleaning the glass took longer, what with Remus’ flurry of questions and Janus’ focus between answering him, sweeping, and not whacking Remus on the head with the broom handle. Apparently it didn’t take long for him to become annoying again.

Still, the grinning man had been the one and only reason he’d had trouble saying goodbye to the town, the only person who still gladly befriended him after coming out. He hated to admit how much he’d missed him.   

When the floor was clear, Remus hesitantly stepped down off the chair, wiggling his toes on the ground.

“Why did you take your shoes off when you came in? It’s not like anyone’s gonna be pissed if you track mud in anymore.”

“I didn’t wear any.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

Remus shared a softer look with him, the manic smile drooping, “Hey, I’m sorry about your mom. That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” Was Janus’ incredibly eloquent response. He shook his head, and Remus accepted the subject change with no questions, “So why are you here?”

“Well, I heard you were coming to clear the place out eventually, so I thought I’d get here early and start. Help you out.”

“And…”

“... And snoop around a little bit.”

“There it is.”

“Not like, bad stuff! Just… I don’t know. Deep, dark, family secrets.”

Janus sighed, taking in the kitchen for the first time since entering. “The biggest secret this family tries to hide is me.”

“Dark.”

“Mmhm.” He gasped as two arms suddenly wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into the most physical contact he’d had in… years.

“Welcome back, Natter.”

“Yeah, well,” He cleared his throat of voice cracks before continuing, “I only got two days off work. So I’m not staying long. I somehow need to completely clear this place out in 48 hours,” He ran a hand down his face, pulling away from the hug reluctantly, “You wouldn’t actually be interested in helping, would you?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Remus ignored it completely. “You’re only here two days? Inconceivable!”

“You’ve been watching Princess Bride again.”

“We gotta hang out!” The pleading expression on Remus’ face was almost enough to sell him on the idea.

“Weren’t you listening? I literally don’t have the time.”

“I’m going to a concert tonight in Brookton. Come with me!” Remus continued as if he hadn’t spoken, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Just one night, Jan. Pleeeease? I’ll even come here and help you the rest of the time.”

With an affectionate snort, he shook his head, “As fun as that sounds, I’m broke.”

“I can get you in.”

“You’re not paying for me.”

“Who said anything about paying?”

Janus raised an eyebrow, though it was more like how a parent would scold a child than surprise. They’d always gotten into trouble together as kids, and this was just… a level up, in a way. Not that he condoned it.

“I know one of the security guards. He’s one of my hookups, and he happens to owe me a favor or two.”

  Wait. “You’re gay?”

“Shit, I didn’t tell you?!” Remus shrieked, grabbing Janus’ hand and dragging him to the front door, key waving in his face, “I’ll tell you all about it on the way. C’mon, it’s an hour drive.”

Well, looks like he didn’t have a say in it. And he’d be lying if he claimed he hadn’t missed hanging out with his old best friend… or just a friend at all, really.

“Fine, but you’re stopping by your place to grab shoes!”

-----------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t a small venue by any means. It wasn’t Beyonce big, but enough to know that if he lost track of Remus, he’d be fucked. In his rush out the door so soon after a morning of traveling, he’d forgotten his charger and his phone was conveniently dead. Janus kept a careful eye on Remus, following the bob of his neon green and black jacket through the crowd and only distantly wondering what band they were actually about to see. The gremlin kept pushing through, ignoring the annoyed shouts of people he shoved, leaving Janus to hastily apologize each time as he followed in his wake.

When Remus slowed just for a moment, stretching on his tiptoes to find a good spot over the sea of heads, Janus lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve. The taller man raised an eyebrow.

“As fun as it would be to get lost, I’m not in the mood.”

“Ah,” Remus’ eyes settled on a spot near the stage, one that Janus couldn’t see being a head shorter than him, “Good timing. Hang on tight.”

And hang on he did, because Remus fully embodied the physicality of a snow plow and plunged back into the crowd with new ferocity. Janus just closed his eyes and blindly let himself be led, letting the bubbling breathiness of a laugh escape his mouth. It had been too long since he’d just been able to have fun like this, without the threat of work and bills in his peripheral. The chatter was deafening in the best way possible, drowning out his worried thoughts, and the flashing lights that were still visible through his closed eyelids was invigorating. The promise for more elated him. 

When Remus finally stopped, Janus didn’t get the memo on time and ran into his back full force. He grunted and opened his eyes, focused on his throbbing nose, before realizing how close to the stage they really were. The taller man was staring down at him, grinning maniacally, seemingly impressed with their placement as well. 

Then a flash to the side caught his attention, and his throat went dry.

“Remus, look me in the eye and tell me you see that.”

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion before he followed Janus’ line of sight, seeing nothing but the dense crowd. “See what?”

“The light, the light trail…” Janus inhaled sharply through his nose, grip on the other’s sleeve tightening, “It’s my soulmate. He’s here somewhere.”

“Your soulmate? Seriously?”

“Yeah, I…”

“Well, fuck! You’re welcome, eh, Natter? I told you you should have come!” He gave Janus’ arm a light punch, smile widening. “Go find him!”

Janus seemed hesitant, eyes flickering between Remus and the deep purple light trail, weaving between the people and heading towards the back of the venue. “How will I find you again after?”

“That’s a problem for future you. Go, you idiot!”

“Okay, okay! I’m going! Just don’t leave without me!”

He was off before he could hear Remus’ answer, ducking under raised arms and trying his hardest to follow the quickly dissolving trail. Now that he had his eye on it, it had decided that it was time to disappear, and he was quickly losing sight of it. 

No, scratch that, it was definitely getting brighter now. And more concrete around the edges, instead of fading out. Was he close? He weaved past another small group of people, eyes following the purple line until-

There.

Holy shit.

He was stunning, that was the first thing Janus noticed. The purple trail stopped at him, covering him with a faint lilac aura before fading completely, content with it’s work. At first he thought the slight tint to the other’s hair was left over from the soulmark, before the lights switched and he realized, no, his hair was dyed purple. The most eye catching thing, though, besides his makeup, was the bulky pair of… were those headphones on his ears? At a concert? Granted, it hadn’t started yet, but still.

Apparently he was standing in one place for too long amongst the constantly moving hoard of people, and his stillness got the attention of the boy in front of him. He gasped sharply when they made eye contact, shocked from what Janus assumed to be the soulmark that probably surrounded him. And then he started hyperventilating. Bad.

“Shit! Okay, hey, calm down, okay? It’s fine-”

He was cut off by a loud riff of an electric guitar, almost immediately drowned out by the screaming fans that surged forward like a tidal wave. The boy in front of him curled in on himself, hands pressing into the headphones around his ears in an attempt to drown out the noise. Despite his more cautionary side, Janus reached forward and took his arm, guiding him gently towards the door.

“Let’s go outside and talk, alright?”

Maybe following a stranger outside alone wasn’t the smartest idea but… Virgil had seen the soul mark, a gentle yellow glow around this man that quickly dissipated, leaving behind a man sharing an equally shocked look on his face. So that had to mean he wasn’t totally bad, right? Either he was his soulmate or some kind of guardian angel, and neither of those were necessarily bad options. 

As soon as they stepped outside the main arena, it was as if the tight band around Virgil’s chest loosened. Not gone completely, but enough that he could catch his breath. He reached up and pulled his ear defenders off his head, relieved that the quiet was enough that he didn’t need them anymore. They were definitely a life saver, but sometimes the way they muffled noise was indescribably uncomfortable as well.

The man noticed his immediate relief, letting go of his guiding arm and slowing his pace so Virgil could walk beside him. 

“I’m Janus.” 

“Virgil.”

In a blur, they ended up outside the venue, sitting on the curb directly outside the main doors. Virgil was fiddling with his ear muffs, eyes trained on the inky darkness surrounding them. Besides the dull resounding of the bass echoing from inside and steady stream of traffic just out of their view, it was reasonably quiet.

“So, you live in Brookton?” Janus finally broke the comfortable silence, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah. Not for long, though.”

“Oh?”

“Planning to get out soon. Don’t know where, don’t know how. But I’m not much of a ‘small town’ guy.”

“Brookton counts as a small town?”

Virgil hummed, finally placing the head gear down beside him and closing his eyes, breathing in the smell of fast food from the variety of food trucks around the area. It was a strange cacophony of oil and salt, oddly enticing even if just the scent was enough for his skin to break out. 

“What about you? From around here?”

“Sort of?” He explained his story in as few words as possible, flying over his mom’s general unacceptance and her death, and the fact that he had to clean out her house in two days. “Less than that now, I guess. One and a half. It’s gonna be hell.” His head fell into his hands, fingers rubbing at the temples as if to soothe the headache he was expecting.

Virgil was a good listener, nodding along to the right parts and avoiding those stupid sympathetic looks he was so tired of. It was a nice relief to actually feel listened to, not pitied. 

“My parents are kind of similar. It doesn’t feel like I have much to complain about, though, because… I mean, they didn’t kick me out. Don’t openly hate on me. But it still sucks. They don’t even acknowledge me half the time.”

“Exactly! And then you see people who have it worse, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit for feeling upset!”

“Good match, universe.” Virgil flopped onto his back, purple hair splayed out on the concrete. “It’s the subtle homophobia for me.”

“Ah, you’re a ‘meme person’.”

“Sucks for you, you’re stuck with me now.”

“I’ll manage,” Janus joined him on the ground, suddenly disgusted that he was still in the same outfit that he’d flown in today. He hated the smell of plane, and he must reek of it. But Virgil didn’t seem to mind his general disheveled appearance as he made an abstract comment about the moon being full today, and how that generally meant bad things. Janus made the mistake of asking him what he meant, which turned into a full blown lecture on mythology and cryptids, one that Virgil didn’t have the capability to control. It made him smile though, seeing the emo so utterly delighted to explain it, and he realized with a start that he was going to get to enjoy this man for the rest of his life. Two people who could talk, matched with a person who loved to listen equally as much. Virgil had been right. Good match, universe.

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Harada Sakura Epilogue

This is my first post of the month, so I’ll start by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share…. and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me….

Well it’s Canada Day. Hope everyone is staying safe during this time (especially if you’re out West with the heat), and while I could probably write an essay about how I can understand why people will take issue of fireworks and parties today, I don’t exactly think that’s the best way to address the issues going on, though I do feel somewhat compelled to say something. I mean, I’m of an ethnic descent where the immigrants of my common ancestry were subjected to a head tax and were actively targeted by the government for discrimination, so I do have some historical justification for not wanting this particular day celebrated. However, at the same time, it’s because I acknowledge that more than one generation of my family (and on both sides of my family tree) immigrated to this country that my family and relatives have been given opportunities none of us would have had otherwise, or have had the same rights, that I truly appreciate living in Canada, and I know that other people will have similar reasons for doing the same... which is also why I refuse to be an ignorant citizen. I guess that’s partially owed to how I acknowledge that I’m realistic in knowing what change I can affect, but beyond that, I do see it is part of my civic duty to be educated about what happens in the country I live in because I just can’t pretend that everything is all sunshine and rainbows... So, today, like most of the other Canada Days I can recall, I reflect on how grateful I am to be a citizen of the country I call home, and how thankful I am in knowing how far it has come, but I also acknowledge that it still has plenty of flaws and that there are things that still need to be changed so the country is better for “all of us” instead of just ‘some of us’.

 Anyway, this month’s translations are all from Yuugiroku 2.... and this is is my only translation of 『恋秘めし日』 content since I was never able to find any more of these as copy-able text.  

Also, on a lighter note, i can’t believe it’s been more than a decade since i actually watched an anime. i mean, i’m normally satisfied with just reading the manga for something, but my cravings for yuumori content actually drove me to the anime (mostly good and while it was full of feels, im upset that IG cut out the adventure of one student from the anime)... which feels somewhat odd when i consider how ive yet to watch the hakuoki anime or movies. still, for hakuoki, my desire for more content did lead to 2 years of translating lol. 

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Harada Sakura Epilogue

Translation by KumoriYami

At the end of our conversation, I took a light breath and raised my head.

A gust of wind then blew, and the leaves over our heads made rustling sounds.

Chizuru: The sunlight is very strong today.

Harada: Yeah. It's nice that the weather's finally cleared up, but...... the hot weather in Kyoto, and this moisture really feels unbearable.

Chizuru: That's true......

As I spoke, I turned my gaze back towards Harada-san......

Chizuru: Ah......

This numbness in my head felt like an illusion.

Was it because I spent so long talking under such fierce sunlight.

I seemed to be feeling a bit dizzy.

Harada: Hey, are you okay? You don't look very good. Are you feeling unwell/sick / Do you feel sick/unwell? ?

Chizuru: I-I'm fine. I just feel a bit cold......

I didn’t want him to feel worried, so I responded with a smile/smiled as I answered——.

My legs however seemed to have lost their strength, and the view in front of me/everything around me began to blur.

Just as I was about to fall and hit the ground.

Harada: Oi, Chizuru, get a hold of yourself!

My swaying body was caught by a pair of strong hands.

Then in that moment/A moment later——.

Suddenly, Harada-san's face became incredibly closer to mine

Manly eyebrows, slender eyes, and even each individual eyelash could be seen at his distance.

Due to how sudden this was, I couldn't say anything as/while my mouth/lips trembled/ and only my mouth was opening and closing/mouth was in a state of opening and closing.

The heat from where our foreheads were touching, and how Harada-san's hand was touching my back were the only things that I was completely aware of.

Harada:......For now, let's check your temperature...... Nn.

Chizuru: Wh-What, Harada-san...... what are you doing......!

I felt/was so embarrassed and could only/was only able to squeeze out that one sentence.

Harada: Recently, a cold’s been going around headquarters. I'm worried that you might have caught/gotten it/infected by it/with it. 

Chizuru: Is, is that so......

Harada-san did that because he was worried about me......

Chizuru: Um, Harada-san. I feel fine/I'm [feeling] fine, so......

Harada-san's expression however became very serious, and he spoke harshly/rebukingly.

Harada: What a stupid thing to say. What are you going to do if you get sick/If you get sick, what are you going to do? Although there's a saying about how doctors don't pay attention to their own health...... it wouldn't be funny if you got sick, as the daughter of a doctor. Besides, if you get sick, you might also pass it on to the others warriors.

That's true...... I couldn't bear to trouble the other warriors with my problems.

Chizuru:......I'm sorry, Harada-san.

I closed my eyes and desperately tried to supress my embarrassment as I allowed Harada-san to continue. 

His forehead remained against mine for a while as he checked my temperature, and finally/but eventually......

Harada:......I'm done, Chizuru. You don't seem to have a fever, and you can open your eyes now.

Harada-san spoke softly as he gently brushed my forehead with his fingers.

Harada: For now, you don't seem to have a cold, so don't worry. As long as you get sufficient rest, you should get better."

Chizuru: I, I see/Ye-Yes. Thank you......

I felt incredibly embarrassed...... I didn't dare look at Harada-san as I bowed my head in thanks.

Then, he showed a deliberate and teasing smile——.

Harada:......But why do you seem to be hotter now than before I took your temperature?

Chizuru: Th-That's because......!

Despite how he clearly knew the reason, he deliberately asked me such a nasty question......

I didn't know how to answer that, so/and I lowered head as I continued blushing/to blush. 

Harada: Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to tease you on purpose.

As he spoke, he put his large palm on top of my head.

Harada:.......Is it time for us to head back now? I don't know if you've been instructed to do anything/told to do something.

I......

continued chatting

brought this to an end <-

Chizuru: We've been talking for a while, so it should be time to return to to headquarters.

Harada: That's true/right. Though, I wish we could still continue this.

However, is it okay for you to go back to headquarters like this? Your entire face is very red.

Chizuru: It, it should get back to normal by the time we return to headquarters..... Can we take a small detour? My face/complexion should be back to normal after that. 

Harada: Well, that might true. But I don't want to see getting dizzy again. So don't force yourself/overdo it.

Chizuru: So-Sorry......

Harada: Don't worry about it. If you’re having a hard time, you can hold onto me 

As Harada-san spoke, he stroked my hair.

Harada: Then let's go back to headquarters, Chizuru. Everyone will be/is waiting for us.

Chizuru:......Yes.

While listening to my still intensely beating heart, Harada-san and I started walking back to headquarters.

-end-

one of these days, I am going to go watch the new Shaman King anime... though im not sure when that’ll be.  

also... for the record, I learned about the Sixties Scoop and residential schools sometime around 2004, when i was still in elementary school so I can unfortunately say that most of the news these days hasn’t really surprised me... and it’s also why I have a very negative bias towards certain entities. 

[babbushka]

Centerfold

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

4k; N S F W (oral sex, come marking, come eating, thigh riding, photography during sex, porny pervy photos, whipped cream) 

Also available on AO3!

[part of the Flip Zimmerman NSFW Alphabet Prompt series, letters C&D]

                                                 ---------------------

It’s late, real late when he comes home. So late that it’s a little too dark to read the clock face in the hall, but that’s alright. You knew it would be, when you spoke to him on the phone during his lunch break. Flip had been up to his eyes trying to connect dots and draw strings for the case, so you planned accordingly. You timed dinner perfectly; the oven dinged right as you heard the lock on the front door click open, as the familiar smell of your man’s cigarette smoke wafted into the kitchen before he did.

You can’t help a little grin spread across your face, can’t help your heart from fluttering just the smallest bit at the sound of his heavy boots. You had some candles lit around the living room, more for ambiance than light. No, the large fireplace was steadily crackling and filling the room with a warm glow, one that you hoped would put Flip in the mood.

Dinner needed some time to rest, to cool a little bit so it wouldn’t burn your tongues. You bit your lip, smiled around the thought of just where and how you wanted Flip’s tongue in the meantime.

“Welcome home honey!” You call out to him, taking off your apron and shaking your hair out as you leave the kitchen and greet him in the foyer. He’s hanging up his coat in the little closet by the door, and you don’t hesitate before wrapping your arms around his big middle, smiling up at him. “It was a little chilly out today, why don’t you come sit with me next to the fire?”

“What’s all this, ketsl?” Flip smiles down at you, just a little quirk of his lips around his cigarette. His eyes are so warm, so brown. He nods in the direction of the living room, gesturing to all the candles and the record player that’s softly playing.

“I thought tonight we could have some fun.” You smooth your hands up his chest, feeling how firm and strong his muscles are. He hums out happily as you loop your arms around his neck, kiss him slow slow slow while you whisper, “Unwind a bit, put on some music, have a little sex. You know.”

He exhales then, thick clouds of grey-blue smoke that wind around your bodies. He can tell you’re not wearing anything underneath that robe of yours with the way that the fabric slips away from your breasts a little too revealingly, and his jaw clenches for it.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re trouble?” He says low, dangerous, hungry.

Good, you think, you love when your man comes home with an appetite.

“Me? What’d I ever do?” You tease, taking him by the hand and leading him away from the foyer and into the living room.

He goes easily, happily. He looks tired, but that’s alright, you’ll let him sleep after you have your fun. You can already see the line of his dick pressing into his jeans, and that alone has your thighs rubbing together, has you wanting to get fucked.

He follows you, katchkaleh hot on your heels, and he stands behind you in the living room, your toes cushioned on the plush shag carpet.

“Mmm you’re just,” He pulls some of your hair away from your neck and face, tipping your head to the side so he can press hot open mouthed kisses to the skin there, can taste the beat of your pulse. “So so beautiful. I thought of you at work today, all day.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me what you thought about.” You encourage, taking the cigarette away from him and holding it between your fingers so that he can get both his hands on you.

They massage your breasts for a minute before sliding down down down your body, parting the fabric of your robe. You’re not wearing panties and he groans, lets his huge hand wedge between your inner thighs, feeling the heat of you, the wetness of you, the want of you.

“Your sweet pussy mostly.” He replies, voice deep and heady, “Was hopin’ to come home to see you naked, had to go jerk off in the back about it.”

Your body tingles all over at the thought, at his admission. He continues to kiss and suck on your neck, places bruises there over old bruises he left you that morning. The sting of pain makes your stomach clench in the best way, and your eyes slip closed as you feel him grind his cock against your ass.

“Did you take one of the pictures back with you? Did you jerk off and come all over the polaroids?” You asked, and he sucked in a deep breath.

That was one of his biggest dirty secrets, those pictures. Polaroids and 35mm stills he takes of you, asks you to pose for, jerks off over whenever he can’t jerk off over you. 

Late nights on a stakeout all alone, later nights sitting in the empty station had him browsing his collection of homemade pornography, amateur photos of you that have him spilling all over his fist in ten minutes flat.

“Yeah, fuck baby I did. But…” He groans just thinking about how often he sneaks looks at them, how they’re hidden in a false drawer in his desk, in a little tin container in the glovebox.

“But what?” You prompt, putting your hands over his and guiding one back up to your tits so he can pinch and squeeze at your nipples.

“The pictures are gorgeous, your body is just fuckin’ rocking, but I think it might be time to take some new ones.” You can feel it when he licks his lips, tongue brushing your cheek as he kisses you, “My cock’s so hard for you baby.”

You chuckle a little then, turn in his embrace so you can face him, so you can see how dark his eyes have gotten for you, how big those pupils have blown with lust.

“How do you want me?” You ask, letting the robe slip away from your body and pool around your ankles.

He’s entranced with you, with the way the fireplace crackles softly, the way the glow from the soft flames lick up your body.

He wants to lick up your body.

“However you want, just…” He doesn’t know where to look, so he looks everywhere. Doesn’t know where to touch, so he touches everywhere too. “Just let me come all over you when we’re done?”

“Oh, it’s going to be like that is it?” You grin, sinking down to your knees, unbuttoning his flannel on your way, “Want to see me covered in it?”

“Yeah.” He breathes, takes the cigarette back from you, sucks down the nicotine to give him some edge, some bit of control. Tonight is going to be long, going to be slow. He wants to take his time with you, has plans for you.

Plans that short circuit in his brain when you sit back on your heels and pull his cock out of his jeans, giving it a good steady stroke.

“Want to see me lick it up?” You bring your lips to his shaft and kiss it, little kisses on the vein which throbs up to the head. You tongue the slit and he pushes his hips in your face, smokes and smokes and smokes some more.

“Fuck – ” He fists your hair and yanks your head back just the littlest bit, just so that the fat head of his cock rests heavy on your tongue, drool already wanting to slide down your chin. He pulls you off of him ever so gently, and bends down until he’s on his knees too, until he’s caging your body underneath his with a breathy, “Please.”

You grin and lay back on the carpeting near the fireplace, already settling, already getting ready for a good fucking. Your knees part and he moans in the back of his throat for the way he rubs his dick through your folds, not quite pushing in, not just yet.

“You’re big.” You hum, tapping out a little rhythm onto his shoulders, your body moving to the beat of the sexy record you had softly playing in the background. “I like when you cover me.”

“Makes kissing you a bitch though.” He grumbles as he has to hunch himself down to meet your lips.

“Kiss me a little before fucking me then, get your fix.” You push his shoulders down so your faces are level with one another, eyes closing again to simply surrender yourself to the incredible feeling of your husband around you. “Let me get my fix of you.”

He hums into your mouth, kisses you slowly. One of his hands cups your neck, caresses your head. His hands are so fucking big, the way they span nearly the whole half of your face, the way they’re so warm. Your noses bump together as you breathe in time, as you suck the breath straight from his lungs, bitter and so so good.

Your bodies move together, sweat together ever so slightly. Being by the fire has you warmed up, being near Flip has you burning up. His jeans chafe your calves a little but you only moan for it, moan for him. He sucks on your tongue and you bite at his lips, your hands squeezing him, holding him close.

“You taste good.” Flip kisses you, licks across your teeth, “Like strawberries.”

“I made shortcake for dessert, thought I might spray whipped cream all over, have you lick me up.” You explain, and he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder and groans loudly.

“Oh fuck – fuck that’s – yes we should do that.” He says immediately, stumbles over your words as his dick rubs against your legs, makes him whine.

“Okay, okay but fuck me first, I’m gonna lose it if I don’t get your cock in me.” You laugh at how eager he is, joy bubbling up in your chest. You’re love-drunk for him, for Flip, and it makes your pussy wet that he’s the same.

You shove your hands under the waistband of his jeans then, and he gets the hint. Standing up for just as long as it takes to shuck off his jeans and socks, he lays on top of you nice and naked, as nude as you. He kisses you as he lines himself up, your legs parting for him, giving him room to shove himself into your space, into you.

“Ohh fuck ketsl.” He breathes out, face buried into your cheek.

That first hard thrust has you melting underneath him, has you wanting to do nothing but starfish out and be the pillow-princess you were. But he starts slow, a rolling buildup of pleasure that soon has you craving more.

You can tell he’s holding back, but you don’t want him to. You don’t, you want to hear the slap of his balls against your ass, want to hiccup out moans and sobs for his cock.

“Honey you can go faster.” You encourage, and he groans in appreciation, bites and suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, sinks his teeth right into you.

“God I’m gonna come so hard, and then I’m gonna eat some of this delicious fuckin’ dinner you cooked up and I’m gonna fuck you again and come in you again.” The faster his hips go, the more inclined he is to talk, and soon he’s rocking into you hard and rough, he’s scrambling to get your legs every which way.

“My pussy’s been so empty all day, fill me up!” You toss your head back and accept the pounding for everything it was, let yourself go boneless, relaxing for him so he can thrust in deeper, his cock feeling like it’s a mile long inside your body.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” Flip asks around gulps of air as he brings your ankle over his shoulder.

“No I – oh fuck! – I waited, wanted to wait for you.” You answer honestly, smiling around a gasp for how he looks so fucking horny about that.

“You’re good to me, such a good girl – my good fucking girl fuck your cunt’s tight.” He grits, and you laugh, laugh before you’re moaning too loud to do anything other than hold on.

“I – I – oh yeah, yeah honey.” You drip praise from your tongue the way sweat from the ends of his feathered hair drips onto your tits.

He fucks you there by the fireplace for a while, every so often rearranging your legs, your bodies, your guts, so that he can get in deeper. He feels incredible, his big dick splitting you in half, the friction blazing the walls of your pussy, throbbing inside you.

He alternates between fucking you on your back, and rolling you onto your hands and knees, onto your side, pulling you onto his lap. He wants you every which way, wants you deep deep deep. You wind up back on your back, because he hates not looking at you, hates not seeing your face.

He’s working hard to fuck you right, and you yelp out in pleasure when he pinches your clit, nibbling on your ear as your body trembles underneath him.

“Flip! Flip I’m – harder please, fuck me harder!” You beg, a hand so tight in his hair, the other smacking his chest.

“I can feel it oh fuck I can feel how close you are,” He bites hard against your jaw, sloppy, so wet, tongue and lips swollen as your chest heaves. “Squeezing me so tight, don’t worry ketsl I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh I missed you yesyesyes -- !” Your back arches up as he spits into his hand and spreads his fingers through your folds, presses down on where his cock pistons fast into your pussy.

“Should’ve come to the – Christ – station, I would’ve fucked you hard, fucked you right in front of everyone, make them watch you come on my cock.” He’s babbling, not really meaning the shit he’s saying – but it’s sexy to think about it, to think about everyone looking at you on display, listening to the sounds you’re making right now.

“Phil!” You shout out his name, and he doesn’t pull his hand away, doesn’t stop fucking you. “Phil I’m – !”

You shout out a strangled cry then, because fuck oh how your orgasm crashes through you, how your body shudders and jolts under him, how your brain goes hazy and foggy with pleasure. Stars and spots dance across your vision as the world moves in slow motion, shocks rippling down your spine, curling your toes.

“I’m right here.” He pants, fucking you through it, cock dragging through your gushing cunt as he tries to get you to scream, “Come on honey I’m right here.”

He spits into your mouth hard, and you swallow it, swallow it like your cunt swallows his cock, even as it throbs and pulses around him, coating his dick is so much come, the wet slide loud in the quiet of the living room.

“I’m gonna come.” Flip groans then suddenly, the feeling too much, tipping him over.

“In me or on me?” You ask all dreamy-like, slowly slowly coming back to reality.

“Yes.” He grunts.

“No!” You laugh and playfully swat at his side as his hips take advantage of you going rag-doll limp under him, aftershocks still shivering through your thighs. “No you have to pick, the pictures, remember?”

“Ugh fuck, ketsl -- can’t – I can’t – ” He’s too wound up, so close, his stomach tensing, balls tight, panting in your ear and trying to kiss your cheek, your neck, but only getting as far as moaning against your throat.

“Come in me a little and then pull out?” You suggest, and he seems to like that idea because soon he’s cursing loud in your ear, punching his fist against the shag from the feeling as his hips push you so hard that your body chafes against the carpeting.

He never comes as loudly as you do, but he does cry out your name as he rolls his hips against yours for a minute. He could stay in there forever, inside your pussy. He knows it, you know it, and on any other evening you’d be content to let him fill you to the brim with it, but this was a special night.

“Close your eyes, be careful.” Flip mumbles as he winces, pulling his cock out of you and moving as quickly as his jelly body can handle to let hot ropes of come splatter all over your face.

He loves to come on your tits, and some accidentally gets on there anyway, but there’s something extra dirty about the way it clings to your nose, your mouth, your cheek. It’s so hot and you resist the urge to lick your lips, not until he says, not until he’s got the camera.

He kneels over your chest and tugs at his cock, milks himself for any last droplet of come that he can, before sighing, exhausted. He still hadn’t eaten, and you almost want to bring this up to him, but he’s looking at you still with such a deep dark desire, that you don’t want to interrupt him.

“Stay like that, right like that.” He says eventually, the two of you giggling in the post-orgasm bliss, as he tries to stand up on wobbly knees.

“Mmm’kay.” You hum, let your fingers swirl around the come that slid down your chin and dripped into the pit of your throat.

Your eyes are closed, but you can hear Flip come back with a camera, can hear him checking the shutter, checking to see it’s loaded up with film. When he comes back, he’s laying down between your legs again, kissing your calves.

“Spread your legs,” He swallows hard as he raises the camera up to his eye, his big hands holding it steady, “Push my come back in your pussy, let me see it drink it up.”

You grin, bite the inside of your cheek as you lift a pleasure-weak hand to down between your legs, feel for the thick come that’s started to ooze out of you. You’re impressed with how much he came in you before pulling out – but then again you’re not surprised. Flip always had a big load.

“Like that?” You ask breathlessly as you can hear him taking photo after photo.

“Just like that honey-bunny, finger yourself with it.” His baritone ghosts your pussy and it clenches from the warmth of his breath, clenches around your fingers. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this ketsl, you got somethin’ you want to tell me? You one of them playboy bunnies while I’m at work?”

“Yeah, I’ve got Hef’s number right up here.” You moan as your fingers slide through your folds, sopping wet from your own come. He snaps another photo of it mixing, mingling there inside of you.

“I oughta kick his ass, seeing you like this. No one gets to see you like this but me.” Flip puts the camera down for a second to kiss the inside of your knee.

He smacks a kiss to the other one, before crawling up your body, taking photos along the way.

“And the poor guy over at the fotomart.” Your arms stretch over your head, pushing your tits out for him and his camera.

“He’s seen worse,” Flip leans down to suck your nipples into his mouth one at a time, getting them stiff in the firelight, smacking them to get them flushed before he takes his photos, “And I promise he ain’t poor for it.”

“Oh here – get this one.” You say as you pinch your nipples for him, hold them and tug on them while his mouth waters through the lens. His stomach growls then, and you both have a little laugh about it when you suddenly remember, “Go get the whipped cream?”

“Yeah, just – some lick up my come some more first.” He pinches your nose and gives your face an affectionate shake.

“Okay, do you – Phil!” You grin against his lips as he tackles you then, camera put down carefully as he rolls you on top of him, kisses you all over.

“Sorry, you’re just so pretty.” He says as an explanation, and you roll your eyes at how much you adore him and his sex-blotchy, reddened face.

“You go get the fuckin’ whipped cream, it’s in the door.” You push yourself off of him, settling onto your stomach.

He grumbles and groans loudly, dramatically, before getting up and leaving the living room with a smile.

“Nice ass!” You shout after him, and you can hear the deep rumble of his chuckle from all the way there.

 When he comes back a minute or two later with the redid-whip icey cold from the fridge, he’s already aching for you all over again.

“Come take a seat on my thigh, let me get close to you ketsl.” Flip sits cross-legged on the carpet. You notice he’s grabbed a fresh pair of underwear from the laundry basket and you shake your head. He always did complain that the carpet itched.

He hands you the cannister, pops the top off and you immediately get to work while he fumbles with his camera. You can’t help yourself, you slowly grind your hips against his thigh, slowly working yourself up. His muscles shine with your slick but he’s not looking, he doesn’t look anywhere other than you.

“Oh Flip,” You sigh as you take a hold of it properly, rubbing your cheek all over it, “It’s so big, just like your cock.”

“What’s bigger?” He chews on his cheek, snaps some photos.

“Your cock is -- your cock is way bigger, I can barely fit my hands around it.” You say, shaking the whipped cream, getting it really aerated in the cannister, getting it all mixed up just the way the man on the commercial told you. You wondered if he knew how many people used those directions for their own pleasure?

“Shake it up faster baby, let me see you sweat.” He says evenly, and you can feel his cock hardening through his underwear for you again.

“Oh,” You moan as you ride his thigh, as you let your tits bounce from the speed which you shake up the can, “Oh Flip, I – I think it’s gonna blow.”

He nods, and you tilt the nozzle to let ribbons of the sweet cream coat your chest and face, a cartoonish comeshot captured on film. You spray the cream and ride his thigh, and he shoves a hand into your pussy to get you off again, making you fall forward a little just from the sensitivity of it all.

You come around a mouthful of whipped cream, and Flip puts the camera down so he can get both his hands on you properly, holds you close. He gets sticky with the whipped cream too, but he doesn’t give a shit.

“You’re too good to me.” He whispers against your cleavage where he’s licking up the whipped cream, not wanting any of it to go to waste.

“I like that you like looking at me.” You hum, carding a hand through his hair while he breathes you in, cleans you up. “I like that you don’t use those magazines.”

You had nothing against the magazines, but there was definitely something special about being the only one he wanted, about being the only woman who got him off.

“Why should I, when I’ve got my very own centerfold right here?” He looks up at you from between your tits, whipped cream all in his goatee.

You sweetly tug on his ear, before asking for a shower. He goes happily, so handsome under the warm spray.

And then like as if it were every other night, you find yourselves smiling at one another behind glasses of water and Coors, sitting in your pajamas at the table with a perfectly heated dinner. You didn’t care that it was late, not really.

Not when you and your man were so good about building up an appetite.

                                                   -------------------

Tagging some pals :)  @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler  @whiskey-bumblebee @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker  @goodboybensolo  @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @zimmerxman @okk--maaan @flapjacques @aweirdlookingtree @callmemania-pls @theold-ultraviolence @og-selene @pinkmoontribe-blog

[ofmermaidsandmarauders]

the road less taken looks real good now

hope you enjoy this attempt at taylor swift/evermore inspired Jily smut!!

read on AO3 or FFN

If you had asked Lily where she thought she would see James Potter again, the last place she would have said was running into him as she turned the corner on her way to the little market next to the cinema. And yet, he was exactly who she collided with, his arms catching her just before she fell back and her bottom landed on the hard cement.

"Alright, Evans?" His cheeky grin and rosy cheeks drew her attention first, her eyes then sliding up that slightly crooked nose to meet his gaze. It was cold outside, but that wasn't what caused the shiver that ran down her spine, his eyes alight with that same mischievousness they held when she first met James at eleven years old, almost ten years ago now.

"Yeah, I'm just fine," she reassured him softly as her hands gave his shoulders a slight squeeze, "thank you."

'It's… wow. It's really good to see you," James admitted, the right side of his mouth lifting just a little higher than the left as his gaze raked over her body, setting her upright so his arms could fall pathetically back to his sides. "Like, really good to see you."

Lily thought of that night after graduation, the memory of their legs curled together under her bed sheets causing another chill to run down her spine. They had agreed to keep in touch, explore where this future between them could go, but then apprenticeships and family needs cropped up, too much time and space passed and the idea of James and Lily finding a future together had passed by, a missed opportunity.

Looking up at James' warm smile and tall stature, she wondered for a brief moment what their lives would have been like should they have traveled that road together. Would she be feeling so lonely this holiday season? Or would there have been a happier alternative in her path?

"It's good to see you too, James. I was just nipping over to the market for a few items to make Christmas cookies while I'm home for the holidays. Wait, wait, wait…" Lily paused, not even noticing that they had picked up their paces, walking towards the market as if on autopilot together. "What are you doing here in Bamburgh?"

James peered down at her, shoving his hands into his pockets as he pondered over his answer.

"My parents passed away about eight years ago now. Usually I spend the holidays with the lads, or with Remus' family, or just with Sirius, but with the two of them finally getting their shit together and coupling up, it felt a bit more like intruding. My parents always had a little cabin out this way on the coast, but we never visited much. I remembered coming here as a young boy and thought I'd try to clean it up and just have a solitary Christmas."

"Oh." This was the only thing Lily could think of to say, her mind going blank as she tried to process the fact that James Potter's family had owned a home in her small town, and yet the two had never run into one another until that day on the Hogwarts Express, his little body barrelling into hers at lightning speed. Her mouth quirked up at the memory and she peered up at him now. No, he was no longer that little boy. He was not even that boy of eighteen, the one who had whispered sweet nothings into her ear and promised her the world if they could just find a way to make it work.

She had always assumed that if he had meant what he said, he'd have found a way to make it work. Her own insecurities had interfered in her own efforts, causing her to wait patiently until she had to finally accept that James hadn't truly felt as strongly as she had led herself to believe.

And that was okay. Lily had moved on after a little time licking her wounds. The rejection had only stung for a short while.

"Hey, I have to head back but… you should stop by later if you've got some extra Christmas cookies," James told her, his hand reaching up to gently hold her elbow, guiding her to face him once again. "And just because I'd really like to see you again."

"A-alright," Lily stammered, surprising herself by her own quick agreement. "I'd really like that too."

"Great, hold on. Let me just…" James maneuvered and dug around in his pockets until he found some scrap of paper in his wallet, his mouth moving silently as an address slowly etched itself on the little white scrap. He handed it over with a cheeky grin, his impressive display of wandless magic completed.

"I'll be by later this evening," Lily told him, fingers grazing his own as she took the slip of paper, pocketing it slowly. She hadn't been expecting the warm zing of pleasure that shot up her arm just from their fingers brushing together in the cold.

James backed away, grinning brightly as he rounded the corner once more and she was able to head towards the market once more, her mind now cloudy with thoughts of what ifs.

______________________________

"Hello?" Lily called out as she trudged up the driveway, the keys to her mom's car jingling in one hand, a plastic-wrapped tray of various cookies held in the other. One upside to being muggleborn was definitely the additional travel options, Lily thought to herself. "James, open the door! My hands are full!"

"Hey there!" James' voice rang out from the left side of the house, appearing just a second after she registered where he was. "Sorry, I was doing some work clearing out the weeds in the garden. Hard to do with layers of snow covering the area, but luckily for me, my parents got this place knowing it was set away from the muggles so I can still use my wand." James wiped his hands off on his dark jeans before gesturing for her to follow him inside.

Lily was having trouble wrapping her mind around this grown up version of James. He came across as so responsible and mature, though what else should she have expected? She scolded herself for expecting that he would still be that same eighteen year old she had started to envision a life with.

"These look incredible," James complimented as he gently slid the tray out of her hand and carried it into the kitchen.

"James, it smells incredible in here," she breathed out as the scents of various spices filled her nose. She could see the small pot on the stovetop and the oven light was on, indicating that there was a dish being kept warm inside.

"I just made us a spiced carrot and lentil soup, and a small roast chicken and vegetables. You brought the real goods though," James informed her, a wide grin on his face as he silently waved his wand, conjuring two table settings, the bottle of wine already uncorked that poured itself two healthy glasses of wine. "I'm sorry, I assumed you'd join me for dinner. I hope that's alright."

"It's perfect. It really does smell good. I'm sure it tastes great too," Lily reassured him as she slid her coat off, peeking around before hanging it on a small coat hook by the side door. "It's so cozy in here, not what I would have expected from a Potter family vacation home."

James laughed softly at the joke, offering her the glass of wine before shrugging. "It's not big at all. That's probably why we didn't come here often. Mum loved the extravagance of the larger homes and resorts. Dad was the one who liked the quiet bliss that the coast offered. I think this was one of his ideas. I didn't get it when I was little… but I do now."

Lily let the words settle in, taking a small sip of the wine.

"I was bored the few times we came here as a child. I had so much energy, y'know? I needed a friend to play with and something to keep me entertained at all times. Now that I'm older I crave the quiet sometimes. Everything gets to just be so loud and I can manage but I just need a few minutes to catch my breath sometimes."

James' words kept Lily quiet, letting the thoughts flicker through her mind as she imagined this new James and tried to merge it with the James she knew. "Yeah, I get that," she finally said.

He set about serving the soup and then carving the chicken and plating some of that as well. She watched in fascination as he did things the muggle way, a small smile on her face as he flitted around the kitchen expertly.

"I lost my wand at Sirius' for a week about six years ago. It was a nightmare," he explained as if answering a question she didn't ask. "I couldn't conjure anything, couldn't just make food in an instant, but I think I learned how nice it can be to get your hands dirty and make something on your own. I still use magic to help me out now, though."

Lily laughed at her cheeky grin and assisted him with refilling their glasses just before settling into the seat he pointed to. Settled across from him at the table, Lily had a brief flash of what life could have been.

The two passed through their meal, casually chatting and checking in with their current status. James was between "experiences," trying to find the right next move in the wizarding world that would fulfill his desires to do something good. Lily was working with some of London's most skilled healers, researching a new potion that would cure effects of dark magic that had never been explored before.

"See, that is something I've always loved about you, Evans! You could do anything you want in this world, make enormous amounts of money doing private materialistic work, and instead you want to make a true difference. Just brilliant!" James complimented before shoveling in a mouthful of chicken, finishing off his meal.

Lily's cheeks flushed, choosing to ignore the first part of his compliment. "Well, thank you. I think I'm a little selfish though. The notoriety if we can pull it off means I'll be guaranteed a job anywhere I want in the future. But thank you."

James boldly reached across the small table and took her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He didn't drop it after squeezing, instead just holding it across the table. "You can stay, can't you? For a bit longer?"

Lily nodded quickly, not wanting this night to end. She wasn't entirely sure what they were going to do, but just being in James' presence was a warm balm on her soul. Being around her family could be draining, especially her sister and her sister's husband, and their preteen son. Ever since their father had passed, Lily's mom worked overtime at the holidays to smooth things over between her girls, trying to keep her family together.

James was offering Lily an escape from the constant stress and darkness she felt visiting her childhood home. It was the reprieve she didn't even know she wanted until it had been offered.

"I have nowhere else to be," she explained before realizing how cold that sounded. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."

James grinned at this, using his free hand to wave his wand and clear the dishes from in front of them, the tray of cookies suddenly appearing unwrapped on the small table. She grinned up at him before reaching for a peanut butter ball, his own settling on a gingerbread man.

He used his grip on her hand to ease her out of her seat, guiding her towards the little sitting area that he had near the back of the house. It was a small room, two bookcases settled on either side of the large window that framed the lake. There was a small couch and coffee table, a rug underneath that made the room feel warmer somehow. The fireplace sat on the left of the couch, a small blaze already going, built up by a flick of James' wand to warm the room just a bit more.

Lily was unsure what to do with herself before deciding that she wanted to just enjoy this space with James for a short while, so she let her feet carry her to the couch, curling them beneath her as she sat. Her body was aimed towards the empty space beside her, waiting patiently for James to take the hint and fill the seat. When he did so, her grin grew that much brighter.

"If you had asked me earlier what my plans were for tonight, this is the last thing I would have expected," he admitted, his cheeks tinged pink, though she blamed that warmth on the fire. His eyes met hers and she felt her own cheeks flush, though that warmth could be blamed solely on James' burning gaze.

"Me either," she told him softly, a shaky hand bringing the wine glass to her lips. "But I'm glad that we're both here."

Lily licked her lips and she watched as James' eyes dropped to her mouth as her tongue poked out just slightly. She heard the hitch in his breath and felt a slow burning in the pit of her stomach mixed with anxiety, wondering if this was going to end up being a mistake.

"I... '' Lily stopped herself with a shake of her head, glancing up at James nervously. His hand reached up to push back a lock of hair that had fallen out of her long braid, letting his fingers tentatively trail down her cheek, thumb tracing along her jaw. Her breath was caught in her throat and for a split second she wasn't sure if she would ever breathe again. "I'm leaving on Tuesday. I have to leave immediately after the holiday to return to work. I… I can't stay."

"I know," he breathed out, face inching closer to hers. "I know you have to be back, but we could… this could be just a thing we do. Right?"

The husky tone of his voice was driving Lily mad. She wanted to lean forward and accept whatever was about to happen, but she stopped herself and tried to let rational thoughts process in her mind. She knew the hurt she had felt last time they parted, but she hadn't been prepared for that rejection. This time she could protect herself, and her heart. Lily would know exactly what was happening this time and could stop herself from getting in too deep.

Yes, it would be just fine this time. They both knew this was just for the weekend. Something to get them through the holidays until they returned to their individual lives.

Lily leaned forward the rest of the way, feeling the way that James' fingers clenched against her jaw in response to her lips meeting his. They hadn't kissed in almost ten years and yet it was like riding a bicycle with how easily she fell back into a rhythm. Her head tilted just slightly to avoid nudging his glasses, her mouth opening beneath his for only a second before James pulled away.

She felt her mouth forming a slight pout, but James just smirked as he took the wine glasses and set them onto the coffee table before letting his hands slip down her waist until he was gripping her hips tightly.

"Only for the weekend," Lily spoke firmly, her fingers itching to touch him again. She had memorized his body at eighteen, let it be a memory of hers that lingered in the back of her mind for those nights when she felt so lonely and wanted to conjure up a dream that would keep her warm at night, hand shoved into her pants as she frantically tried to remember what it had felt like to be so cherished.

Over the years, the memory of him had faded and felt icky to use as she grew older. Lily had always tried to imagine what he would look like now, but as her hands slid beneath his shirt, nothing had prepared her for this adult James.

His own hands slid beneath her shirt, his thumbs stroking at the ridges along her spine. "You're too skinny, I'm afraid you'll shatter in my arms."

Lily pulled away to laugh at his comment, her face lighting up as the tension between them broke. There was something about James that made her feel at ease, even when he was being serious.

"I'm not that fragile. You can be rough with me," her voice was breathy as she leaned in once more, a groan falling from James' lips as she spoke.

"You can't say shit like that to me, Evans," James muttered darkly, his fingers pressing roughly against her spine to bring her closer. Lily took it a step further, climbing into his lap so that her thighs were framing his own. Their bodies aligned tightly together, faces only inches apart.

"And why not?" she whispered, lightly kissing his lower lip, allowing a faint smile to spread across her mouth. A sound that Lily could only describe as a growl came from him as he fervently kissed her, hands now sliding down to grip her arse. This was the answer to her question. A passionate, anxious, feverish kiss.

Her own hands slid from his biceps to his shoulder to his hair, gripping it tightly as if it were an anchor, not allowing him to move away. Though, it didn't seem that he had any intention to.

Lily felt like her body was on fire everywhere his hands touched. They were roaming over her frantically, like he was afraid that she would slip away at any given moment. They finally settled back on her bottom, giving it a firm squeeze before guiding her hips to slant over his just so. She could feel the hard press of him against her core, feel the way that her body ached in reaction to that gentle cant of his hips, lifting slightly to meet her own subtle thrusts.

"Lily, please," he begged, letting a hand slip to the hem of her thick sweater, tugging at it gently until she nodded, allowing her arms to lift up so he could tug it over her head. A few wisps of hair fell from her braid at the sudden friction of material, though her body felt cooled off by the slight chill in the air. Lily peeked over and realized the fire had died down again, though she was distracted once more as James' fingers unclasped her bra from behind and the straps slid down her arms with his guidance. His hands quickly replaced the cups, her nipples hardening beneath the rough texture of his palms.

A soft moan slipped from her lips as his fingers began to stroke in even circles, slowly tightening until they were tugging at her nipples in that way she liked.

"James," her voice was a harsh croak as she leaned forward, capturing his mouth in another kiss, letting her hands slip beneath his own shirt. She pulled it up, separating from his mouth only to pull it off. Her tongue probed at his mouth, wanting to taste every inch of him. If he was desperate to feel, she was desperate to taste.

James hands' never stopped their assault on her breasts, palming and tugging at her nipples until she was squeezing her thighs together, only his own were getting in the way. Instead, she began to slowly press herself down against his length, needing to feel something more than what he was doing. One of his hands moved from her breast up to cup the back of her head, his fingers probably messing up her braid, but she didn't quite mind.

Lily felt the groan that he let out, not just against her mouth, but beneath her hands that were pressed to his own chest. That firm chest that had only strengthened over time. A shiver ran down Lily's spine as his mouth pulled back from hers with a tug to her bottom lip using his teeth. Those teeth that scraped down her neck, sucking gently and peppering kisses until he reached her chest. His tongue poked out and circled once, twice, around the flesh until he sucked at her nipple. She gasped, both hands gripping the back of his head, keeping him pressed there as she arched up towards his mouth.

"James, please," she whimpered, her voice hoarse as she straddled one of his thighs, trying to press herself against it through her thin leggings. She knew that she was soaked through, desperate for his touch.

"What do you need?" he asked after pulling away from her chest, letting the hand that had been in her hair travel down her back and around then around to her stomach until it reached the waistband of her leggings. His fingers moved just beneath it, slowly inching towards the one place that was taking up all of her focus.

"Please," Lily breathed out, lifting her hips up to try to make room for his fingers, but he insisted on teasing her, letting them just stroke against the front of her pelvis, not even sliding beneath the thin silk of her underwear. "James, please. I need to feel you inside me."

James choked on a moan, bringing a smile to Lily's lips that quickly turned into a soft "oh" as his fingers slid lower and pressed against her through the fabric, index and middle finger rubbing in small circles. It wasn't enough, but it was more than she had a minute ago and that was progress.

"Oh," she breathed out again, clutching the back of his head once more as she tried to move her hips, though he steadied her with his free hand, keeping her in place. Lily hated how needy she felt, how much her body craved the feeling of his own.

James pulled his hand out suddenly, her face falling once more at the loss of contact. He only kissed her, distracting her long enough until he was suddenly standing, hands holding onto her arse for support as he began to carry her towards his bedroom. Lily began to pepper kisses along his jaw and neck, too distracted to notice which way he was walking them.

She squealed in delight as he tossed her down onto the bed, his own laugh bouncing off of the walls before he grew serious once more, climbing over her on the bed. His body encased hers, providing a shelter from the cold as he let one hand slide down to her hip, pushing her pants lower until she took the hint and assisted him in getting them off. Her own hands then went to the button on his jeans, pulling it open so that she could push the material down his legs, letting her feet finish the job until they were on the floor somewhere by the side of the bed.

Their breaths were heavy as he leaned down and kissed her once more, left hand sliding beneath her panties once more until a single finger was pressing inside of her.

"Fuck, Lily. You're so wet." He sounded incredulous as he began to slowly curl that finger and then pull it out before pushing it back in. His finger moved in slow strokes as she began to pant, lifting her hips in time with the pushing, lowering them with the pulling.

"It's for you," Lily whimpered, clutching onto his shoulders as she tried to get him to give her more. She just needed more of him. "James, please. Stop teasing me!"

"Anything for you, Evans," his cheeky grin made her giggle as he slid his briefs down his body, kicking them off somewhere before kneeling before her, spreading her legs with both of his hands. "Fuck, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Lily keened at the compliment, her lips already flushed from activity, though she was sure they'd be red at his words.

"I'm - I take a contraceptive. You don't need to… We're covered," she finally admitted, tugging him back down by wrapping her spread legs around his waist so that their bodies were aligned once more. Lily let her hips lift until the tip of his cock was gently pressing inside of her, slipping out as she lowers her hips again. James seems frozen for a moment and this scares her, but he must see the look on her face because he lowers his mouth to hers and just kisses her until that anxiety is quelled.

When it's obvious that she's putty in his hands once again, nerves calmed down by the soothing action of his lips and tongue, his hips press forward until he's filling her. It's agonizingly slow until their hips are tight together and he breaks their kiss to let out a loud groan against her mouth.

"You're… Fuck, I… You…" James is speechless and this makes Lily giggle fiercely until he's pulling out halfway and then pressing back in, as if he can't bear to even be separated from her for that much. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you, Evans."

"Oh, gods, James," Lily moans as she pressed her hands into his shoulder blades, wanting his body to press into hers completely. She wants to feel every inch of him against her, wants to memorize the way he feels as he's inside her fully. This ache that she's had since seeing him again feels like it's starting to be sated.

As if something has broken inside his body, James begins to thrust in and out, his hips moving at their own pace. Lily feels like her body is connected to his by a string, because everytime he goes to move, her hips are there to meet his at each thrust.

"Nobody but you, Evans. Nobody has ever felt this good. Fuck, nobody. Fuck," James rambled, each thrust feeling like it's not enough and too much all at once for her. Lily wants to come, wants to feel her world fall apart, so she slips a hand between their bodies and reaches down to where their hips meet. Before she can accomplish this, his hand is there, pushing hers away.

"No, this is mine to give," he whispered, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth as he let his fingers find where they met, rubbing small circles against her clit as she felt a tidal wave of pleasure wash over her body in waves, that pit in her stomach tightening as she tried to just reach that point of pleasure.

James seemed to understand what her body needed because he continued to thrust in a way that was getting her to that point until her toes curled and her heels were digging into his hips harshly.

"James, oh, oh," her voice was like a siren's call because within an instant he was meeting her in a wave of pleasure, his back arched as he groaned and spilled inside of her.

"Lily," was the only thing he whispered before giving her another kiss, pulling out of her body in one smooth motion, using wandless magic to summon a warm towel and a wet washcloth. Just as he took care of her during the act, James made sure to take gentle care of her in the clean up, just enough, before allowing her to use the bathroom to finish up.

Lily took one look in the mirror, her braid now half pulled out of its form and eyeliner smudged beneath her lids. She giggled to herself as she used the toilet and then wet another washcloth to wipe under her eyes. Lily dug around until she found a comb and was able to brush out her hair into soft waves, letting them fall down her back.

She felt self conscious reentering the room, though the wide grin on James' face as he gestured for her to join him in the bed washed that feeling away, replacing it with a warmth that his grin always seemed to bring.

"That sure was something, Evans," James teased, leaning over once she had joined him again to press a soft kiss to her mouth. "You sure are something."

Lily could only let out a breathy giggle as she laid on her back for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around what the fuck had just happened. Sure, she knew what was going to happen, but somehow they had ended up naked and in bed together much faster than she realized. There hadn't been any time for thinking, and that was honestly the best feeling.

"Hey, you okay?" James' voice broke through her ocean of thoughts. She felt the corners of her mouth tilt up and she nodded quickly, a glow overtaking her as his hands slid down to her hips, bringing her closer to his body until she could tuck her face into the crook of his neck. Lily cocooned herself into his body, letting him lift a sheet over her.

"I'm okay," she finally responded, the index finger on her left hand circling around his nipple, though she wasn't fully paying attention to her actions. "I'm good."

"You looked like you regretted it, for a minute there," James sounded nervous as he admitted to this and she peeked up at him from her hiding spot, watching the nerves in his eyes disappear as she offered up a genuine smile, letting her mouth press gently to his jaw.

"No regrets, it was good. You were good." Lily's voice sounded assured and it was a surprise to her how comfortable she felt laying here with James.

"Not even one?"

"Nope, not a single one. It was good, James."

James seemed content at that, the hum he released vibrating against her cheek which had returned to his solid chest. The pair laid contentedly for some time before James broke them out of their reverie. His hands had been sliding up and down her back, fingers tracing along the ridges of her spine until she was almost ready to fall asleep.

"I regret that we never made it work. That we didn't try harder. I should've tried harder for you," James told Lily, letting his hands continue in their soothing patterns on her skin. His voice sounded pained and Lily wasn't too sure how she wanted to answer.

I wish the same? It's fine, don't worry about it? I should've tried harder but my crippling anxiety and insecurities got the best of me until I gave up on the idea of us?

No - definitely not that last one.

Instead, Lily settled for an uncommitted hum instead, just letting him interpret what he wanted from that.

"I'm serious, Lily. You're the one person I've never been able to get past. Everyone dims compared to you. I meant what I said back in those days, and I should've tried harder to show you that."

As if dipping her head into a pensieve, Lily was taken back to the last time they had been curled up in bed like this:

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life, Lily." James' words captured her heart as he slid his fingers down her body, tracing the curves of her thighs before pulling them around his waist so he could have her body wrapped around his own.

"Stop it," Lily admonished, cheeks burning from the compliment.

"I mean it. I've loved you for years, probably since the day I met you. Maybe even before we met. I was made to love you. I can't imagine a world without you in it. I can't imagine my life without you in it, Lily Evans."

"James, you're just saying that because I let you have sex with me."

"No, that's not true! I mean it," James pouted as he spoke, only smiling once Lily kissed the pout away. "When we leave here, wherever we go, I want to make this work. I want to marry you one day, have you take my last name, become a family. I want to be a dad and have kids with you. I want a life with you, Lily Evans. You're it for me."

Despite his words, James had never sought her out after that final encounter. They had never even spoken after that day, separated by time and space and people who wanted to keep them apart. An impending war, one that was completed just a month after graduation. One that James had been ready to throw himself into, and one Lily had been scared to join but knew it was the only way to move forward.

The day she had met with Dumbledore and he told her that the fight was over, that they had won, he provided her with a top notch recommendation to one of the world's most well-renowned potioneers. That month had been a rush of emotions as she prepared to battle (and lose her life) only to come to terms with the fact that she no longer needed to. She had an entire future ahead of her and yet there she was, trying to figure out how she was supposed to spend a life she never thought she'd be entitled to have.

"Where'd you go just now?" James asked, stroking through her hair until he let his hands fall down to her lower back, slowly inching until he was gripping her bottom, pulling her tightly to him.

"I was just thinking about how long it's been since we last saw each other. How much you've changed." Lily's words were a lie and for a minute she thought he'd call her out on it, but he chose not to, instead letting his mouth move down to her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, fingers combing through his hair.

"Pulling you out of your own thoughts until you can think of nothing but me and you. Here. In this bed." James sounded firm as his mouth slowly kissed down to her chest. She moaned softly as he nipped the soft flesh on her breast before lapping at the mark, as if he was going to heal the pain she felt. His lips wrapped around her nipple, but Lily was still trying to get herself to think straight.

"I can hear your brain starting to smoke," James whispered before blowing over her breast, the peak hardening under his cool breath.

"Shut up," Lily muttered uselessly, having no brain power to think of something more insulting.

James just grinned and continued his assault on her body, moving lower and lower until her fingers were tangled in his hair and his mouth was working wonders.

Later, his cheek was pressed to her stomach, hand pressed to her hip so that she wouldn't go anywhere. Her fingers combed through James' hair slowly, trying to muster up the strength to ask him to move so she can get dressed and go home.

"Stay for the night," he whispered, as if reading her mind. "I miss holding you. Even if it's only for the weekend."

"Okay," the word was out of her mouth before she even realized that she wanted to agree. Lily knew that she was just complicating things, but the thought of leaving this warm bed and, more importantly, leaving James just hurt to think of. It was a problem that future Lily could deal with. This Lily wanted to bask in the afterglow of climaxes and cuddling with this James.

Somehow through the night, James and Lily shifted until their legs tangled together and he was spooning her against his chest. She woke up to the light shining through the windows, unclear of what time it was. Lily thought back to last night, the amount of kissing and touching that they had done. The thought made Lily's toes curl and she pulled his arms tighter around her body as she nuzzled into the pillow.

Her movements must have woken James because she felt chapped lips pressing little sucking kisses to the back of her neck and shoulder, fingers slowly gliding down her body until James was gripping onto her hips, pulling her back so that their bodies stayed connected where it counted. Lily let out a breathy sigh as he slipped his other hand in between her thighs, stroking at a lazy pace as he woke them both up. They stayed in that sleepy state, hips undulating against one another, fingers stroking inside of her until she had soaked his hand thoroughly.

James finally rolled Lily onto her back, climbing over her with a satisfied smile on his face despite the fact that nothing had truly happened yet this morning.

"Hi," he whispered, lips hovering just above hers.

"Hi," she murmured back, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

"I missed this," he admitted as he pressed the tip of his cock against her, slightly thrusting his hips as he teased her, letting the tension build. "I missed you."

"You missed the sex, you mean," Lily teased, fingers slowly climbing up his body as she spread her legs just that fraction of an inch, indicating she wanted him to move things along. He did as she silently requested, sliding inside of her at an agonizingly slow pace, wanting her to feel him as they connected.

"Well, duh, but I missed this. I missed waking up to you and spending time in this half dozed state where I can just appreciate you and it's just us two in the world." James' voice held a tone of sincerity that caused a chill to run up Lily's spine, her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as she tried not to let the emotion completely take over.

"I-" she broke off, just pressing her lips quickly to his.

"I want a do-over. I want to do this with you every morning. There's nobody else for me, Lily," he breathed against her mouth, picking up his pace just a bit as he moved his mouth to her ear. His hips continued to move slowly in and out of her at a stuttering pace as James whispered all of his filthy thoughts into her ear:

"You're so beautiful like this."

"I love the noise you make when I push inside of you just here.. Yes, that's it."

"Fuck, moan my name. That's my girl."

"I want you to feel me. I want you to know it's only me who can make you feel like this."

"I want to love you like this forever, Lily."

Despite James' chattiness, Lily can do nothing more than make keening noises for him. She is a mess of whimpers and purrs, moans and soft cries. James has whittled her down to this voiceless void, craving only the pleasure that he can bring her.

Finally, a single cry please comes from her lips and he is right there with her, sliding a hand down between them to rub her clit in small, erratic circles until she is riding the wave of her climax, mouthing at his neck as she holds back until she feels that he is also coming, and his name falls from her mouth in a helpless cry, one of her hands tangling up in his hair as she feels tears fill her eyes.

The thought of never getting this again just may be what breaks her.

______________________________

It's only later that evening when they're curled up on the loveseat together, despite the large couch settled just to their right with almost double the space, that Lily realizes how late it's getting. He had plied her full of food and distracted her with a leisurely walk around the lakeside, before Lily was fully able to recognize just how late it had gotten.

The clock has just chimed out eight little bells, and Lily wonders how much longer she should stay.

"Stay with me for the night. There's no need for you to rush out of here," James told her, his fingers stroking down along her spine. Despite the years that separated them, he still seemed to have the ability to read her thoughts when it counted, when she wasn't consciously trying to hide them.

"I really should be going home soon," she responded, sitting up so that she could actually look into his eyes, trying to figure out how she was going to pull herself away from his embrace. James had his calves hooked around hers, and his arms were wrapped around her lower back so that she was able to lay against him almost entirely.

"Why?"

The question surprised Lily more than she anticipated, mostly because she had expected an argument in response from him. She hadn't expected to have to rationalize her own thoughts, mostly because she didn't agree with what she was saying out loud.

"I have things to get done before my parent's Christmas dinner party. I know it's not until Tuesday but I have some work I planned to attend to even though I'm supposed to be enjoying the holiday. Up until now there wasn't much about it that was enjoyable, so I figured I'd at least be productive. And this is anything but productive."

"Those all sound like things that can wait. You just said it yourself, you don't have to do it but it was something to do. Just stay here. Relax. Enjoy your holiday." With each sentence, James placed a kiss along her neck, moving lower until he was at the juncture where her neck became her shoulder. "I want another night with you. I want you in my bed, with me."

"James…" Lily breathed out, though her hands were steadily climbing until they were settled into his hair.

"I don't want to wake up alone on Christmas Eve. Stay with me for one more night, Lily." The pleading tone to his voice would have been what did her in, had she not already been trying to convince herself to stay minutes ago. Between her own convincing, and his begging, she knew that she was giving in to his request.

"I don't want to wake up alone, either." Lily admitted, not specifying that it was more than just Christmas Eve that felt lonely to her. Lily was tired of feeling alone, and if James was offering a brief respite from that feeling, who was she to deny that?

______________________________

If Lily had to put a word to her concerns, she would use the word doubt. There was so much doubt running through her head. At every little touch James left as they ate dinner or nibbled on cookies or sipped at coca. At every compliment he threw her way while they walked around the lake shore or cooked dinner or laid in bed.

The only time she felt confident in what he said was when he was buried deep inside of her in the middle of the night, the stars twinkling in the night sky as they erased the outside world and focused on one another. This was the only time he mentioned a future with her, wanting to spend a life together. She wished he had the courage to mention these things in the light of day, when their bodies weren't pressed together beneath covers and hands desperate to feel soft skin beneath their touch.

They stayed up late into the night, relearning each others' bodies. Lily was committing James' new body to memory, her hands hungry for more of him. She wanted to remember every freckle and mole, every curve and sharp plane. These memories would need to get her through the next decade.

______________________________

Late the next morning, they both awoke slowly and lazily, their bodies still curled together from the heat of the previous night. Lily had woken just moments before James and took the time to appreciate his sleepy state before his eyes blinked open and a smile formed on his face when he registered what she was doing.

"G'morning," he whispered softly, pressing his thumb to her cheek and stroking it gently until it was tracing her full lower lip.

Lily pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb before sucking it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it gently. That teasing effort brought a groan to his lips before he was pulling it back, pressing a heated kiss to her mouth.

"You little minx," he growled, tickling her sides playfully.

How could he be so pleasant when she was leaving in just a short time?

"James," she whispered, and the tone of her voice had his body going numb, freezing up above her as his smile fell and she watched him shake his head.

"No," he replied, pressing his hips against hers, as if trying to remind her of what she could have if she agreed to stay.

"I have to go."

"Please," James pleaded, but she knew by the look on his face that he understood her mind was made up. This was a last ditch attempt at changing her mind. At trying to change the course of their separate lives.

"I have to."

The two of them stared at one another, noses brushing as their breaths mingled together in the morning sun pouring in through the window.

"I know," James finally admitted, letting his lips just barely brush over hers before standing up and helping her out of the fortress they had built with his blankets.

The two dressed silently, searching for garments and items that had been haphazardly tossed about over the weekend. Lily only smiled once when she found her underwear tucked beneath a pillow on the couch, shoved there by James at one point when he was trying to convince her to join him in the shower.

______________________________

Soon enough, her items were packed into her purse and there was no more delaying the inevitable.

They stared at one another from across the room, taking slow steps towards each other until they were both just by his front door, standing an awkward length apart. All weekend their bodies had been desperate to connect, and now it was as if they were two sides of the same battery, repelled by a single touch.

"So…" Lily finally let out, looking past James to the lakeside cabin that had been her saving grace for this solitary weekend.

James said nothing in response, just studying her face. Her eyes darted down to her feet, trying to figure out what else she could say. How could they change this?

She looked up again, hoping to see a hint of warmth in his gaze, but all she could see was a steely gaze that looked back at her. She saw no hint of the James that she had just spent an entire weekend with. Once more, her heart was cracking as she saw this potential future she had dreamed of falling to pieces right in front of her eyes.

It had been real enough just to get her through.

Lily was internally begging for James to take her hand. Squeeze it tight once more. Just once. Let her know that this wasn't just a one-sided thing. He felt it too, he had to feel it too. If he just reached out and grabbed her hand, she'd cancel her plans. She'd stay. She'd claim him as hers.

But he didn't. His hands stayed shoved into his pockets, the same as that first time she saw him again, walking in the same direction towards the market.

Had she fooled herself once again? Thinking that it was something more than it was. Lily pleaded with herself to just make the leap, damn the insecurities, take his hand and jump over the ledge. All she had to do was cross that line. Instead, her own hands hung loosely in front of her, fingers idly tangled together with her purse hanging at her hip.

She could almost envision it, the creaking of the cabin floor as she stepped forward and begged him to come with her, to join her in London where they could create this world together that had the both of them in it. The way his arms would slowly wrap around her waist and keep her pressed against him while they whispered about how stupid they had almost been to let each other go for a second time.

She could almost see it.

"I guess… I guess I should go. I have that dinner party at my parents' tomorrow and I promised to help mom prepare for guests."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense." James whispered, looking like he was conflicted for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. Despite the warmth of his lips, her body ran cold as it was the only place their bodies met. His hands, usually desperate to touch her, stayed tucked deep into his pockets.

Lily was frozen in place for a second before realizing she would have to be the one to leave. Once again, Lily mustered up every ounce of strength she had and walked through his door, away from James and his warm bed, the cocoon they had built together that felt like a safe haven. She wiped her tears away slowly, only once that heavy door had closed behind her.

Maybe one day they'd find a way to get the timing right.

Maybe one day she'd find that Gryffindor courage she was supposedly blessed with.

Not today.

[julyarchives]

Lunar Love || (M)

Stuck between forbidden love and duty to the kingdom, decisions under the moonlight may change everything

→ Pairing: Yanan x Female Reader

→ Genre: Smut

→ Words:  2.8K

→ Contains: Smut; Princess MC; Royalty AU; whole lot of romance

→ A/n: So, we tried a different kind of language for this story, and writing this beautiful romance was really fun! We hope you guys like it as much as we do!

You consider yourself lucky. Being born part of royalty had something to do with that but also being able to live the life you wanted since a little kid was a dream come true. You have everything, a beautiful big royal housing, a lovely mother and a caring father, every luxury you could think of, and many more. Of course, it is not completely perfect, having strict duties and forced into marriage for alliance purposes was not at all part of your dream. But even though you were promised to a faraway prince, you had your own prince, so to speak. 

 Since learning you were to be married, your mother insisted on making you take classes on proper manners and house managing to suit your soon-to-be husband. She left the teaching role to the youngest and studied man in the kingdom. He was sure wise and proper like she expected you to be and it helped that he was a close friend of yours growing up. Yanan was a dream come true to all the royalty ladies you knew, and some commoners as well, and who was to blame…

 Yanan took the role of your teacher against his will, claiming to be needed for studies elsewhere but never leaving nevertheless. He taught you many things as to how to please a man and honestly, it was all dull and you knew it. So did he. When he was certain you two were no longer watched closely by the Queen or any maid answering to her, he'd stop pretending he believed in female submission in marriage and simply enjoyed time with you. 

 That's when things went wrong. Or maybe incredibly right. You learned subtly that even though he was always leaving the kingdom for studies, his heart never parted with him, it always stayed in the royal housing, with you. To claim you loved him from the start is a lie, you didn't even know you were allowed to feel love for someone who was not to be your husband but his actions as the days went by, carefully moving his routine around you so to not force his feelings to the surface got you enchanted in mere weeks.

Once enchanted there were no turnbacks. Your cheeks would flame up as he smiled at you, his smooth and gentle manners captivating your heart more and more. Subtly, just as the wind caressed your faces by the housing lake, you confessed your confusing heart, even if it hurt knowing this lovable man was not to be yours. That day he was your first. Your first love, kiss, and first night awake in someone else's arms. It was also your first tears when you parted ways, scared of never living your love. 

 Since that day your chambers were always filled with flowers, coloring the royal house differently, filling your heart with more love and more longing. The maids designed to accompany you always thought it was the goodwill of yours to be husband and you nodded along, letting your mind dream that to be true. The downside of being a princess was the need to be surrounded by people all the time, your security and comfort coming first, so outside classes, it was incredibly hard to meet Yanan.

 So when he showed up at the door of the main room as you had your daily tea with other noblewomen, your heart almost stopped. Their whispers angered you in envy and jealousy but your eyes were strained in the soft black-haired man standing in front of you. With an elegant bow, he addressed you. 

 "My princess", he kissed your hand as any other man would but the tenderness you felt there was special. 

 "What brings you here?"

 "I was given this message. I was told to deliver it to you to deal with it privately, since I'm closer acquainted with you, my Princess".

 You nodded, lost for words. You quickly unfolded the parchment and you almost dropped it from shaking.

 As the moon sets higher, I'll be waiting by your beloved garden. Be so kind to meet me there after dinner.

 "I- I completely understand, sir. Please take this away and seek to do what you judge best with it. Maybe burn it", the shocked gasps from the ladies brought you back to reality. "Oh, fret not, ladies. It was a mere message from the head maid over my request to more rose waters". 

 You prayed for it to be enough to calm them down and luckily it did. It was not good to have them gossip about what that note was about. They knew better to question you and even better to know you're not supposed to keep a message from a housekeeper. His elegant writing was impossible to not recognize and you smiled gently at him, bowing your head and watching him leave silently. Your heart was euphoric and you knew time was going to pass way more slowly than usual. Thankfully it was the end of the afternoon and soon enough you had to go have dinner with your family and nobles.

 Dinner did no good to you, for it was spent exchanging secret looks between you and your lover, anxiety building up as the clock ticked away the long seconds remaining for your tryst.

 “You look rather distracted, my dear” your mother stated, “is there something troubling you?” 

 “I’m just a little tired, mother, nothing a good rest can not fix,” you said, containing your leg under the table, which was shaking in anticipation.

You tried your best to remain present, but your mind did nothing but wander back to the last time your lips met, your romantic rendezvous rather chastely, but now you were craving his lips like you never had before, dreaming about the feeling of being in his strong arms again.

 Took it long enough, but you were finally excused from the table and accompanied to your room by your loyal maidens. 

 “I shall not be disturbed tonight, for I must heal from this terrible headache” you dramatically touched your temples. “Wake me up only for my morning tea.”

 They bowed obligingly, leaving to fulfill their other duties.

 Wasting no time, you evaded your chambers as soon as there was no one in sight, not even bothering changing from your formal dress, carefully prepared for dinner with guests. You ran away, sneaking around hidden corners that only you knew, and finally, you made it to the gardens.

 Your beloved awaited for you under the pale moonlight, which reflected on his skin beautifully like he was part of the collection of marble statues that adorned the bushes and flowers in the area. He was breathtakingly handsome, and you felt like the luckiest lady in all the kingdom.

 He spared his words as he simply took your hand and, in between giggles, you two ran fast through the darkest spots, finally making it to the forest, where you two could live your romance without being bothered by the real world. Over there you two could be accomplices and lovers, living your fantasy and desires as you please, whilst everything else was dearly forgotten. Far enough from the castle, the moon was the only source of light, and it didn’t take long for his lips to urgently seek yours.

 You blushed, embarrassed from the moan that escaped you as soon as you felt him all over you.

 “I longed for a taste of you, my lady” he whispered between kisses.

 “Me too, my charming lover” you confessed “being in your arms last time only made me yearn for more.”

 He kissed you passionately, but his hand gently found in your, and in between pecs he said:

 “I’ve prepared something for us.”

 You followed him without any hesitation, trusting him with your life and heart.

 A bedsheet spread across the prickly grass decorated with flower petals awaited you both on a glade. You removed your shoes, so did he, and you two stood in the middle of it, now kissing with patience. His hands now caressed your face, kindly guiding you with sweet dominance, and you were completely his.

 "May I touch your beautiful skin, my princess?" He said, hand positioning on the small of your back, ready to untie your corset.

 You nodded and so he did. Although he was undressing you, and you were now more vulnerable and exposed than you've ever been before, his eyes were locked on yours. Even as he slid your dress down your shoulders, dropping it at your feet, he still couldn't stop staring at your face, eyes burning with love, and yours reciprocating in the same intensity. 

 He then proceeded to delicately kiss your shoulders, as he was caring for every centimeter of skin he could see. You longed to feel him as well, so you took his jacket off, then unbuttoned his shirt. Your hands immediately went to his back, his wariness comforting against your palm.

 "Make me yours, my sweet Yanan." You whispered in his ear "for tonight I'm no princess, nor any part of royalty. I am yours and yours only."

 "What have I done to be gifted with such blessings? Or perhaps I'm being tainted with the most beautiful sin." He said, locking eyes with you again, resting his forehead against yours as he held you close.

 "I am no devil as well, but if sinning is drinking from you, then nor a saint I am." Was your final words before pulling him into a passionate kiss.

 Both of your exposed chests were now pressed together, and although this was your first time being undressed in front of a man, you felt no shame. The moment was magically flowing, and it was a bubble you never wanted to come out of.

 Yanan was still a little bit cautious, afraid of crossing any limits, always treating you so gently. You decided to encourage him and guide his hand to your chest, making him gasp with the contact. 

 "Touch me, my love" you said in between kisses 

 "Let's lay down first, darling" he replied, holding you still, so you would do it comfortably.

 You laid against the soft sheets and he positioned himself on top of you. Yanan still had his bottoms on, but somehow that made him more attractive. He put his hand back in your chest, this time more sure of it, and now massaging it lightly while his finger played with your nipples.

 You felt wetness pooling in between your legs, and the bulge in his pants told you he was aroused too, and taking advantage of that, you buckled your hips against his, getting some relief from the friction, small moans escaping both of your lips.

 "Those sounds are heavenly" Yanan whispered, nibbling your earlobe.

 You let out another moan as a response, and to reward you Yanan caught your other nipple in his lips, swirling his tongue around it, making you throb in desire. Your finger intertwined in his soft hair, tugging it to show him that you were liking what he was doing, your moans becoming louder as you did so. He put his tight higher up, so now you were riding it, the jolts of pleasure pooling in your lower stomach.

 "I need you inside me, Yanan" you managed to say, sliding your hand inside his pants and lightly stroking his member.

 There was no time to lose as you felt desperation so strange yet so welcoming to have him. And thankfully his desire matched yours, his moan indicating his own lust. He pulled down his pants enough to get his member free and entered you slowly, eyes locked in yours, his hands finding yours to hold. It was such a special moment, your connection going beyond anything you ever felt, it was physical and emotional, you felt in your soul and when he shuddered from being inside of you, you knew both of you needed him to move.

 "My love, please, I need you", you whispered, feeling the stretch burning so pleasantly. 

 "Any wish of yours is a command to me, my princess", he whispered back, hips moving slowly against you.

 You both moaned at the feeling and you held his hand tighter, his member hitting the perfect spot for you to see stars with eyes closed. Yanan whispered praises at you nonstop, pouring his heart out for you as he picked up speed slightly with his thrusts, his own need clouding anything else. The night felt hotter as he made love to you in a gentle yet intense manner, his voice sending shivers down your spine and his member sending flames up your core. All too soon your hips moved harder against him, a silent plea to release the impending desire burning inside of you. He grunted at that, grinding harder and faster against you, feeling you clench around him. 

 "Let go, my love. Let it wash over you, that desire inside", he moaned, one hand caressing your nipple again. 

 It was all too much for you, eyes closing and mouth opening in ecstasy, moaning nonsense that only your heart knew. That white-hot burning feeling taking over your body and you knew no other man would ever make you explode like him. Yanan followed immediately, voicing his own love for you as he spent inside of you. Your body shook from the intensity of your orgasm and Yanan held you close as he finished with you, both of you a trembling mess. When you both came down from it, eyes staring curiously and adoringly at each other, you couldn't help but smile at him, your free hand moving a lock of his hair behind his ear, his own smile matching yours.

 Yanan laid next to you and you turned to cuddle him, laying your head on his chest, hearing his heart beating as if to the sound of thunder. For a moment you worried for he spent inside of you and your hand shot to your belly, holding it as if your fear became true at the second you felt it.

 "It would be a beautiful child if it had your eyes, my lady", he smiled down at you, knowing what your fear was.

 "I beg to differ, my love. If the child was ever to be born, it'd be a delight to have one with your handsome features", you smiled back.

 "Y/N, I sure feel I am not worthy of your affection, impossibly so of having your body next to mine as we are, but my lady, you have my undying devotion". Yanan's eyes were heavy and the sudden change worries you. 

 "What worries you, dear? Why are you telling me your heart once more?", you sat up, not even caring about your nakedness and he sat up as well.

 "We are not fated together, my lady. We are challenging fate and the palace goodwill just by being close", he sighed, his hand caressing your cheek adoringly, "the King is pushing up the date to your marriage, my princess".

 Your head began to spin and he could only hold you close as silent tears adorned your face. Holding him close, all you knew was that no matter what happened, you'd fight for your love, you'd stay by Yanan's side for the rest of your life, no matter how many years. 

 "If I were ever so brave to challenge fate, even more, my love…", he spoke so low you had to look up so you could understand, "I'd propose a new life for our love. A new start to our hearts, together, on a faraway land. Where no prince will steal my heart's muse from me again".

 His smile matched yours and you knew it was the only way. You didn't answer when he brought up the marriage by being certain a sob would come out instead of words of how you felt like a different kind of explosion would burst in your chest.

 "It is the only way to make our love happen, my sweet Yanan. And if I have to fight until the day of my death for your love, then so I will. You tell me when and I'll run away with you without any hesitation, my love".

 "Tomorrow", his stern voice made you shiver in excitement. So he had plans for you, he was fighting for you and that made tears pool in your eyes. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much but you didn't even care. "I took the liberty to think of a plan to start anew, my princess, for I knew your heart is a mirror to mine and so will be for all eternity. From tomorrow on, I'm forever yours, my beautiful Y/N".

 "From tomorrow to all eternity, my beautiful Yanan".

[plasticnightmaredoll]

(artwork is a commission done by @stillfuckinbetterthanyou)

I guess because it’s my birthday soon and I’ve been obsessed with Arkhamverse Riddler lately, I came up with a kinky little drabble involving Enigma/Edward Nashton (Riddler before he was Riddler, basically) and my Arkham Origins o/c, Lorelei Jones.

This may not be part of the main fic involving them, but can be seen as a sort of “bonus” side story or a deleted scene even. 

But it’s canon (well, for this Arkham Origins A/U at least).

The main fic will probably be called, “Break All of Our Stigma,” which is a line from Lady Gaga’s song, “Enigma” (Yes, I know, I know, I just lover her, ok? And the song actually kind of fits Lorelei and Edward). This side drabble is called, “Cake,” and while it does involve Lorelei helping Eddie celebrate his birthday, the “cake” in question isn’t a literal cake.

If you know what I mean 👀👀👀👀💦💦💦💦💦

I mean, there is a cake mentioned in the drabble, but the cake Eddie gets to feast on isn’t that cake.

*cough*

Anyway, here is part 1 of what will most likely be 3 parts. Part 1 is the lead in to eating the “cake,” part 2 will be “eating” the “cake,” and part 3 will be...well, you’ll figure that out ;)

Hey, if you think this is spicy, this is NOTHING compared to what I’m writing for Telltale Riddler. Imagine all of this but, like........................MORE PORN. 

Very NSFT/NSFW content under the cut because Eddie and Lorelei are horny little fuckers 😘

Cake (part 1)

Summary: It’s Edward’s birthday and his lovely GCPD detective, Lorelei, decides to plan something special for him, including a cake. He tells her she needn’t spend so much effort on him, especially since she just wrapped up a rather exhausting case. However, she shushed him and told him he deserves, at the very least, an excellent cake for his special day. However, the “cake” she has ready for him isn’t what he’s expecting...not that he’s complaining.

Edward was more than ready to get to his apartment after a long, tiring, frustrating day at the always “glorious” GCPD. How was it that so many idiots worked in one place? Why were people in general so damn annoying? And stupid? 

As he made his way down the hall, he felt some of the tension leave him as he knew his lovely detective was waiting for him. She’d already given him a birthday gift that morning (a green-striped scarf and dark green gloves, both of which he loved but he told her she didn’t need to spend her money on him), and now she had a cake prepared for him. Sharing some cake with her on his “special day” (he still didn’t see what the big deal was) sounded like the perfect way to unwind (even if she didn’t need to go through the trouble to make one for him). Perhaps it would be relaxing for her as well, chatting over something sweet and enjoying some peace after finishing a very tiring case? He hoped as much since, again, he didn’t want her to feel like she had to spend time or money on him like this.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Lorelei’s text had said in response to him as he left work, and when he entered the apartment, he heard her call out.

“In here, Darling,” she said.

“Be right there,” Edward replied as he hung up his scarf and coat, then placed his gloves in said coat’s left pocket.

Loosening his tie, he placed it on the back of a chair in the living room along with his vest and ID tag. Undoing a few buttons of his dress shirt and rolling up his sleeves, he made his way to the kitchen, a warm smile on his face as he prepared to greet his sublime lover.

Edward stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw Lorelei sitting on the kitchen table wearing nothing except a green garter belt with matching stockings and green high-heels. He could feel his face turning red as his mind struggled to come up with something to say, something that made sense considering his thoughts were all jumbled up at that moment.

“Where’s the cake?” he finally asked, and he mentally kicked himself for asking such a ridiculous question.

“Right here,” Lorelei said as she opened her legs for him. “Disappointed?”

“Not at all!” he said with a little nervous laugh. “Just...really surprised.”

‘Well, it is your birthday...surprises are bound to happen.”

“Indeed…”

“So, are you gonna come over here and enjoy your ‘cake’ or…?”

Edward’s legs seemed to move on their own as he quickly walked over to Lorelei, stepping between her spread thighs and grabbing her waist as he pressed his lips to hers in a deep, passionate kiss. She was so receptive, moaning into his mouth as she wrapped her legs around him to keep him close. How did he get this lucky? Why was he even this lucky? The way she treated him, it was like he was the sexiest man alive, and while he honestly wasn’t, he couldn’t help but soak up all the attention. It felt good -- she felt good. Ah, more than good. He couldn’t properly describe it, especially not while he was making out with her as she was practically naked and had just invited him to enjoy her...to put his face between her thighs and…

“So, did you expect to come home to an invitation to feast on my cunt?” Lorelei asked, slightly breathless, as Edward kissed and nipped at her neck.

His cock twitched in his trousers upon hearing that, and he bit back a moan.

“N-No,” he replied, moving to her collarbones. 

“Disappointed it’s not a real cake?” she asked, and he could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Not one bit.”

“There is actually a small cake in the fridge for us to share. I literally finished icing it before you texted me to tell me you were coming home. We can have some now if you prefer?”

“No, it can wait...I mean, thank you but I...I, umm...want this other ‘cake’ first.”

“Which cake?” 

Lorelei had the most devious grin on her face, and she couldn’t help but think of how adorable Edward looked blushing like crazy and acting a bit shy while still feeling incredibly turned on. Yes, he knew how to fuck her just right so she was reduced to a moaning, panting, mewling mess, but he was undeniably sweet. He gave as much as he took, you could say, and sometimes, he didn’t take nearly enough since he always focused on her. She had no idea what she did to deserve him but she wasn’t going to complain.

“Ummm…” Edward gave Lorelei a cute bashful smile as he slowly reached down between them and pressed his fingers between her slick folds. “This one.”

“You naughty little geek,” she teased with a giggle.

“I haven’t even gotten started yet,” he said, raising a brow and smirking, feeling more and more bold as the seconds ticked by. “This is hardly naughty.”

“Oh? Then what is naughty?”

“This.”

Edward slipped a finger inside Lorelei, meeting little resistance with how wet she was, and quickly inserted a second one, curling them both against her spot and making her shudder. He watched her eyes flutter closed as he carefully stroked her inner walls with his fingers, using his free hand to help guide her head down onto the table. 

“Mmm...that’s more like it,” Lorelei purred as he continued to finger her at a steady pace. “But is that all you--Oh!” Her eyes shot open when she felt Edward’s thumb rub her clit. “Oh, fuck…”

But Edward wasn’t done yet.

He hadn’t failed to notice the green-gemmed nipple piercings Lorelei was wearing (she really knew exactly what turned him on, didn’t she?) and he leaned down and gently sucked on her right nipple. Her fingers threaded into his dark brown hair as a sigh escaped her, and when he lightly tugged on the nipple ring, she inhaled sharply, her fingers scratching at his scalp. 

“Mmm...Eddie,” she panted, chewing on her lower lip. “That’s so good…”

Edward started to use his palm to stimulate Lorelei’s clit as his fingers moved more roughly against her g-spot. Coupling that with the way his mouth was teasing her breasts and Lorelei was no longer as chatty.

“Yes, yes, Eddie, fuck!” she moaned. “Just like that, please, fuck, fuck...ah, shit, fuck!”

Or rather, she wasn’t very coherent anymore.

As much as Edward was loving the sexy noises Lorelei was making, the feeling of her elegant fingers grabbing at his hair, and the lewd wet sounds caused by his fingers between her legs, he knew he had to stop or else this would all be over too soon.

“Sorry,” he said as he slipped his fingers out of Lorelei, causing her to whimper at the loss. “But we can’t let things end too quickly…”

Edward kissed his way between Lorelei’s breasts, up the side of her neck, along and jaw, and stopped at her lips. Their eyes met and they both couldn’t help but smile warmly at one another, her hands cupping his face. Time seemed to stop in that moment, and all he could think of was how much he loved her, how much he craved her, and how he’d give up anything and everything for her. Her thoughts were nearly the same as she delighted in the fact that her life had become so much brighter since she’d let him get close to her.

The kiss they shared was tender this time since neither of them were good at being very sentimental with words. It was enough, though -- or they hoped it was enough to convey how much they cared for one another. It didn’t take long for the kiss to become hungry, however, both of them practically gasping for air as they clung to each other and nearly refused to take proper breaths. 

Lorelei’s fingers moved to Edward’s shirt, undoing the remaining buttons before tugging it out of his pants, watching him sit up and practically tear it off before pressing his now naked upper body against hers and kissing her hard. They were almost forgetting what they were even doing on the kitchen table, and when she reached down to grasp his erection through his pants, he hissed into her mouth and rutted against her palm. She hastily unfastened his belt and ripped it from the loops, then went right for the button and zipper of his trousers, allowing her to reach into his boxers and take hold of his cock.

“Ah, L-Lorelei!” he groaned as he lightly bucked against her hand. 

Honestly, she wanted to beg Edward to just fuck her already, forgo this whole kinky surprise ‘cake’ thing and let him raw her, but no, no, she wanted to do this right. It took all she had to resist but she managed to get herself together so she could speak.

“You haven’t had your ‘cake’ yet,” Lorelei said as she removed her hand from Edward’s pants. 

“You’re right,” Edward said, letting out a breathy laugh. “I want to taste you, Lorelei. Can I? Can I put my mouth on you?”

“It’s your birthday, Baby. Have at it!”

Edward flashed her a grin before giving her a sweet kiss and standing up.

“Let’s get you situated,” he said as he looked her over.

“Yes, Sir,” Lorelei said with a wink, and a shiver ran through Edward.

God, she was going to be the death of him and he didn’t have one complaint about that.

[concussed-to-pieces]

To Tell You The Truth Part Eight

Fandom: Prospect [2018]

Pairing: Ezra/Prospector!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: I may or may not have gone full tilt here, I apologize. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @renegademustelid @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @sporadic-fics @rzrcrst @lackofhonor @the-feckless-wonder @arrowswithwifi @fioccodineveautunnale @absurdthirst @cryptkeepersoul @fleetwoodmactshirt @88dragon06 @roxypeanut @walkerchick007 @peggers-n-beggers @robbinholland @chrisbostonevans @cinewhore

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains certain religious terminology used in a context that may be considered sacrilegious. Stay safe!]

Ezra might have prayed for temperance, but you prayed for strength. You prayed for courage, for the flourishing of the bonfire that wanted to roar like a lion in your abdomen. Admittedly, you did feel a bit silly approaching your eventual physical romance in such a militant fashion, but the vibrant hunger of his kisses (for all that he tried to gentle them) was intoxicating. 

You were left wanting, craving, longing for more and fearing it all at once. Somehow, Ezra had known. Soothing your trembling away, adjusting himself before cradling you against his side, "I will not be a threat to you, gentle soul." And he wasn't. You were safely returned to your room, wholly unmolested aside from a final, lingering kiss that left your skin tingling. 

You touched yourself that night for the first time in stands, hoping and wishing that he was doing the same in his own bedroom as you worked yourself feverishly to your orgasm. 

The next morning, you were terrified that things would be different. That something might have changed and that he would have finally thought better of getting involved with someone like you. You lolled around in bed for far too long and then took your time getting washed up in the bathroom, but when you opened the door you were instantly confronted by your customary mug of morning beverage. 

"I'm afraid I...missed you in the kitchen earlier." Ezra murmured, brown eyes meeting your own nervously. "The hydro, while a delightful invention, cannot hold a candle to your conversational wit." 

He was worried, off-balance. It made your tension ease; you could feel your shoulders slouching a little. The sight seemed to get him to relax slightly, the furrow between his eyebrows lessening when you accepted the mug with a quiet sound of thanks. "Wasn't sure if you regretted anything." You mumbled by way of explanation. 

"You are one of the few beautiful things in my life that regret has yet to gain a foothold on." Ezra assured you sincerely. "And it shall remain so for as long as I have a say in the matter." He paused. "Is that...acceptable?"

You smiled up at him, taking the first sip. "Entirely adequate."

…

Ezra was soft and lazy in the mornings, slow to really wake up, his sleep-tousled hair demanding to have your hands in it. You loved the way he would petulantly scrunch his nose when you kissed it.

Midday found him vibrant and mischievous, urging you to accompany him on his exploratory jaunts around the Pug's west dock and Ward Twenty Seven. His hand never left your own on these walks, that faint worry still there even in the safety and stability. 

Ezra usually tried to plan something to occupy the evenings. On the rare clear nights during the late autumnal season, he would drag you out of the apartment to the barely-maintained west park so the two of you could watch haphazard performances by local artists in the ramshackle community gazebo. More likely though, the bad weather kept you cozy on the couch in the living room.

"I keep wondering when I'll wake up." Ezra announced abruptly one bitterly-cold night. "I posit that perhaps I perished in the Green; Bakhroma's noxious foliage nourishing itself even now with my carcass. It would be a certain poetic justice, I think, for someone as morally bankrupt as myself. My dastardly body serving to further the spread of such voracious verdance." His eyes were distant and troubled as he continued doggedly, "None of this feels real. It is all too...soft. Too kind. As though any edge that could wake me has been sanded down, dulled to a dream."

"I'm not a dream." You replied firmly, snuggling closer to his side. 

"You are the most quixotic portion of this campaign, I have to say. That someone like you would even bother to glance my direction, to say nothing of the warmth you exude...gentle soul, you are a Stockholmian improbability of the highest caliber." Ezra's voice cracked, his expression haggard. "I long to be a man worthy of you. I don't believe in divine will, and even if I did I would be loathe to reduce you down to a simple compensation from some nebulous deity for patiently enduring their trials, but...but I can think of no other reason for you to still be here with me." He confessed wearily. "I offer nothing you can't secure yourself, I have-"

"Ezra?" You interrupted before he could spiral any further into melancholy. 

"Yes, gentle soul?"

"I'm here because I love you, not because you have something I want to secure." 

"That has never been in question, but-"

"No no." You climbed into his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders. "I. Love. You." You stated firmly, cradling his face in your palms after a moment. "Hey. I love you, Ezra. I love you. Even when you disappear into your own head. Even when you go where I can't follow." Your thumb accidentally grazed the scar on his left cheek and he flinched, the intuitively defensive motion making your heart clench. "I don't expect you to be perfect. Gods know I'm not! But don't think for a second that you don't deserve to at least be happy, okay?"

"I deserve none of this." He muttered dismally, still avoiding your gaze. 

"What was it you told me the day you came to see me in the hospital? 'We have endured so much worse than having a little good fortune, yet upon being confronted with it, we do not feel worthy'." 

His laugh was mirthless, raw. "I am remarkably eloquent, especially when I lie, gentle soul."

You huffed out a breath. "Oh that was a lie, huh? I guess you wanting to be a better man must also be a lie, right? A hackneyed platitude?" His chest shuddered, but you kept going, "All the times you've called me precious or beautiful or gentle, probably lies. A valkyrie? What a damn joke."

"Now, wait just-"

"You want to lie? Lie all you want. But you're not going to wallow." You scolded.

"Gentle soul, I do not lie about you." Ezra protested. "I yearn to be a better man, a man worth your avid ardour with every fiber of my reprehensible bein', yet I am unworthy of insomuch as the opportunity to enable me to do so."

"I wish you could see what I see." You ran a finger down the bridge of his pronounced nose, smiling when he wrinkled it. "I wish you believed me."

"As do I. More than you'll ever know." Ezra sighed, wrapping his arms around you. "If only to soothe my own damnable ego!"

"There's nothing I can do to convince you?" You quizzed him, wriggling a little in his grip to try and get more comfortable on top of him. He grunted, tightening his hold. "Maybe I should write you a poem."

"No, no." He replied breathlessly, his fingers digging into your hips. "You are already all the poetry I could ever desire, gentle soul."

"What about a sonnet? A haiku maybe?" Your brow furrowed as you noticed just how tightly he was holding you. "A...what, limerick?"

Ezra sputtered with laughter, his black mood finally seeming to lift. "A limerick, Kevva preserve me!" He chuckled.

"There once was a man named Ezra…" you began threateningly.

"I am not an innocent, and yet I implore your valkyrical heart for mercy. Spare me such torment, gentle soul!"

You pursed your lips, trying to think of a second line, but Ezra interrupted your thought process with a kiss. And really, it was incredibly unfair that his kisses always seemed to render your mind to soft static. He hummed into your mouth, obviously pleased with himself. 

You didn't miss the way he settled you more firmly into his lap, however, making you break the kiss with a gasp. "No predation, gentle soul. I just crave you a little closer." Ezra breathed. "Is it too much?"

"N-No, not at all. I like it." You admitted shyly, toying with the buttons on his henley. He groaned, his mustache brushing the sensitive skin of your neck when he kissed you beneath your ear.

"I must confess to my shortcomings, gentle soul." He murmured against your neck. "I bear the cross of strong predisposition towards adoration and a certain...proclivity regarding devouring. I hope not to offend." 

"I don't know what you said, but I trust you." You replied just as softly, shivering at the volume of the groan he let out. The way he sounded was enough to have you growing wet, your natural slick easing the drag of the seam of your pants over your clit when you shifted again.

"I said, I will worship you with every breath in my lungs, and I wish to put my mouth on you in a salaciously intimate fashion." Ezra translated, his lips curving into a languid smile against your skin as he spoke.

"Oh?" You asked, willing your heart to stop pounding excitedly in your chest and trying to adjust your stance on top of him surreptitiously.

"Kevva, I do not deserve you. I feel untried." He admitted shakily. "Pardon my lewd terminology, but the delectable undulations of your form against my own threaten to bring me to fruition. I am afraid I must insist that we-"

You rocked your groin down, eyes half-lidding when you realized what you had been absently rubbing against this whole time. You braced your hands on his chest, leaning close. "You must insist that we…?" You prompted him with a teasing smile.

"Gentle soul, such cruelty...you have me thoroughly turgid." He muttered through gritted teeth. His fingers cradled the back of your neck, as if he didn't trust himself to put them anywhere else. "Stay your hand, I beg you, before I make a mess of this."

"Of what, your pants?"

"...among other things, yes." Ezra growled. 

"Hmm," you paused, as if you were thinking about it. "No." 

"You-!" Ezra's words dissolved into a hoarse groan when you hitched your hips up to grind your cunt against the swollen curve of his member, barely contained by his jeans. "Martyr's malfeasance, I can feel the heat of you, please don't stop--may I touch you?" He gasped. 

"Where?" You asked, not so wholly aroused that you forgot your caution. 

He swallowed hard, the thick musculature of his neck rippling beneath your hands. "Wherever you'll permit me, please, please, gods, I have never craved someone as much as I crave you," he pleaded. "I want to grace you with as much benevolent joy as you grace me, more even, I...I will be nude for you, gentle soul, take me apart! Make me yours." He rambled on, his hands in your hair now as he urged your hips forward in their motion. "Permit me to taste and touch you, gentle soul. Allow me entry into the slick, sheltered hollows of your form, grant me succor where your divinity pulses to new life with every pass of my tongue." Ezra pressed his forehead to your own, his heated words stealing your breath. Half the allure was untangling them all. "I am but a sinner rendered wholly insensible by your presence, greedy and undeserving and yet I beg, I implore-" 

You coaxed his hands out of your hair, smiling mistily at him before you kissed his knuckles. "Go ahead. I trust you."

"Rise then, you gossamer fae creature." He ordered, clapping a hand to your hip. "Titania's beauty pales in comparison to your own and I have not even divested you of your garments." 

"Oh, here?" You bit your lip. "You don't want to...I mean, the bedroom?" 

"Is that what you wish?" Ezra queried, his hands stilling. You took in the sight of him underneath you, hair thoroughly mussed with his shirt rucked up over his belly. "Whatever you prefer, gentle soul. Is this too fast?"

"No, no no, I'm more worried about how small the couch i--hey!" You yelped when Ezra cradled your body against his own and stood. Your knees grappled at his sides for a moment and he burst out laughing, fumbling to urge your leg up over his hip. 

"I've got you! I've got you, don't fret." The former prospector soothed, still smiling. "You're safe."

"Oh Ezra?" You called over his shoulder. "Some man is here to take me away, he says he's worthy of me or something, I dunno', I'll see you tomorrow morning okay?"

In reply, Ezra buried his face in your neck and blew a raspberry on your skin, making you squeal and wriggle. "You are so smug, I love it!" He laughed. "You piquant little thing, a vivacious rebuttal to Kevva's divine will."

"Oh I'm sacrilegious now?" You questioned as he carried you down the hall, feeling a tremor of fresh excitement when he entirely ignored your bedroom door in favor of his own.

"I am confident that you shall rapidly come to terms with your newfound paganism, gentle soul." 

You slung your arms around his neck and held on to him a little tighter, enthusiasm and trepidation warring within you.

Once the former prospector placed you on the bed in his room, his eager demeanor shifted. "Lights on, or off?" He asked softly. "Would you rather undress yourself, or would you like me to undress you?"

"Oh, u-um. Can we have just...a small light on? Like your bedside lamp?" You requested, twisting the hem of your shirt. "I'll be okay as long as I can see you, but I'm...well, y'know." You shrugged anxiously up at him. 

"I don't know, I'm afraid. What are you?" 

Really, you should have known better than to assume that he would let you off that particular hook so easily. You sighed. "I'm not exactly in the greatest shape even after all this time, I've got stretch marks and that scar and I-"

"And you, are immaculate." Ezra whispered, leaning in from the side to kiss the rest of your self-deprecation away. "You are strength and wonder and all the good that has ever been, encapsulated in a stunning mantle of kintsugi. Every scar is drenched in gold, every mark forged anew in radiance. You are pure sunlight, gentle soul, rapturous air in this battered floater's lungs."

"Oh," was all you could say in reply, wide-eyed. 

"I wish you could see what I see." Ezra echoed your earlier words, smiling when you huffed and turned your head away from him. "It's true! Don't hide from me, gentle soul. I know it is embarrassing, but honesty is the best policy-"

"Says the one who claimed he was at his most eloquent when he was lying!" You protested, half-laughing.

"I regret to inform you that that was a lie as well."

"You're incorrigible."

"And infatuated." Ezra returned to the bed from dimming the lights, shedding his shirt as he went. "Impossible. Infuriating. Vexatious. Precocious." His voice dipped to a sultry purr, the next word buzzing against the skin of your neck. "Garrulous." 

"Ezra please, you're the best-looking thesaurus I've ever known but I want to die of embarrassment. Can we not have a vocabulary-expanding session in the bedroom?" You begged, covering your face.

"Best-looking--such flattery, gentle soul!" Ezra teased you mercilessly, "You could have lured me into your embrace stands ago with that silver tongue of yours." He bent close, playing with your fingers at the hem of your shirt. "Besides, you cannot deny your reaction to my expansive vocabulary. You love it when I hum incomprehensible nothings just beneath your ear, don't you?" He enquired, mouthing kisses down the curve of your jaw. You couldn't help your delighted shiver. "You tremble for me, which seems to indicate a level of enjoyment. Either that, or apprehension. Are you apprehensive?"

"Maybe a little." You admitted.

"Because of me? Am I too close? Should I stop?"

"No, gods no!" You protested wildly. Ezra settled back on his haunches, ever patient as you struggled to find the right words. "I'm not apprehensive about you, it's...I guess I'm apprehensive about me. About whether I'll be able to...um, whether I can make you feel good." You floundered.

"I would not trouble yourself with such concerns, gentle soul. If I can offer any assurance, it is in the knowledge that my love and, in kind, my making of said love, is decidedly generous." Ezra soothed, those brown eyes warm and guileless. "All I ask is your permission and consent, which can and should be revoked if you are discomfited by any advance I make."

"Promise?" You whispered.

"Martyr's malfeasance, I would rather lose my arm than cause you undue suffering. I swear it." Ezra replied simply, running a hand through his rumpled hair. "I will not be a threat to you. I will never weaponize myself against you."

"Will…" you hesitated, feeling like everything had gotten so incredibly serious so fast. "Will you let me win at Scrabble?"

He tried to keep a straight face. It worked. Briefly. "I will--I-dammit-" he snorted. "You drive a hard bargain, gentle soul. I may require legal counsel. I am loathe to relinquish my Scrabble dictatorship." Ezra sighed dramatically. "But if it is a question of pursuing carnal delights or intellectual, I must admit the former holds infinitely more allure. I will permit you to win one game."

"Only one?" You bit your lip, tracing circles on his bare chest over his collarbone. A few scars stood out starkly on the olive skin, and you cupped one that marred his right pectoral.

Ezra's breath hitched. "W-Well, perhaps I might be open to candid discourse in favor of justifying two wins. But you must understand, winning by underhanded tactics will give you no lasting joy." He cautioned you sternly. "A faux victory is naught but a festerin' wound that plagues your existence."

"I'll keep that in mind." Your fingers moved to the buttons on your shirt. "I know these small ones are hard for you to undo."

"Your charitable nature overwhelms me." Ezra breathed. "Leave the hooks, will you? I always delight in that particular chore."

"By all means. It's a pain in the neck otherwise." You smiled at how intent his stare was. "You see something you like?"

"Infinite somethings." He groaned, shifting his body down until he laid on his stomach. He pillowed his head on his arm as he looked up at you, his eyes alight. "I want to taste your skin so damn badly."

"I'm right here, y'know." 

"Yes, and I am utterly ruined by that fact. So close to me, so near." His hand moved upward, trembling fingers tracing your knee. "I am so greedy for you, gentle soul. To think that I would spend a lifetime courting danger and avaricious pursuits, only to be rendered timid and a-quiver by the simple knowledge that everything I could ever possibly want is here, here, I can reach out and fill my arms with it." 

You slipped your shirt off of your shoulders and Ezra swore under his breath. "I'm not dumb enough to believe that you've had an easy time of it yourself." You murmured. "You've got more scars than I do."

"By the hubristic tendency of my own hand, I assure you." Ezra urged you upright, his fingers battling with the fasteners of your bra. "Old wounds, made infinitely less caustic by the knowledge that you anticipated me as tenderly as I anticipated you, gentle soul." Your bra finally gave way and the noise he made in his throat was delicious, a helpless little croon of excitement that had you squeezing your thighs together for some meager relief. "Gods, I am woefully underprepared. I would beg for a lifetime to observe you even in this hapless state of undress, yet I am ushered onward by the siren call of this wonderful skin. I would...I would very much like to touch you." He said faintly. 

"Where?" You whispered. His hands slid beneath your arms from behind in reply, cradling your own hands before he raised them to hover over your newly-bared breasts. You bit your lip anxiously. "Be gentle, please?" 

A nearly overwhelming sense of relief washed over you when Ezra nodded his forehead down into the nape of your neck. Knowing that he wasn't actually looking at you yet, all he was doing was feeling you...it made it more bearable somehow. 

So far, so good. 

His index fingers slipped over the still-soft peaks of your breasts and you couldn't help the sigh you let out, feeling your nipples begin to wake under his touch. "Gentle soul, I...words fail me." Ezra admitted quietly. "To coax you to blossom by my hand is all that I could ever want in this lifetime. Lean back, please?"

You obliged, turning your face to kiss his neck so he couldn't see your expression. Ezra's motions were unhurried, tender; calloused palms chafing your breasts with care. His breath stuttered every time you lavished his throat and jaw with kisses. 

"It has been so long since I have been able to touch another, I only pray I do not disappoint. My technique may require some calibration." He apologized with a self-conscious chuckle. "I'm afraid my own imagination is a poor substitute for the flesh and blood fantasy you have presented me."

"I wish I could talk like you." You whimpered against his ear, feeling his chest expand with a sharp inhale. 

"Martyr's malfeasance, I am uncertain that I would be able to endure that hypothetical iteration of reality." He said shakily, delicately rolling your nipples between his thumb and index. You arched your back, gasping. This was impossible, it had never been like this, even before Damon! The only time it had ever felt this good was when you were masturbating, because you knew what you needed, you knew how everything worked, but now-

Maybe you weren't the only one who knew just what you needed. 

"I wonder," Ezra mused, "I wonder just how drenched you are from this alone. I know you are working yourself off on the seam of those wonderfully tight jeans, gentle soul. Would you indulge me for a moment?" He ducked his head down, nudging his nose affectionately into your burning cheek. "I'd appreciate it if you would unzip your jeans. You do not have to, naturally, and I do not expect it of you. But it would be...appreciated."

You fidgeted for a moment, then moved to undo your button.

"Stay, now." Ezra murmured. "Slowly. No demands, no rush. We are relaxed. We are peaceful. Climax need not be a grasping, headlong event. There can be such a build, a gloriously languid indulgence, where pleasure laps heady at the senses and completion bleeds into itself. You make me wish to take my time, gentle soul."

"Right, sorry. I just...I'm used to it. I'll try to remember." You panted, not missing the sorrow that flickered across his rough features. It made your heart ache and sing at the same time, his patience and understanding for your previous experiences.

"Do we need to stop?" Ezra queried. 

You shook your head, nearly hitting his nose. "No, no. I'm having a great time." You insisted, making him chuckle. "No way I'm stopping now, we're just getting to the good part!"

"I am of the belief that any moment I spend with you, clothed or otherwise, is the good part. Perhaps I am too sentimental." The man allowed, still smiling. You bit your lip, skimming your fingers down the surface of your stomach. "There you are, gentle soul. Serene. Taut with anticipation, grinding those beautiful hips up for an echo of touch. Slowly, slowly, make your body beg for it. Draw out the moment of arrival." Ezra instructed as he continued to tease his fingers over your breasts, his voice rasping slightly. "Open your placket as if you have never encountered one before, feel the ticking of the zipper teeth as they slip open."

You closed your eyes if only because you knew you were safe, sliding down your zipper and arching yourself a little to wriggle your hips free. Your panties were soaked, wet enough that they made a soft noise when you tried to tug them down.

Before you could think to feel self-conscious, Ezra groaned long and low in your ear, and you didn't have to open your eyes to know exactly where he was looking. "You are dewy, gentle soul."

"For you." You dared to say, relishing his gasp for breath when you slid your fingers down over your slit.

"Slick from such hard labor, and I confess I am aching as well. But slow now, temperance. Will you touch yourself for me, gentle soul? Bring yourself pleasure?" Ezra paused, like he was fighting for air. "Allow me a taste of the sheltered, trembling divinity that is your womanhood, gentle soul. I am a man adrift in a desert of sensation." He begged hoarsely.

"You want…?" You trailed off, flushing hot at his rapid nod towards your hand. "Are you sure? I mean, what if it's weird? What if-"

"Nothing about your sensuous form could lessen my desire for you, gentle soul." Ezra licked his lips, pupils blown black with want. "Give me your taste. Anoint my mouth with your arousal as we indulge in this carnal rapture."

You were certain that if he said anything else you would spontaneously combust, his words like gasoline on the roaring fire in your belly. Ezra took the opportunity to lick into your mouth, muttering fractured, helpless adoration under his breath as you whimpered and rocked beneath him. Your fingers dove back to your cunt, slipping through the slick folds to tease your entrance and then retreating up over your clit. With a hiccup of loss, you pulled your hand free and shyly extended it to him.

"Lay them on my tongue, you angelic creature. We engage in a communion older than the stars themselves; gods, that I were a worthier man!" Ezra urged your fingers into his mouth, the brown-haired man moaning and laving at your soaked digits with an enthusiasm that you didn't anticipate. "As I suspected," he groaned, "heavenly ambrosia, nectarean. You have sundered my very spirit with your taste, gentle soul." 

"You...it's okay, then?"

"It is an offering from your body. Longing given delicious, lascivious form. It will never be less than the most precious thing to me." Ezra assured you, devilish fingers tormenting the stiffened peaks of your breasts. "Stroke yourself for me, please? Bury those nimble little fingers back into that sweet cunt and bring yourself to fruition."

You squeezed your thighs together, arousal pooling heated and dark in your stomach. He loved you. He didn't feel entitled to you. He wanted you to feel good. "Ezra-"

"My name from your lips is at once agony and ecstasy, gentle soul. I could listen to your voice quivering for hours." Ezra crooned, a smile pressed to the skin of your shoulder. "Are you close? Are you rising turbulent, gentle soul? Threatening completion?" You could barely manage your nod before his large hands palmed your breasts, your nipples tenderly caged between his knuckles. "Then grant me that vision, gentle soul, let me witness you fucking resplendent." He grated out, the uncharacteristically blunt curse sending a searing jolt through your body. 

You were helpless to resist his plea, the blood roaring in your ears rendering you numb to the world for a few moments while your orgasm crashed over you. 

Ezra cradled you close to his chest; kisses landed on your neck, forehead, shoulders as he murmured praise and…

And you might have briefly lost consciousness. Briefly.

Part Nine

[the-holy-ghosted]

I had never known love

Statement of Hope, regarding the beginning of his relationship with Breekon.

this is an old fic too but shoutout to my mutual @skelelephant who sits and makes up insane backstories with me about b+h. what would i be doing without them

I did not know what love was. I never knew how it felt to gain something I didn't know I missed. But now that knowledge is with me always, and I suppose I shall share that knowledge with you.

It is only sensible that I start from the beginning. Yes, the annoying beginning. I don't care if you don't want to hear it; you asked for a statement so I shall give you one. I was hardly a tolerable child, just as loud and violent as I am so well known for now. My behavior only worsened as I grew, and oh did I grow. Even as a young lad I loomed over my peers. I was a snarling, feral thing, hungry to terrorize the innocent teenagers forced to be in my presence. But I mellowed slightly as I reached adulthood. The hunger was there, and I was still vicious, but I found I needed only to exist within the space to feed on their discomfort. However, there was then a new hunger. A hunger I could not name settled in my chest behind my heart. I did not think about that hunger.

I did not know what love was, then. I had never understood that warm softness others spoke so wistfully about. What I knew of the world was cold and mean, no room for comfort. I did not know of love, and I did not care to. Until he appeared. I never had a name for the hunger that lingered in my chest. It was not obvious, nor was it particularly strong. But the moment I laid eyes on Breekon I was all but starving. The man we worked for told me his name, though I can't remember it now, and said we were to work together. Partners, so he called us. Breekon had not said a word the entire time, yet he stared me down with the eyes of a hawk, and that hunger in my heart sang so loud.

Breekon was tall, nearly half a foot taller than me. I knew the only reason we were paired together was that they thought he was big enough to steer me out of trouble. He was the only person bigger than me, which you think would have intimidated me, as our overseers had hoped it would. It did not in the slightest, rather, it enraptured me. I was not used to people looking down at me, being stronger than me. It was a fun change. He was not a talkative man. For at least a week I had not heard him utter a sound, no matter how much I chittered or how many questions I asked him. The rabid desire I felt gnawing at my ribcage was maddening and craved his notice so desperately. I was greedy for Breekon's attention, so I would be as obnoxious as possible in the hopes of getting him to just look at me. I would make jokes, and sometimes I'd get a huff. I would get snappy at other people who tried to turn his attention away. I would get into scraps and shouting matches and he would yank me away like a mother cat grabbing its kitten by the scruff. It was childish, but it worked. And then one day he spoke. I was pestering him, as I usually did, but he was not having me that day. My focus locked onto some small, spiffy-looking gentleman, dressed nicely and looking like he was in a hurry. He bumped into my arm as he scrambled past, and I took it as an opportunity to let off energy and I snapped at the man. Asked him where he thought he was going, what he was in such a hurry for, did he think he could just push everyone out the way like that? The poor fool stuttered and apologized, but I was not satisfied. I grabbed him by the shoulder, prepared to break it if I so pleased when Breekon spoke behind me. "Enough." He said, in a growling voice deeper than my own. I stopped dead and turned around with wide eyes to see him staring knives into me. His eyes told me to let go, and I did. I let go of the small gentleman and walked wordlessly back to the carriage and he stared at me the whole way, silent and stern. He got back into the carriage and we wordlessly continued on. For the rest of the day, my heart was silent. Satisfied.

After that I began getting him to talk a little bit more. He still didn't say much, only saying a word or two at a time, but he always answered when I asked him things. I think he saw how it settled me, how I would stop fussing if he said something, and he figured it was better than dealing with my usual annoyances. I couldn't tell you when we started to become friends, but after a while, we were comfortable with one another's company. I didn't feel so ravenous, and he would speak in full sentences. We became a hard-working pair. Although I mellowed out, the hunger never ceased. In fact, it only grew, filling my chest with a deep ache that I could not understand. I was too afraid to analyze it, too afraid to become self-aware of how I truly felt. All I understood was that I felt better when I was with Breekon. I felt better when he was paying attention to me, speaking to me, listening to me talk. It felt so nice... so rewarding. Desiring his notice of me still led me to poor decisions. I would start trouble just to feel him fuss over me and call me a fool and insist that no, he clean my wounds because my hands were unsteady and I couldn't see my face. I lived for those moments, where he cared for me. I devoured them.

He cared for me like that often. It was my fault, of course; I would get into fights I knew I'd lose, and he would feign his concern as annoyance yet still insist I let him clean me up himself. It was almost routine, to be honest with you. His tenderness was what my heart craved so dearly, the feeling of his hands so gently tending to me felt divine. His doting came more often to me after some time. More often and more by his own free will. I think he had the same hunger in his heart, now that I think about it. He just expressed it differently. While I was persistent in getting his undivided attention, he did not beg for mine. Rather, he just stared at me, almost looking like he was trying to understand something, something he'd figure out if he just looked hard enough. He stared at me with such intensity, a gaze that spoke to me in whispered words I could hear in the back of my mind. I know he heard me say things, too. That became a phenomenon between the two of us. We'd move together wordlessly, already aware of what the other was going to do. At first, we didn't speak of it. We didn't want to have an awkward heart-to-heart and ruin what we had going on. But the whispers I'd hear in the back of my mind turned into clear, coherent words as we spent more time together. He heard them too, I could see it in his eyes. We would peer into one another, and we would hear the words, and we would both startle ourselves and turn away. We never spoke of it. There was something deeper, there. Within the words we projected to one another was a reason for the desperate aching need I had for Breekon that resided in my chest, and if I thought hard enough I could unlock it.

I did end up figuring it out, actually. It was quite funny in retrospect, I hit my head after getting my jaw punched out of place. I was in and out of consciousness and felt so incredibly far away from the world. My eyes were heavy and reality was blurry, but when I did occasionally open them, there were fuzzy visions of Breekon's face looming over me. It was not always his face, though. His face would melt into the face of someone else, a few times. In my dazed state, I did not consider it coincidence or just the concussion twisting my vision. I knew it meant something. My mind was full of incoherent thoughts and feelings and memories that weren't mine, suddenly placed in my head with no warning. Memories I had of Breekon, from someone that was and yet was not me. Not really with him, of course, but no matter the face he wore in these memories that were not my own, it was still him every time. My heart ached. It was pounding. It was throwing all these puzzle pieces at me, screaming for me to put them together. Screaming for me to understand, to remember for myself. To wake up. That last part was very clear. A voice echoed in my conscience to wake up. It was not Breekon's voice, though I could hear him speaking far off in the real world. The voice in my head was my own, but at the same time, it wasn't. It was my own voice from a separate entity, an entity that felt the same as the aching in my heart. It felt so angry, so tired, so brutally desperate for me to just wake up. I couldn't understand what it meant. The memories and screaming and feelings were too much to bear at once. I think I must've started to cry wherever my body was, I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks into my ears, I hadn't even realized they laid me down. Through the static mess, I heard Breekon's gentle coo and a thumb brush over my cheek. He hushed me quietly and I felt his breath in my ear. It was incredible how quickly I stopped shaking and quieted down. The voice in my head wanted me to reach for him, to hold him, but it hurt too much to move. I think I must have grabbed some part of him, his bicep or his leg, and I squeezed. He hushed me some more and comforted me in words I couldn't make out. The screaming was still loud, but whenever he spoke, his voice cut through and brought me ease. He must've understood, telepathically or not, and he kept reassuring me until I finally drifted away into sleep.

Can't say I remember much after that mess. I recall being told the guy I got pummeled by was found bleeding out in a horse paddock. It wasn't hard to guess who did it, especially when Breekon came to check on me with bandaged knuckles. He looked after me by himself for the rest of that week. Not a soul was permitted to bother me but him, a very strict rule that nobody was brave enough to disobey. I think I started feeling like myself again near the end of the week. I was throwing little quips at him again, teasing him about his busted hands, half-joking that I'd kiss them better for him. He let me, once. Sometimes I'd whine about him making my cut lip feel better. Usually, he'd just scoff and turn away. He did, though, sometimes. I remembered those.

I still didn't know what to make of my revelation, though. The voice in my head still screamed, still ached, still reached for Breekon, but there was no explanation as to why. It stressed me greatly, and he took immense concern about my behavior. What could I have told him? That I remembered him from what I can only assume is a past life? That something in my soul woke up and threw a fit over him? Would I have told him to wake up? I couldn't talk about it. He wouldn't understand. It was a few days after getting back into work that I realized I missed him. It made zero sense, and yet it was exactly how I felt. How I could miss someone when I spent every day with them was beyond me, and yet my heart cried it out with such confidence. It was sure. He would be right in front of me and still, I thought I missed him. He tried so hard to understand what little I could tell him without sounding insane, but he still couldn't grasp it. I think it hurt him seeing me so distressed but unable to understand why. The concept was so abstract that no amount of telepathy could properly explain whatever the hell was going on. However, I think he felt it too. Maybe he couldn't quite get it just yet, but something inside him yearned just as painfully. He'd hug me a little tighter, kiss me a little longer, search a little deeper into my eyes for some sudden explanation. He probably wouldn't get it unless he hit his head, though. I knew that, but I wasn't preparing to sock him just to activate what we were both looking for. Somehow, though, he figured it out. I don't know how he did it, he never told me, but one evening he ran to me and told me he loved me. He told me he understood, he gets it now, he knows what we are. "Soulmates" was the term I believe he used. I didn't care what word he called it, the screaming that filled my mind came to a crescendo, and I could think of nothing but to tell him I missed him. He understood what I meant, that time, and he missed me too. We spent that evening holding each other and whispering sweet nothings. I understood the gravity of love, then. Looking at Breekon made it make perfect sense.

We were a hell of a mortal duo for a while there. Absolutely nobody could explain our sudden inseparability, and it frightened them a little bit. We liked it when it frightened them. We started speaking in sync together, I would begin and he would finish as we so love to do now. Sometimes we'd go back and forth just to freak people out. They all wondered what went on between us, but we never told them. They stopped seeing us as two people together and instead as one huge, terrifying thing that came in the form of two men. The fear they emitted was intoxicating, and we took it all.

And then I got sick. Of course I got sick, we handled dead bodies, and I would play with and prod at them like they were rag dolls, like it was a joke. Of course I got sick. It felt cruel to kill me that quickly. We had only a few weeks completed together before I caught that dastardly illness. It was a peculiar thing, that plague. Constantly mutating and killing people in new, more disturbing ways. It certainly wasn't natural, what caught me. It was unlike any disease you've heard of. It did not behave like a regular sickness, putting terrible things inside of your body to kill you. It hollowed you. I remember so vividly ripping some poor dead peasant open to feed his pieces to the pigs, and the ax cut through him clean. No blood, no resistance. I pried him open and found nothing but an empty body and his skeleton. That disease was nothing normal, turning your skin thick and rubbery and carving you out like a pumpkin and ripping your vocal cords to shreds. It hurt, too. Oh, how it hurt. It was not a searing pain that causes you to whimper and wail, but a pain so seething and deep you can't even breathe let alone scream. Breekon did not leave my side as I withered away. I would have told him to save himself, but I knew there was no life for him without me there. He wouldn't have listened, anyway. Whatever time he didn't spend laying and suffering with me, he spent looking for a cure. There was none, of course, but that did not stop him. He was gone for a whole day, once. Wherever I don't know, but when he came back, he came back with a book. A hardcover leatherback, with uncomfortably thick paper and writing I couldn't read. To be honest, I didn't think he could read it either. He could, though, and he told me it would fix me, make me new. The only catch was that I had to die first.

Would any sane person have listened to him? No, of course not. But did I? Of course I did. I trusted him with what little life I had. He explained to me what the book told him and how he found it and how it would work, but I didn't retain anything. Something about a new face granting a new life, I didn't care. I let him talk and he gave me one last kiss goodbye, and finally, I died.

I don't quite recall what it felt like to be dead. All I remember is my body feeling numb, so wonderfully numb, and then I awoke. It wasn't sudden, I just woke up as if from normal sleep. My body felt hollow, as I suppose I should have expected. Breekon was sitting in a chair next to our bed, the book in his lap, a blood-soaked knife in one hand, and holding my own in the other. His head rested upon my thigh, and the dark circles under his eyes suggested I must've been gone for a few days at least. It was then I noticed my face felt strange. It felt like it... fit wrong. It didn't hurt, just felt too stretched out and tight. I felt refreshed, though, funny enough. Like a brand new man, if you will. I eased myself up with my free arm and stared down at Breekon. There was blood covering the floor next to his chair, and I think there may have been a human foot poking out from under the bed. My head was empty, however, and I had no mind for what atrocities he committed to bring me back. I reached my left hand over and gently pushed my fingers through his messy, unclean hair. I squeezed his hand to try and rouse him gently. He stirred, and I tried to speak. My throat was shot, and what came out of my mouth sounded raspy and hoarse, yet I still called him my love with as much tenderness as I always do. He awoke, and he turned his head up slightly to look at me. His face was struck with the most subtle horror at first, which concerned me a bit, but his horror turned to joy and tears began to well up in his eyes. We held each other for a little while. He wept into my shoulder and I realized I forgot how to breathe. I had no lungs to do so, so perhaps it didn't matter. Not many things mattered anymore, I was alive.

He told me how he spent three days looking for the perfect face. He wanted to find someone that looked nearly identical to me, to make things easier, and that I could pick out my own face after this was over. I had no idea what he meant, but I listened anyway. He taught me how to read the strange book he found, and how it gave me my life back. I took it in and read it over a couple of times while he slept next to me in bed. I was to replace his face, apparently. Not the most mortifying thing I've done, if you'd believe me, but certainly up there at the time. After a few days of scouting for a face that looked like Breekon's, he started to fall ill. I felt horrible knowing the exact pain he was dealing with, but being able to do nothing to ease it. I could at least soothe his worries of resurrection and tell him it wouldn't hurt. He seemed to take comfort in that. At last, I held him close to me as he took his final breaths and died in my arms. I shouldn't have cried, I knew there was no need. I knew I was bringing him back. I knew he died as comfortably as he could. I cried anyway. I hunted down his doppelganger and killed him quickly. It wasn't simple, dragging a huge, dead man back to our bedroom without anyone noticing, but nobody liked to question us anymore. The ritual I had to perform was simple. I would peel the face of the stranger, and place it over Breekon's. The passage I was required to read from was... quite vague and metaphorical, but in some strange way, it made sense.

He was corrupted. His body diseased and decrepit, eyes so sunken and lips so cracked and pale his face is unrecognizable. As his conscience fades out of existence, he succumbs to The Rot. But an unrecognizable face is not what The Rot desires. The Rot does not care about who you are and aren't. Instead, he shall never look like himself ever again. With a new face comes a new life, and with a new life, he shall take many faces. With a new face comes many new names, and with new names, he loses his real self to the nature of a Stranger, and all he knew will look upon him and say I Do Not Know You.

Somehow the wind was knocked out of me, even though I lacked lungs. I fell back on the floor, covered in blood, and looked frantically at Breekon. The stranger's face had melted with his, looking frightening and uncanny. I stared in awe. Somehow the divine powers of fuck all managed to fuse his face with someone else's. I kneeled in front of the bed and held his cold hand. He didn't move for a long time. It could have been hours, days even, and I stared at him the entire time. Sometime later, his eyes fluttered open and he appeared to be taking in the new sensations. He looked around the room, and his eyes fell on me. I greeted him with a smile, and a kiss hello.

If nobody could understand us then, they certainly didn't now. We walked out of our room however many mornings later and acted as if nothing happened. We knew they would remain confused and terrified, and we adored it. I'm sure you get it now. I became quite fond of changing my face; it felt liberating to look nothing like me. We gained knowledge of the fears but cared not about what gods there were to consume us with love. We loved each other, and that is all we desire.

I had never known love. I never felt the warm embrace of the being the other half of my heart belonged to. But now that feeling is with me always, and I wish nothing but to share it with you.