#i imagine he bit maliks shoulder without realizing

[ethan-acfan]

Altair bites. Like a lot. His lips are chewed and cracked, and his nails are down to little nubs. If he's losing in a fight, he will bite down as hard as he can and has taken out a chunk of skin before. He doesn't even realize he does it until Malik or Maria (depending on who you ship) point it out, and they only point it out when he bites them during *adult cardio* He has never realized he's done this but now all the "random" scars he has on his finger tips, knuckles, and inside of his mouth make a lot more sense

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of August. We really hope you enjoy this list and that you give these fics a lot of love.

Happy reading!

1) Move Out | Explicit | 1525 words

Harry and Louis are moving in together, so they might as well make the most of Harry's apartment.

2) Take Off Your Business Suit | Explicit | 3082 words

“Yes, let me get another chair.” Louis said, leaning up off of the desk. He stood up but before he could leave the office to get another chair, Harry was grabbing his hand.

The words that came out of Harry’s mouth made Louis’ knees weak and heart beat quicken. “Just sit on my lap.” Harry said. Whatever he said afterwards didn’t make it into Louis’ ears as he was moving quickly over to Harry and placing himself on Harry’s lap.Louis would take anything Harry wanted to give him; hand touching, lap sitting, all of it.

Louis hadn't realized he was holding his breath until it came out in a quiet sigh. “Okay so th-this one will be slightly different right?” He asked as he pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him.

3) So Good, It's Making Me Drool | Explicit | 3364 words

He kept his back turned to Harry, whispering the few words he knew that would make Harry go absolutely wild. “If I’m only yours, maybe you should take me to bed and teach me who I belong to.”

4) What I Like | Explicit | 4245 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

Harry gets tired of the "older women" jokes and the incessant teasing from Louis.

5) ll Belong To Your Creation | General Audiences | 4349words

Louis had always thought it was impossible to do so. Thankfully, upon doing research he learned that he still can as long as there are no complications throughout the whole pregnancy. He also stumble upon a birth vlog where a mum was able to give birth naturally even after going through c-section with her first and second pregnancy.

6) An Axolotl and the Fake Date | Explicit | 5976 words

Harry runs a stall at a farmers market every weekend and Louis comes by one day with an odd request.

7) Feels So Right | Explicit | 8804 words

The one where Louis is Troy, Harry is Gabriella, and we find out what really happened after karaoke at that ski resort...

8) Giallo! | Mature | 9776 words

Louis was a mess. A stuttery mess of weak knees and grass stains on his fresh linen clothes, his cheeks blooming a natural pink that matched his sunburnt nose. Upon his return from University, his family abandon the bustling city of London to bask in the comfort of their summer villa. With such a property came maintenance, Louis' father hired a strapping young fellow with tanned skin littered with ink and a charming smile aided by dimples in both his cheeks. Between reading, baking and painting, Louis stares at Harry, he couldn't help it. They grow close under the sun of Greece in 1989.

9) Interlude: One Night in March | Explicit | 10671 words

Note: This is a sequel to this fic.

“Said I would, didn’t I?” Harry let his hands roam over Louis’s bare back, his muscles rippling with that same frenetic energy he always had, swirling just beneath the skin, just beneath Harry’s fingers. “May come a time I’ll have to carry you again.”

Cupping the back of his head and burying his fingers in Louis’s hair, he pulled Louis back into another deep kiss, moaned a bit when Louis squeezed his chest again, harder this time, like he wanted the shirt off. But instead he drew his hand down Harry’s side and tugged at the hem, as though to say best keep this on, before he licked into Harry’s mouth, drew Harry’s tongue out to play only to pull back enough to speak.

“May come a time I’ll actually fucking let you.”

10) Hate To Smoke (Without Me) | Mature | 12164 words

Sleep. Harry just wants one good night of sleep. However, his neighbour has a thing for headboard-banging-against-the-wall-sex every night. After a secret set-up and a bet, Harry may finally get the sleep he so much desires.

11) Call You Mine | Explicit | 12755 words

“I have a request.”

That’s what Louis Tomlinson says to Harry when he opens the front door a bit too aggressively. The latter feels justified after a round of annoyingly incessant knocking that was much too loud in the drowsy sludge of early Saturday morning.

“Zayn’s asleep,” is Harry’s tired, hoarse reply, irritation prickling at his skin. Less than a minute ago he was in bed, feeling perfectly content sprawled out on the mattress with the chilled air from the fan cool against his bare skin. And now he’s leaning up against the wooden door frame in nothing but his briefs because Zayn’s best mate decided that showing up unannounced at seven in the fucking morning was a brilliant idea.

“I’m not here for him,” says Louis curtly.

12) A Vivid And Wistful Melody | Explicit | 13128 words

"Slowly, he takes his violin out of its case, listens for a few more minutes to Louis’ flute, before joining him as best as he could. The flute stops for a few seconds, and Harry imagines Louis blinking cutely, taken aback, before huffing with a smile, and starting to play again, on a suddenly far happier tune. Harry closes his eyes as he twirls around the living room, violin in hand and music filling the air. He pictures Louis doing the same in his own flat while being careful as to not step on his cat.

Somehow, even with heavy eyes and tired limbs, this is the happiest Harry has ever felt in years."

In which they are neighbours stuck at home and they happen to start talking through a wall with a piano, a violin, and a flute. They end up writing the soundtrack of their own love story.

13) Until This Blood Runs Cold | Explicit | 13685 words

In a town as small as Louis’, everybody knows everybody and gossip spreads faster than the wildfires that rage on just outside their backdoors in the sweltering heat of summer. When something happens here everyone knows about it within seconds. Neighbors call neighbors and notes are left on doorsteps, old telephone lines ringing until there isn’t a single person who is left in the unknown.

So it’s definitely hot gossip when a vampire moves in across the street from him, the very same one who’s just become Louis’ boss.

14) A Road To Hope | Explicit | 18280 words

Note: There is no explicit smut but its implied BL.

“We’re far from the people and their issues, don’t hold back. Please.”

It’s true. They are far away from anything that could stop them, the middle of nowhere being the safest place on Earth for them to fall in love. The sacred land where sacred love is created. However, Louis is certain that even if they weren’t safe, he wouldn’t resist the sight of Harry, his pleading eyes, his warm skin beneath his touch.

15) Your Eyes Of Blue, Your Kisses Too | Explicit | 21785 words

When they get out onto the streets away from the crowds Niall turns to walk backwards, “So did you get any leads?”

“Well- uh.”

Niall shakes his head, “Too busy kissing that pretty boy onstage, I see. Gonna blow the whole case for a piece of ass?”

16) Thinking About Peaches | Explicit | 23724 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #18 on this list.

Eight smutty drabbles following the events of bruise you like a peach.

17) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds | Mature | 38065 words

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

18) Bruise You Like A Peach | Explicit | 40694 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #16 on this list. 

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

19) Falling Out Of Fashion | Explicit | 42123 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry Styles has been the established face of the Grimshaw House of Design for two years. It’s a prestigious and coveted modeling contract Harry took away from once-famed supermodel Zayn Malik. With the model transition Grimshaw’s designs went from a more urban, Zayn-forward aesthetic, to a Harry-favoring flowery, flowing femininity in the Grimshaw designs for men.

So when Harry sees a dress Grimshaw made for a famous Marvel actress, “only a tease”, Nick says, of the evolving look, Harry knows Grimshaw is shifting his aesthetic.

Harry wonders if he can pull off the look.

Or could Grimshaw be looking for a new face?

20) Secretly Dating | Mature | 43615 words

Lottie groaned, looming over Louis with a glare. “If we’re late, Mum and Dad will never let Harry see me – ie. see you.”

It was the first time they openly addressed the fact that Harry saw more of Louis than Lottie on their supposed ‘dates.’ He supposed he knew as much, but it still startled him. “You’ve been setting us up!”

Lottie snorted, cocking out her hip and brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Honestly, Harry. You’re so dense. To be fair, it was at Louis’ request.”

Louis’ mouth gaped like a fish as he jumped to standing position, wobbling only slightly. “Don’t sell me out!”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “Come on lovebirds.”

21) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) | Mature | 95417 words

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

22) The Healing Song | Mature | 111851 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis was carrying the large stuffed elephant like it was a baby, it’s trunk hanging over his shoulder and down his back and it’s front legs were resting around his neck, like it was hugging him. Said elephant was a present from Louis’ close friend Steve, who had thought Louis needed something to hug on bad days and had gifted him with a stuffed elephant the size of a one year old.

Steve had been right. Some days Louis did need something to hug, and this elephant was as good as anything.

Louis was having one of the rougher days. The harmonious state of the anxiety free life of a fearless Louis had ended the week after he met with Harry. It ended as abruptly as it had started. It was like pushing a button. Lights out. Almost as if the universe said “You’ve had your fun, crazy one, now go be sick” and slammed the door in his face.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[slinglouis]

september fic rec!

this one is coming at you all very late, but here are my favorite fics from august that i think you need to read this september! i read a TON of fics last month so these are the ones i absolutely loved! (**  my FAVORITE FAVORITES) 

mine would be you by crinkle-eyed-boo, 115k

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

robbers and cowards by louistomlinsons, 33k

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think that you’re enjoying yourself.” The familiar voice immediately gets Louis’ blood boiling, shoulders tensing as he calmly spins around, trying not to draw any suspicion to the pair. “You don’t know me at all,” Louis spits, managing to maintain the polite smile he’s been wearing all evening. “You’re just some asshole who always ruins my nights.” “If I keep ruining your nights, why do you keep going home with me?” Harry asks, taking a sip from his own wine glass. “I don’t go home with you by any choice of my own,” Louis says. “I think you’re annoying and I have no idea how I keep ending up in your bed.” “You end up in my bed because you knock on my apartment door at two in the morning.” Louis wants to punch the smirk right off of his face. “Maybe you should move,” is what he says instead. or a modern day robin hood au where louis and harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more

Need So Much of You by lululawrence, 47k

“Alright, I’m just going to get right down to it,” Jess said. “We were contacted yesterday by Harry Styles’ team with some information regarding his own schedule and promotion that is going to have some bearing on Louis.”

“Me specifically or all former members of the band?” Louis asked, confused.

“You specifically,” Jess said, looking at Louis with a heavy gaze. “Harry’s going to start his own promo for his second album in the coming months, which is going to include a coming out.”

“That’s great,” he said, nodding. “Is that it? Or is there more?”

Mark shifted in his seat and Louis watched his expression change. “We’ve discussed it and we think it would be best if you came out as well and had a promotional relationship with Harry for the album drop through both of your tours next year.”

Louis started laughing in surprise, but no one else joined in. Shit, they were serious.

Or the would-have-been canon compliant, fake relationship, friends with benefits, friends to lovers fic where Louis wonders if this thing going on with Harry is going to break him or change everything for the better.

waiting for the tides to meet by nauticalleeds, 60k **

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

Spirit to a Dove by alienharry, 97k **

For as long as it’s been on the air, Harry’s been an avid watcher of Trivialities. He’s always imagined what it’d be like to compete on the show himself, and when the opportunity arises, he’s fast tracked to join the new cast for the show’s eighth season.

Alliances are formed, strategies are planned, and Harry finds himself with his very own nemesis. Between trivia and physical challenges, Harry’s making the most of his time in the house, but nothing could’ve prepared him for Louis Tomlinson.

Stranger Stars by shaylea, 212k **

Five years ago, Africa offered a grieving Louis Tomlinson an escape from an England he couldn't tolerate. Now it's become home as he leads overland tours across the continent with his best friend and driver Zayn Malik. What's meant to be just another ordinary six-week trip from Cape Town to Nairobi turns into anything but, when future lawyer/current photographer and songwriter Harry Styles and his friends join Louis' latest set of passengers.

another hazy may by deLILah, 41k **

louis is a terrible poet and harry lives in the now and they have six weeks to fall in love but, really, it only takes six seconds. bookshop meets military meets summer romance au ft. marlboros, the backstreet boys, and underrated literary devices.

Anonymous Said by alivingfire, 21k

When Harry was sixteen, he reached out for someone, anyone, to help him through the hardest days of his life. When Louis was eighteen, he answered. While they didn't know each other's names or faces or lives at all, really, it didn't stop them from falling a little bit in love.

And when Harry moves to Manchester for uni two years later, he meets a boy in a bookshop named Louis and wonders why it all feels so easy.

Or: two boys, two blogs, two years of anonymous messages, and a bookshop where it all comes together.

kiwi by fondleeds, 24k

With a stuttered mixture of a laugh and a groan, Harry lets his head droop, pushes his forehead against Louis’ chest and leans into him, fingers curled around the railing.

"You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes.

Louis lets out a puff of laughter, and when Harry lifts his eyes, the look in Louis’ gaze is one he knows too well, so distinctively coy and mischievous and gently charming, his lips quirked up with a smirk. Harry’s heart falls into the palms of his playful hands. “You’re into it.”

AU. Harry plays on Saturday nights at The Motley. Louis bartends on Saturday nights at The Motley.

It’s a thing.

True Love’s Gold by alivingfire, 28k

Gemma starts responding to every single one of Harry’s texts—regardless of subject—with i don’t care, talk to louis. Liam lets Harry complain to him for hours on Skype, pretending he’s not doing other things while Harry whines about his problems. Niall thinks the whole thing is hilarious, texting Harry links to articles titled So, you want your man to propose? and 15 ways to get him ready for the aisle! and follows each of these up with page upon page of laughing emojis. Harry tries everything, literally everything he can think of short of grabbing Louis by tattooed forearm and yelling, “PROPOSE TO ME BEFORE I COMBUST.”

Or, it takes a village to arrange a proposal, but that doesn't mean it's going to go as planned.

When It’s Late At Night by Rearviewdreamer, 26k

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

you’ve set on me by lissome, 31k

Harry’s been completely blindsided, is the thing. Like a car without headlights crashing into him. It’s not that he thought he’d never see Louis again in his life. It’s just this. He wasn’t ready for this.

au. louis' in an obscure band. harry's an international popstar. their paths aren't meant to cross, not like this, but when louis' band signs on as harry's opening act, both harry and louis are forced to confront the open wounds of their shared past.

[reddeaddamnation]

Imagine their reaction to someone hitting on your daughter/ When they find out your daughter has a boyfriend: [preference] pt. 2

Alexios

You didn't even realize when Alexios stopped walking beside you and had started walking rather angrily towards a young couple in the distance. "Okay, just one more thing I need over ther- Alexios?" You looked behind yourself only to realize he was going to get himself in trouble again... "Alexios!" You yelled after him, but he didn't turn around, so you had to follow him and try to stop him. When you got closer, you finally realized what made him this mad. Your daughter was holding hands and giggling with an unknown to you boy and didn't tell you that she was even seeing someone. "Who do you think you are?!" Alexios yelled, startling the both of them. Your daughter quickly managed to get over the surprise and boldly stepped up to her father "Dad, meet my boyfriend." She told him, her attitude in such a situation, leaving him wonder-stricken. "Alexios, what the hell?" You caught up to him and your eyes scanned the situation until they landed on the unknown boy. "Who is this, D/N?" You asked. "My boyfriend." Your daughter answered with the same expression. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and looked at your husband who was still in the same shock he was the first time he heard that statement. "We are going to have a long talk later, D/N..." He muttered.

Malik al'Sayf

Malik promised to behave during the dinner with his daughter's boyfriend. But there was always that thought in the back of your mind that things might go wrong. "So. How long have you and D/N been together?" Malik asked expectantly, a stoic expression on his face. The boy gulped before answering "Um... Three months now." He answered. “What are your intentions with her?” Malik continued asking, as if he was the policeman and the boyfriend - the suspect. “I-I...I hope to take our relationship to the next level.” the boy answered again, fear in his voice. Malik’s eye twitched slightly and in that moment you knew he was going to say something weird. “If I ever find out you got her pregnant, you can expect to be dead in the next several days! I may have only one arm, but that won’t stop me from killing you!”

La Volpe

“What the hell is wrong with you?!“ you yelled at your husband angrily “You can’t just break into the boy’s house because you decided to!“ As soon as you found out Volpe was going to break into your daughter’s boyfriend’s house in search of who knows what or catch him doing whatever just so he can have something to accuse the boy of, even though you thought he was a pretty good and respectful candidate for your daughter. You patiently waited for Gilberto to come home, arms and legs crossed and the most furious expression you could muster up. “My love, I’d say that is my everyday job.“ He answered with a cheeky smirk, taking off his hood and cape. “Don’t play around with me right now! What were you even looking for?“ you kept yelling, now angrily gesticulating with your hands. “Anything that could prove he isn’t worthy. Letters, books, diaries...“ Gilberto said, suspicion in his voice “Oh my gosh, you read his diary?!“ you slapped your forehead, disbelief screaming in your mind and soul that he could have gotten so far. “I had to know.“ Volpe shrugged his shoulders. “And?“ you raised your eyebrow expectantly “Did you find anything incriminating?“ The thief bit his lower lip, obviously guilty, but too proud to admit it. “Well...no.“ he murmured. “What was that?“ you mocked, leaning closer to hear him say it again. “He’s clean...“ Oh, what a lecture was waiting for him...

Yusuf Tazim

“She has a what?!“ Yusuf asked loudly, more because he didn’t hear it the first time rather than out of disbelief or anger. “[D/N] has a boyfriend. I saw them together the other day.“ you repeated nervously, wondering what his next reaction was going to be. Luckily, you caught him in a good mood, lying back on a pile of pillows and wanting nothing more than some rest after a long day. “A boyfriend?“ he furrowed his brows, letting the information sink in. For a moment you thought he was going to get angry and start ranting about how it isn’t her time and how he isn’t ready to let go of his little girl yet, but his next words sent a wave of shock through you. “Aah, good for her, good for her! We should invite him some time to talk then! I’ll sit down, have a drink with him! Tell him I even invite him to share a hookah with me!“ (A/N: It was a tradition in the Ottoman empire that when someone invites someone to smoke hookah with them, the other person can’t refuse, because it’s a sign of great respect and trust) It was your turn to be baffled and silent, because you didn’t expect such an outcome, but still relief washed over you. “A-alright, I’ll...“ you spoke slowly, eyebrow raised “I’ll make sure to tell them both.“

Adewale

You could tell a lot of thoughts were going through your husband’s mind the moment you mentioned [D/N] having a boyfriend. And it was true. The man was angry, because his daughter didn’t tell him personally; distrusting towards the boyfriend; anxious for their future and afraid his little bird will fly away from the nest too soon. And when Edward was telling him about the same fears he has for his own daughter, Ade merely brushed him off and told him he has to get used to it sooner or later. Now, the next time they go out for a drink, he will be the one talking about those things and Edward will comfort him that everything will be alright. Ultimately, he decided he wasn’t going to make it too much of a big deal. “You know what, [Y/N]?” he sighed heavily “I’ll give him a chance. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy too.” a smile stretched across his lips, but quickly faded and a serious, menacing expression replaced it, which could have scared any potential candidate for his daughter’s hand. “But if I see him doing anything suspicious, I’m afraid he won’t be seen again.” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his cheek a peck “Whatever you say, darling.”

Christopher Gist

“I say, my good lad, it’s a pleasure to meet you.“ Gist extended his hand to shake his apparently new potential son-in-law’s. A seemingly friendly smile was on his face and you thought everything was going to be alright during this dinner. The boy took the bait and shook his hand with a smile of his own and all the nervousness from [D/N] vanished as soon as she witnessed this. “Come, have a glass of whiskey. And my personal favorite, as well! You drink whiskey don’t you?“ Your husband asked, already pouring him a glass without waiting for an answer. “Of course, sir.“ The boy took the glass from Gist, still oblivious of the trap. “Often?“ Christopher tried to keep the friendly smile on his lips, but you saw he was getting irked already. “No, sir. Only on occassion.“ The answer seemed to please him, but he wasn’t ready to let go yet. “How about a smoke?“ The older man pulled out a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, which he especially bought for this, even though he himself doesn’t smoke. “No thank you, sir, I don’t smoke.“ The politeness of this boy charmed you, but your husband wasn’t so easy trusting. That answer pleased him as well and he put the cigarettes back in his pocket. “You know, you remind me of my own youthful days, son. I used to be outside more than inside, myself. Always going somewhere with someone or even just walking down a street to count how many steps it took until I reach the end of it. I can even recall my mother, my own mother, asking who I was when I entered my house one day.“ Gist laughed loudly, making everyone around him uncomfortable, but you still let out a small giggle so he doesn’t laugh alone. “Must have been quite a moment.“ [D/N]’s boyfriend chuckled awkwardly. “And you, lad? Seems to me [D/N] is almost never home when she’s with you.“ the young couple blushed furiously and your daughter yelled “Dad!“ You sighed and pulled him out of the room to whisper “Don’t embarass yourself to look for things that aren’t even there!“

Pierre Bellec

One evening, when Pierre burst through the door of your apartment, you swore you have never seen him this scared even in the most dire of situations he has gotten himself into. “[Y/N], you are not gonna believe this!” he panted heavily. Apparently he had been running for awhile just to get these surreal news to you before he is killed along the way. You raised your eyebrow expectantly. “It’s [D/N]... I just saw her with a...a...” he bit his lip, not even wanting to say the word because it would taint his very soul. “A what, cherie?” you insisted, interest peaked. “She has a boyfriend!” Your laugh wasn’t something he expected or anticipated, because he stared at you, baffled. “So? She’s at that age, Pierre. There’s nothing wrong going on.” you kept giggling in his direction. “How can you laugh in a time like this! She’s still too young!” he insisted. “Dear, however old [D/N] is, she will always seem like a child to you. Don’t worry. Even if she has a boyfriend, it doesn’t change the fact that you are her father and she loves you for it.” Your words seemed to touch his heart, because his expression softened and he didn’t utter another word, but merely walked over to the couch and slumped down on it, almost like he was defeated. “I don’t trust him.” were his next words and you knew for the rest of the evening he was going to talk only about that.

Henry Green

You didn’t doubt him for a second. Henry was very open minded about the situation and surprisingly, he found many topics to talk about with his potential son-in-law and soon found out the two have a lot in common. You knew he wasn’t going to get jealous or anything and didn’t have to worry about your husband acting weird and suspicious towards the boy. [D/N] was confident as well and even happy she and her boyfriend were at such a point where they were meeting each other’s parents. Conversation was easy going, you were laughing and smiling... Henry even offered to the boy to invite his parents next time to join them as well. “I only hope to see [D/N] in a wedding dress. I’m sure she will be beautiful.” Henry told the boy, watching him expectantly, but the only answer he received was a loud “Dad!” from [D/N] and her boyfriend blushing like a tomato, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

[mrneighbourlove]

The Rising Sun: Ch 7. Hail the King

Donoma did not know who was worse for presentation; her brother or her father. Both of them had a flare for the dramatics. With a huge sigh, Donoma asked again, "Dad, I'm telling you, you look fine, can we go now?"

“I have to look absolutely flawless.” Malik took the cucumber off his face, moving over to his selection of robes and armour. “Which one do you concur?”

"You're as bad as Ganondorf and he's the one who has to look pretty all the time. Even more so than Zelda did." Donoma rolled her eyes and then she gestured to the golden armor her mother had made all those years ago. "I know this one is your favorite. Mom made it for you. I'd say either wear that one or just walk out in nothing but underwear. That'd make a statement. You know, like Revan did when he got drunk for the first time."

“I just want this to go right.”

"It's going to go fine, I mean, all you got to do is strut out there, say some fancy stuff, and they'll cheer, and be happy." Donoma held up a black robe for him to wear underneath the armor. "I mean, unless you fart really loud, I doubt it could go wrong."

“Donoma...” Malik gave her a look as he got dressed.

"What? Just trying to lighten the mood." Donoma shrugged her shoulders. "You look and sound so serious. Everything you've helped with concerning the town, the people already love you, so just... chill."

“You sure you aren’t deflecting your own feelings on becoming a middle child?”

"Nah, more so worried about you and Mom becoming like... parents again when you should be grandparents in a few years." Donoma admitted. "Though it will work out for the best."

“Oh?” Malik jumped on that immediately. “Found someone have you?”

"Not me, but Mom swears that Nakeso and Revan will get hitched soon."

“Really now? That seems...” Malik decided not to finish that thought. “Well, you’re right. We should be going.” To complete his set, Malik placed a royal helmet atop his head. “No more distractions. Let us be off.”

"That's what she said, I have no idea where she developed the ability to see the future." Donoma stood from the chair. "All right, let's go."

The whole Town was in celebration, watching in anticipation for Malik to enter the spiritual grounds of the temple. The statue of the Sand Goddess smiled down upon them all as Malik made his way through the crowd. They didn’t cheer out of respect for the grounds, but smiled in happiness for the event at hand.

An older shaman stood at the end as Malik stood on a sun carpet. “Lord Malik. You have dedicated your entire life to the restoration of the Gerudo people. You have lived, died, and lived again for all of us. No other man is worthy of the title of King of the Gerudo. Do you, the people, accept Malik as our King?”

The entire chamber echoed. “We do. With all our hearts.”

“And do you, Malik, promise to put the Gerudo people first.”

“I do.”

“Then take off your helmet so I may place upon you the crown jewel.”

Malik did so, taking his head gear off. The shaman then carefully took off his Gerudo jewel, placing it in her pocket for safe keeping. Walking to a box, she took out a perfect diamond. Placing it on Malik’s head, she nodded. “This diamond was taken from the heart of a Kryat Dragon native to the desert, an apex predator long ago. It is a symbol of might and mastery. With this, I dub you King Malik!”

Asakonigei wanted to attend the celebration, but now, both Doctor Boveir and some of the midwives had agreed that she be on strict bedrest. So, she patiently waited for her husband to come visit after his grand moment. She was still miffed about his apparent decision without her. As much as she tried, the Kovina could not imagine life out here in the desert. Her relatives were not here. Her friends were not here. There was hardly any metal for her to morph. It seemed insane to Asakonigei, to move away from all they had built as a family in Hyrule. Yet, she also wanted her husband to be happy. It was a nuisance, all this planning. He said he wanted more time with her. Now, as a 'ruler' of these Gerudo women, he'd have less time than he thought he would. It still did not make sense to her.

Though she had little time to think of sense. Her sheets were wet. Lifting up the blanket, she saw that her water had broke. Taking a nervous breath, she informed her attendant. "Please... go get my husband. Tell him his child is about to be born."

As if fate got its jollies out of cruelty, a wave of pain filled Asa’s being. This baby would be anything but easy.

Asakonigei knew she could not panic, but she was afraid. Though, it would not do her any good here. She managed to slide off the bed, 'sitting' on her knees. Holding the sheets, she gripped the fabric tightly as contractions came with a vengeance. Removing her decorative leather tie, she bit on the material and groaned loudly, her eyes watering. It was hard to breathe through such pain.

As she struggled, the baby struggled, stretching and hurting their mother in its journey to escape. Meanwhile, as Malik was ready to address the townsfolk, Gali pushed her way through the crowd to make her way to the King. “King Malik. It’s your wife!” Malik’s eyes expanded with a golden ferocity at the interruption. He knew Gali wouldn’t alert him unless the baby was coming.

Shouting an order in Gerudo, every woman scattered at his command. They would not celebrate until his wife was safe and sound with his child healthy in her arms.

Donoma had rushed to help her mother. She fetched warm water, blankets, anything necessary that the women told her to obtain. Even a few of the midwives were already there, trying to coach Asakonigei into breathing properly and making her as comfortable as possible. The women had heard her cries of pain and knew what was happening. As soon as Malik entered the tent, a few of the women tried to get him to wait outside.

“No. I’m not abandoning her now.” Malik made his way beside Asa, holding her hand. When he looked down, his stomach churned. “She’s bleeding.”

Gali had her hands rolled up, scrambling with the other nurse maids. “I know.”

Asakonigei was half-dazed with pain, but she recognized Gali. Grabbing the woman's hand with a crunching grip, she managed to pant, "Remember... what I asked... of you."

“I know. I’ll keep it.”

Malik looked at Asa, watching the colour slowly drain from her face. “No. You can’t give up.”

"I won't..." Asakonigei closed her eyes and tried to choke back a whimper. Blood was freely flowing now. Dear spirits, it was agony, but she managed to steel her nerves but gripping the sheets, nearly ripping the fabric. "... let my baby die..."

“No. I will not allow it.”

“King Malik, there are some things-!”

Malik didn’t let Gali defy his will. Slowly, he put one hand on Asakonigei’s womb. The other he raised to the heavens. If he held the power of a god, then he was fit to wield it as he saw fit. And he would not lose a second wife. The Triforce of Power glowed, and taking from the cosmos Malik willed life into Asa. This baby would survive, and she would live to see it. Although the energy was warm, the Gerudo were astonished and fearful to see the light flow through Malik and into his wife.

Zarazu was in the process of packing a care bag for her friend. Hearing that Asakonigei was pregnant again certainly was shocking at their age, but nonetheless, every woman would appreciate some fresh diapers and blankets. The queen was checking their closet for the missing breast sling when she heard her husband suddenly yell. Rushing back to the sleeping chamber, she found Covarog on his side, grasping at his chest. His face looked ashen and he was struggling to breath. "I... m-my..." The king gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks from the sudden pain. "M-My heart..."

"COVAROG!!!" Zarazu flung herself down beside her husband and held his face. She was barely holding onto common sense. "What's... what's going on?! Is your chest tight? Can you not breathe?! Tell me!"

"Mom!" Luimaya poked her head into tent and her eyes went wide at the sight of her father on the ground. "Dad?!?! What's going on?!"

"Your father suddenly fell, I don't know what could be causing---...!!!!!" Zarazu had a horrible realization. What if... the Tri-Force was connected to Ganondorf's blood... including her husband? His siblings? If Malik would use the magic, spend it all... "Go get Malik!"

"But Asa is---!!!"

"NOW!!!"

Revan watched in horror at the King collapsing. Snapping out of it enough, he looked around and shouted to the staff. “King Covarog needs medical attention! Go!!!”

While Zarazu was trying to calm her husband, Asakonigei was still in discomfort but at least now, it was manageable. She felt light-headed, but tried her hardest to focus. Was it the blood loss? The voices were drowning in and out of her ears, like an echo. Gali was demanding that she push with all she had. Malik was... glowing. That was odd. Maybe she really was starting to see things. The Kovina did not even realize she was screaming so loud, but finally, the baby was born... a baby boy.

Gali caught the baby, and the Gerudo quickly and surgically cut the cords connecting the two. Malik looked down at the baby, stunned by the gender of the baby. A boy? Did will a son into existence? “Asa. Are you alright?”

Asakonigei was half-conscious. While the magic saved her, she still experienced blood loss and excruciating pain. She could barely understand what was going on around her. Still, she managed to formulate a response. "I th-think... I'm going to f-faint..."

“Our son Asa. We have a son.” Malik looked to Donoma, his hand still glowing as he kept his hand on Asa with a smile. “You have a baby brother now.”

Donoma was keeping a rag on her mother's head, trying to help her stay conscious. She was not expecting a baby brother, that was for sure. Usually Gerudos were predominantly female. "He is... anogite..." Asakonigei was having a hard time remembering Hylian for a moment. "Gifted to us... by the spirits, with love..."

Yet, before the moment could be cherished, Luimaya busted into the tent. "Malik!!! M-My dad... my dad collapsed!!! Mom's trying to help him, he can't breathe!!! H-H-He keeps saying his-" She had to take an inhale through the tears. "His heart!!!"

“Princess, calm yourself around my wife and baby! What are you talking about? How did you even get here?” With a snap of his finger, he pointed Donoma to the princess. “Donoma, help her.” Malik walked over to his son, carefully cradling him. A name. He needed to think of a name.

"It all started just a few minutes ago!" Luimaya was rambling, her emotions high and she was clearly afraid for her father. "I heard Dad yell, and then I saw him on the floor with Mom! She screamed at me to get you and to tell you to 'stop using it'!"

"Stop using what?" Donoma took over her friend's care as soon as Gali had her mother situated.

"I don't know!"

Gali was slowly feeding Asa water to regain her strength. “Minutes ago? Princess, that’s so far away.”

"I don't give a shit how far away it was, it seemed like minutes maybe it was seconds, I don't know, my father is in trouble, please, please, please my mother needs you!!!" Luimaya was a sobbing mess.

Malik noticed his son start to grow distraught as Luimaya’s emotions flared. Good. He was already connected with the emotions of others. Still, he should not be sad on his first day of life. “Luimaya. I will join you, but you have to give me time here first. You came at a closed window of opportunity.”

"Go with her." Asakonigei finally managed to regain some of her rational thought. Thanks to Gali and the water in her body, the Kovina felt slightly better. She was sore, but very worried at Luimaya's obvious distress. "Our queen needs you. I'm all right. Your son is all right. Gali will take care of me."

“Your Queen.” Malik looked down at his son, watching the light glisten off his red hair. He had his hair. Everyone watched in anticipation at what Malik would do next. Carefully brushing his hair, looked to Luimaya. Her tears were still falling down her face as he decided on his next course of action. “Asa... look after… Takunova. I won’t be long.”

"I'll tell her she said that, and... she'll kick your butt." Asakonigei said in her old sense of dry humor. "Takunova will be fine with me and Gali. I trust these women to help me. Go. Our family needs you."

"Th-Thank you..." Luimaya managed to speak shakily, her nerves shot. She didn't want to lose her father.

Malik held her shoulders gently, massaging them to calm her nerves. “Now. How do we get to him quickly?”

"H-He's with M-Mom in their tent." Luimaya swallowed hard. "Carca'sec flew me here. He n-never leaves my side."

“Then we’ll fly back to Hyrule. Calm your emotions, and hope Carca’sec can complete the greatest sprint of his life. Let us be off.”

~

Revan never got a chance to accompany Luimaya back to Hyrule. She left too quickly as he was helping Castle staff help Zarazu and Covarog with the crisis. Worried out of his mind, all Revan could do was pace outside the king’s room.

Covarog was sweating profusely while lying in bed. Doctor Boveir along with several Dusas were in the room, trying their best to keep the king stable. Not even the magic of the healing Dusas was working. Zarazu had never seen anything like it. The Dusas were known for being able to fix several ailments, even heart attacks, but nothing was working.

"Revan!!!" Luimaya ran down the hallway, nearly colliding with her friend as she awaited his news. "What's going on? Is Dad okay?! Where's Mom?!"

“They’re both here! Luimaya, where did-” When he saw his father stroll in, he stopped in his tracks. He had dried blood on his hands and the most serious look on his face. “Father?”

“Where is King Covarog?”

"I went to fetch your father on Carsa'sec." Luimaya hurriedly explained to Revan. "Mom ordered me to get him."

Malik paused before the door, taking one last look at Revan before entering. “You have a baby brother now and your mother is still alive.” With that revelation hanging, Malik entered the chamber of Hyrule’s royalty, where Covarog was resting bedside.

Zarazu looked stricken with worry. It was evident she had been crying at one point, but was trying to hold it together for the sake of her children. There, she sat in a chair beside of Covarog's bed. He was unconscious, wheezing with each breath. As soon as Malik entered the room, the Lorleidian queen looked slightly relieved.

“What happened you...” Malik watched Covarog wheeze and gasp for air. Repeating the question, he looked to his wife. “What happened to him?”

"This happened... as soon as one of the Gerudo women, Gali, I believe, used the Water Mirror I lent her to message me about Asa's labor." Zarazu spoke softly, trying not to start her tears again. "I believe... the curse that has haunted Ganondorf, Zelda, and Rinku for ages is now trying to harm my husband. It is tied to Ganondorf's blood..." She took a breath and shakily said, "His bloodline."

“Cosmic fate can be cruel Zarazu.” Malik carefully walked over to Covarog’s bedside, looking down at the man he considered a nephew. Carefully, he whispered into his ear. “Covarog. Can you hear me?”

There was no response from the king. He was heavily medicated by Doctor Boveir and the healers trying to keep his discomfort to a minimum. His skin was paling and there were dark circles forming under his eyes. It was so unusual to see the mighty king brought to this state. "Cosmic fate be damned, he doesn't deserve this." Zarazu held her husband's hand tightly. "He hasn't done anything to deserve this."

“Cosmic fate?” Malik slowly trailed his hand over Covarog’s heart, the Triforce of Power glowing. He wanted to desperately heal the man, but something knocked at him not to try, least he cause more damage. “Is he stable?”

"For now." Zarazu nodded. "I'm just... trying to figure out how these pieces work." She looked at her hand, seeing the Wisdom triangle glowing at her. "Now I'm afraid to even use my piece. What if I hurt Kanisa? Or Orana? One of their children? Ralnor?"

“Why would you hurt them? That’s a choice on your part.”

"Not intentionally, but Zelda is... was..." Zarazu corrected her words. "Linked to the Wisdom piece of the Tri-Force. What if... when I use it, it has a negative impact on Kanisa or Orana? If they were supposed to get the piece and not me?"

“Where are you going with this? The goddesses... I’m certain they don’t act like that. If you weren’t worthy of the piece, I doubt it’d stay with you for long.”

"That's exactly my point, Malik." Zarazu turned to look at her friend, taking her eyes of her husband only for a moment. "What if the goddesses are still trying to find a way to punish Ganondorf, Zelda, and Rinku after all this time? If the piece falls into someone's hands that is not them, what will it do? What if it still haunts their descendants even after all this time of peace?"

“There have been others in our history who have wielded the Triforce with peace and prosperity. King Daphnes of Hyrule, The Fabled Time Witches, the Sages. I’m certain we are chosen for this. We are the keepers of the Triforce until Ganondorf and Zelda rise again. I know we can only do good with them; we can save lives.”

"... what if... Ganondorf and Zelda are not going to rise again?" Zarazu questioned Malik. "The same for Rinku. That is why the Tri-Force could be doing this."

“That’s paranoia. I thought the same once. Waiting for Ganondorf for so long made me question my views.” Malik looked down to Covarog, sighing. “I can’t help him more than the doctors here or you can.”

"Paranoia... or intuition." Zarazu squeezed Covarog's hand, kissing his knuckles. "Doctor Boveir told me there's nothing else he can do. My Dusas', their magic isn't working upon him. It has to be part of the curse. The only way to stop a curse is... a sacrifice."

Malik looked up to the glass stain sealing, taking a deep breath of regret. Ganondorf often got what he wanted with the Triforce of Power by sacrificing others. The sacrifice of the self could work, but was rare. “You’re right... there is a way, but your family would hate me for it.”

"... not you, Malik." Zarazu carefully summoned the piece of Wisdom and... set it on the nightstand. She was not going to take a chance of the Tri-Force piece influencing the magic she was born with from birth. "Long ago, people came to Lorleidi to seek help with curses. Even though a lot of the spells have been lost to history, there are a few still known."

“Zarazu... I could do it for you. I could cipher the life you have into Covarog. You don’t need to do that for-!!!” The moment Malik saw Zarazu separated her piece from herself and put it on the nightstand, his hand burn with light. There was a hunger to become whole. Grasping his hand, he hid it behind his cape. “I saved Asa, I could save Covarog. Don’t take the risk yourself.”

"I... I think what you did to save Asa somehow hurt Covarog. I... I can't risk using my piece. I don't want you to use your piece either unless it is necessary." Zarazu stood from her seat and asked Malik. "Please... leave me with him."

“No. How can you say that of me?” That stunned Malik that Zarazu could even think of accusing him of hurting the King. “You didn’t bring me all this way to throw accusations at me. You called me to help him. If you are willing to part some of your life energy, I can do that.”

"I am not accusing you, Malik. I know you would never, ever do such a thing intentionally to hurt Covarog." Zarazu said softly. "He is your family. Yet, I can't shake the feeling that these Tri-Force pieces... something is wrong." She then said. "Life energy will not fix this. The Dusas already tried." She started summoning the ancient runes from her wrists. "Yet tying his life to mine... just might."

“If you will not let me help, then you’ve wasted my time. My wife needs me. My baby needs me.”

"Damn it, Malik, I did not summon you here to waste your time!" Zarazu lost her composure for a moment and snapped. "I asked you here for your support! To warn you of using the pieces of the Tri-Force, to show you what happened. Something is wrong and I know it! I don't want anyone else getting hurt. I don't want you getting hurt either!"

“I know that overly using the Triforce is dangerous! I’m practically a historian on the subject! But these are tools that we can’t be afraid of using, because if we are, they will use us. Or worse, we will lose them to those who have more malicious intents in their hearts.” Malik pointed to the Triforce of Wisdom on the table. “Are you afraid of the responsibility? Because I will carry it if you can’t.” Malik then aggressively pointed at himself. “A mortal gets consumed by the power and you think that of me? I am the power. I am the one who saves innocents and destroys enemies.”

The Gerudo King paused, taking a moment to choose his words. “If I did this to Covarog... I’m so sorry. But... I did it to save my wife and child. A wife who I barely managed to save. Now you want my support? Then let me save him.”

“Luimaya needs her mother to guide her for her destiny. I can’t allow you take what time you have left with her away.” Malik clenched his fist, ready to take action if need be. “Make the wise choice on your own and have me ciphen life into him. Ba’Puu. Myself. I can always restore my own life. But if you can’t make that choice for yourself, I’ll make it for you. It’ll be quicker, easier.”

"... you said yourself once that power was addictive. Like a drug. Once, you even said you feared if you had another dose of such power, you would revert to your old self. The 'Blade of the Gerudo'. Klinge." Zarazu froze the runes in midair. "I gave you your new life. I won't be responsible for you risking yourself."

“... Don’t you dare disturb me again.” Malik released his grip and turned to walk out the door. He could feel the near future; see the path that lied before him. Zarazu wasn’t the face of Hyrule anymore. “I can’t change your mind. It seems you’ve replaced wisdom with foolishness on this matter. But I have nothing more to say. As King of the Gerudo, I’ll have to work directly with your successor.”

"... still so angry after all this time, my old friend. When will you learn?" Zarazu sounded... sad. "Maybe one day, you too, will be able to find peace." Activating the runes, the Lorleidian queen said, "This spell will not kill me. It will only give half of my remaining years to my husband. When he dies... I will die too."

“I’m past angry. I’m just tired. Now. I have a child to see.” Malik opened the door, not looking back as he shut it closed behind him. Waste of his time. Coming out of his thoughts and back into reality, he didn’t realize the rest of the family had gathered to wait on them. “Luimaya. Your mother is going to cut her life in half to save your father. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t convince her to see another path.”

"....?!?!?! It's... it's that bad?" Luimaya looked grief stricken. She was squeezing Revan's hand so hard for comfortable. Biting her lip, the princess took a moment to collect her thoughts. The princess did not want to lose either of her parents. Though, she knew that her mother would not live long without her father either. Dying of heartbreak was real. "Mom loves Dad. She'd do anything for him. I... understand why she's doing this."

Malik sighed deeply, reflecting on his thoughts. “I’d have done the same. I’ll have to teach you when she’s gone....”

“Dad?”

“Nothing. Care for those you love. Tell them how you feel. You might never get the chance again. I’m going to go home now.”

"... you shouldn't have yelled at her." Turagor was there with his sister. He had been listening in on the conversation between Malik and his mother. Something was going on that the heirs to the crown did not know about, and he did not like it. It seemed Luimaya's twin had picked up some sneaky habits from his dear old uncle. "You wouldn't try to stop Mom from doing this unless there was a good reason. What aren't you telling us?"

"...? Turagor?" Luimaya looked at her brother, confused. "What do you mean?"

"They're hiding something." Turagor stated simply to his sister, wanting an answer from the old friend of the family. "Malik and Mom spoke of 'your destiny'. I've heard rumors from Uncle Ralnor's office and Leere talking to something in the walls about a prophecy concerning you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, and from what little I know, I don't like it." Turagor gave Malik a hard look. "Ganonpa giving the Tri-Force piece to you and not Dad. Grandmama giving the Tri-Force piece to Mom and not Orana or Kanisa. Rinku not having any big and bad foe to fight in all these years. Something isn't right and I want to know what's going on, especially if it concerns our family."

"Turagor, now isn't the time---"

"It is the time!" He insisted. "Dad's dying! Mom's trying to save him! She's insisting something is wrong with the Tri-Force pieces! Said she feels it with her own magic. Like... like the Tri-Force is decaying! There's an unbalance. That's what she said!"

“Boy. Sit. Down.” Every word that left Malik escalated into more powerful, cold shade that commanded Turagor to be silent. “I am the keeper of Power because I am more worthy of it then anyone else. Your mother is the keeper of Wisdom because she makes the hardest choices no one else will... and you do not speak of destiny unless you wish to provoke the gods into granting us all a terrible threat. It is not the time because I say it’s not the time.”

“Dad, we-”

Revan grew quiet when Malik raised a hand to silence the room. After a few moments, he continued. “If the Triforce is “decaying” then that is an illusion. The Triforce itself acts as a beacon of life, holding our world together. And there has been imbalance since the dawn of time. It’s how the world is. Now, you will compose yourselves. You will all take a deep breath. And in ten minutes, when your mother is done her work, you will go see your father. Now answer me, do I make myself clear? Do you understand? Can I get a yes from you?”

Turagor continued to glare at Malik. He was not afraid of the man. The young prince was angry about the whole situation. If his fearful grandfather was so worried of the past repeating itself, then he should have given the Tri-Force of Power to another family member besides Covarog to keep it within Hyrule walls. Knowing of Malik's past, Klinge's past, he thought the decision was a bad one. He agreed with his Aunt Rinku and his mother. The magic felt different. There was discord in the world. Why did no one else seem to sense it?

"You're the keeper of power because my grandfather is daft in his age. I believe my mother. Something is wrong with the Tri-Force. If you're trying to get me to believe it's an illusion, then tough luck." Turagor stated with gritted teeth. "And if you try to use it again, something worse will happen. Don't speak to me like I'm a child."

"Turagor! Please!" Luimaya was not in the right frame of mind for arguing. "Whatever secret is being held can be discussed another time. We need to support Mom."

"I'm done." Turagor threw up his hands and tromped in the direction of the medical bay. "I'm going to get Doctor Boveir in case some other shit is stirred up by those damnable relics. If anything, the man can at least restart a heart."

"Turagor, come back---"

"I need a minute, Luimaya. I'll be back." Down the hallway, Turagor was gone.

"... Malik... I know you don't believe Mom, but... what if she is right..." Luimaya had no energy to argue, but simply speculated. "The ruler of the Lorleidians is magic incarnate. If she says something is wrong, maybe... it's best to exercise caution. Not only for you, but Rinku and Mom as well. If..." She swallowed, not wanting to make Malik upset, but had to state her honest thoughts. "If the magic is unstable... it could end up hurting not only you, but those around you. The Tri-Force of power is not only magic, but a weapon. Please... be careful."

Malik looked at her with almost dead eyes, yet still had a light smile. Turning to an open area free of people, Malik reached a hand out. With the Triforce of Power, he created a portal back to the desert. Everyone could feel the heat as the hot wind blew his cap back. "Luimaya. The Triforce of Power is a part of me. If it is a weapon, so am I. But know that when you become Queen, I will watch over you in your time of need." Reaching down, he pulled her in for a hug. Letting go, he patted his stunned son on the shoulder and walked through back into his home.

Revan couldn't move. He didn't know what to say.

When Malik opened the portal, Covarog released a piercing scream. Zarazu was working hard with her magic, but the entire process was fighting her. Battling a curse was a difficult feat that few could master. Luimaya nearly jumped out of her skin and felt her heart sink. Was her mother... correct? As Malik said his goodbyes, the princess stood there in shock. There were so many unanswered questions. She was upset, she was afraid, but most of all... she was furious. "Revan..." Luimaya had a stoic expression upon her visage. "We need to talk to Uncle Ralnor."

"I- I don't-" Revan couldn't find the words to express his emotion he was feeling as his stomach churned inside. Quickly, though, he found himself sitting back down.

"Your father says he will watch over me... but he's not giving me the answers I require. I am tired of my own family hiding whatever this secret is from me." Luimaya knew in her heart that her parents were not returning to the throne after this incident. Her father would be weakened. Her mother would have few remaining years. It was her time. The coronation would have to take place firstly, but for now, she had to handle issues while her parents were occupied. "My first order as your queen-in-waiting," She commanded. "Find out what they are hiding from me. Whether it be my own family, friends... even your father. Then take your dragon, As'wana, to the desert to check on your mother."

"I... as you command." Revan got up, taking a deep breath. "I think your first bet is to seek out the sages. They aren't necessarily bounded to the crown, but to the greater good of Hyrule."

"... do you think my Aunt Zizi would have answers?"

"Perhaps. Or Lady Leere or Rinku." Revan finished gathering his spirit, and stood tall. "I will gather what I can. But I think you should see your father first."

"I'll wait until Mom is finished." Luimaya looked at the closed doors. "I can sense her working still. The curse is strong."

“The Triforce is holy in nature. And the curse of Demise shouldn’t affect your father. I fear something far more sinister and twisted is at work here...”

"Even holy objects can still cause death. Holy magic causes the death of darkness. But this... this is something else." Luimaya did not know how else to say it. "While the curse of Demise is not with my father, perhaps there is another one upon the Tri-Force. To drain the life of those connected to Ganondorf and Zelda. If I have a destiny, and this destiny is so important that I cannot know it," She stated her conclusion, "Then if my father was gone, the next person to be affected would be me. If I was gone, then this destiny of mine could not be fulfilled. I believe... something or someone... is going to come after me for a reason. And I need to know why."

~

Malik stepped through the portal and back onto Gerudo land. It appears he didn’t startle anyone with his appearance. Immediately, he looked at the Golden Triforce on his arm. Was he responsible for Covarog’s pain? No. He couldn’t be. There was something else at work trying to divide the keepers of the Triforce. And, in time, he’d find out what. When his people saw them, they were all worried and confused as to why he left, and how he returned so quickly. “My people. King Covarog suffered a heart attack. I wish to inform you he is stable though. Despite this, today is a day of celebration. But keep the King of Hyrule in your hearts.”

With that announcement, Malik marched his way to see his wife, daughter, and now newborn son.

"This is quite a new look for you, Mom." Donoma had stayed with her mother, trying to help with Takunova. "To tell you the truth, I didn't really expect... well, this." The young woman held up a strand of her mothers formerly black hair. There was one, long streak of gold there now. Solid gold. "Do you think it's the influence of the magic?"

"Either way, I'm not digging the blonde." Asakonigei was resting in bed, holding Takunova against her breast. The little boy was suckling, content to be warm and fed. "I might cut it off."

"What if grows back blonde?"

"... then I suppose I'll dye it."

Malik entered the bedroom, patting Gali on the back for a job well done looking after them. “Asa... blonde isn’t a bad look you know.”

"I look like I'm trying to be a teenager again. You do remember when your own son had the brilliant idea to dye his hair red and it turned purple?"

"Oh spirits, that was hilarious." Donoma giggled. "He sulked for days."

“Indeed.” Malik pulled a chair close, looking at his son fondly. “Is he safe? Are you both alright?”

"Takunova is doing fine." Asakonigei patted her newborn's back gently as he fed. "He hasn't cried. It's a little odd to me, both Revan and Donoma cried. But he's been really quiet and seems to just look at everyone and everything with his beautiful blue eyes. I think he at least got that from me." She chuckled. "Taku, say hello to your father."

"And Mom is fine as well." Donoma added. "So far, she's just a little sore."

“That’s good. Can I hold him?”

"Support his head." Asakonigei reminded her husband as she carefully handed Taku to him. "Isn't he a handsome boy?"

“He is. He has my look.” Malik looked to his daughter, smiling. “Yours too.”

"You mean the red hair?" Donoma asked with a grin. "Revan's going to be jealous."

"Hey now, there's nothing wrong with black hair."

"And blonde now."

"Oh hush."

“I’m just happy you are all fine and well.”

"He's healthy, I'm fine, we're all good." Asakonigei assured her husband. "Is our queen all right? Her husband?"

“Covarog... Covarog has suffered a heart attack.”

"....?!?! What?!" Asakonigei sat up straighter in bed. "Is he all right? How did this happen?! What about Zarazu?!"

“He is alive. That’s what matters. As for Zarazu and her family, of course they are distraught.”

"What did our queen say? She summoned you for a reason."

“She wanted to see if I could save him. I couldn’t.”

"Covarog has always been in great health. This could not have happened randomly..."

“No. Zarazu believes that by me saving your life, I took from his unknowingly.” Malik let Takunova play with his finger, telling himself that he’d have done it again.

"... because... of the Tri-Force?"

“That’s what she believes. I think it’s only made to appear so... which is far more frightening to me.”

"It's possible." Asakonigei stated. "You told me a long time ago that the curse from the Golden Goddesses has haunted Gnaondorf, Zelda, and Rinku for centuries. What if now, some sort of curse is being passed to their children? It's the first time this has happened."

“No. Absolutely not. The Golden Goddesses have never cursed the Gerudo. That has always been from Ganon- no, Demise. And any dark being before or after.” Malik was very adamant on that fact. “As much as I cursed the Gods for favouring the Hylians, that... that came from my own hate of feeling the Gerudo have always struggled. No thanks to Ganon over the millennias.”

"... what if they did curse them now?" Asakonigei felt horrible for her queen. She had to be absolutely terrified of losing Covarog. "The Seven Siblings, our spirits, warned the first queen of our people long ago not to let the Sacred Relics fall into evil's hand. Ganondorf took them. You saw what happened to Lorleidi."

“The Spirits of Hyrule added us during the battle against Vul’kar. They liberated the Hasai to align with Hyrule. The Gods are not angry with us.” Malik almost hissed. “We’ve been nothing but loyal to them.” Malik gently rocked his newborn son gently to ease his own stress. “We have enemies Asa. Enemies that’d love to see our faith shaken.”

"You once cursed the goddesses. Sometimes, even deities have their reasoning... if it's not the deities, then who?"

“We have plenty of devils lying in the shadows.”

"If you're referring to that snake, I highly doubt he's an enemy."

“No. No I’m not.” Malik held his child close. He had his suspicions, but he dared not speak any names.

"Keeping me in the dark is not going to make me feel any better, Malik." Asakonigei stated and then gave him a look. "You've done that before and you know I don't like it. If you have a gut feeling, you best share it now. This enemy could be influencing the Tri-Force for all we know."

“I won’t say names... but it could be what the snake refers to as a Destroyer... or the being that nearly killed us before any of our children were born Asakonigei.”

"Destroyer... why does that sound so familiar?" Asakonigei thought long and hard. "There was a tell that my grandfather used to say. Aguguq the Maker and Malsumis the Destroyer. Together, they served... the Mother Goddess; Amotkena."

"Lorleidians have always believed in several deities. The Seven Siblings. The Goddess of Death and God of Life. The Golden Goddesses. Yet, we never spoke much of the Mother Goddess and the Two Brothers." Asakonigei almost gave a shudder. "Usually because... where Mother Goddess is concerned, I remember my grandfather said there was always discord which hid in her shadow."

“As long as you all stay by my side, I promise death won’t reach you before your time.”

"I know, Malik, I trust you, I'm simply just... a little concerned for the future." Asakonigei carefully brushed Takunova's cheek. "More now than ever. Even I can sense there is something amiss in the world. Our magic, Lorleidian magic... is aware."

“Just have faith in the right people.” He looked to his family, smiling. “Can you stand Asa?”

"My legs are still a little wobbly." Asakonigei admitted to her husband. "I feel fine, just... tired, if that makes sense. It's an odd feeling for me. Before, I was exhausted for weeks." She slowly swung her legs to the side and tested her strength. Her knees were shaky but she said, "I'll try. I might need some help."

“Donoma, can you hold your mother up?”

"Of course." Donoma allowed her mother to lean on her, supporting her weight.

"Don't hurt yourself, I know I'm heavy."

"Psh, no heavier than my brother.”

“Tell me Donoma, are you excited to be an older sibling?”, Malik asked his daughter.

"Yes, he's a cute little brother." Donoma nodded her head. "I uh... don't really know what to think of the age gap though."

“Be a guide. Someone he can feel that understands him.”

"That I can do."

“Good. I wish your older brother could be here, but his place is at Luimaya’s side.”

"Oh, he'll come visit. I'm sure. Mom will give him hell if he doesn't."

"That's for sure."

That wasn’t what Malik meant. But for now, he felt no reason to burden them with the strife of the Castle. It didn’t take long when he saw Gali and asked her to gather the townsfolk that his request was addressed. Taking his family to a balcony overlooking the centre of town, he lifted a hand to the sun. “Gerudo! I know that there is concern about the well being of Covarog of Hyrule. I wish to confirm that he still breaths! And while he breaths, we cannot fall into despair. As your new King, I wish to inspire nothing but hope to you. The first steps towards that is building the future. On that not, I wish to introduce you to my newborn son. Takunova!!!”

The people cheered, and despite the horror of Covarog’s heart attack on his mind, Malik felt his soul at ease. Today would be a day of celebration, not strife. And as King of the Gerudo, he would lead them all into a brighter future. Even if that meant burning out darker days.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/622772431507062784/the-rising-sun-ch-6-like-father-like-son

Crossover with the wonderful @ridersoftheapocalypse. Great story to tell. 

[storytimefromthecreed]

How It Should Have Happened

(3)

If anyone but Altair had told her this, she would not have listened. As it were, the golden eyes on the Mentor bore down on her, but it was his tone that she respected. Altair spoke to her gently, but firmly. Knowing he was telling her that he was doing this for her and because of her. It’s true, she thought as they’d left. An emotional reunion in a prison would take time they didn’t have, and they needed to save Malik.

Remaining behind with Maria wasn’t terrible, but neither one broke the silence. Both awaiting their partners’ return. An hour passed, then another. Maria was close to sending (Y/N) when the door opened and the trio rushed in. The house was cramped.

Dirty and covered in rags, Malik was laid on the bed. Having spent the time gathering water and collecting medicine, Maria tended to him as Altair recounted the mission in angry tones. Pushed back to the far side of the room, (Y/N) stood watching. Malik’s head lolled to one side and then the other, weakly. Their reunion would have wait.

Softly taking her hand, Darim gave her a reassuring squeeze accompanied with a look before returning his attention to the task at hand. Maria motioned over for (Y/N) and began instructing her. “Change his bandages when the blood starts to show, there’s water there, wash like this...” She’d watched Maria tend to patients dozens of times, but knew better than to interrupt her.

“We’ve rallied our men and are going to speak to Abbas and his counsel.” Altair spoke, and she realized he was speaking directly to her. She nodded, and worked her hands the way Maria wanted. “Stay with Malik until he’s awake, then I ask you stay in the shadows until we require your assistance.”

“Surely my being alive will tell the Assassins all they need of Abbas’s lies?” But Altair was already shaking his head.

“Abbas’s lies have reached the very heart of the Brotherhood. With the men we have, we are hopeful we will turn the tide long enough for talks.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then we talk again until they understand.” Altair concluded. “We will not spill the blood of our brothers. Along with bringing Sef back and showing that he and his are alive, we will compare that to Malik’s tale, and finally, to yours.” Altair explained. It sounded like a lot of talking.

“Just tell me the part I am to play.” (Y/N) said, and, for the briefest moment, she thought Altair smiled at her.

“We’ll return by nightfall. Then, this will all be behind us.”

Keeping her ears open for the slightest sound of fight, she tended to Malik until he woke. Gasping, it took a moment for his eyes to focus, and when they did, a large smile stretched across his face. “I knew you’d come back.”

“Malik!” She threw her arms around him, and he groaned. “I’m so sorry!” She recoiled, but he was laughing and sat up. He was weak, but the color was returning to his face. His hair was to his shoulders and oily, and his beard was unkempt. The bones of his shoulders were beginning to protrude as were the ones on his collar. “You should eat.” Nodding, she offered him a bit of soup and bread, then some water. “How are you feeling?”

“Better knowing you have returned.” Malik drank the soup and rested with his head against the wall.

“Yes, I’m excited to see what Altair has done.”

“I’m excited to see what you do.” Malik said, and laughed at her face. “Are you serious? Have you really not understood the part you’ve played?” Malik straightened himself, and wavered her away when she hovered. “I might be old, but I’m dead.” He laughed, and she frowned.

“That’s not funny.”

“What’s funny is an Assassin like you not giving yourself credit.” He chuckled, biting into his bread. “Who else can say they ran out of Masyaf and returned a hero?”

“Altair- oh.” She felt her face growing hot. Had that really happened? Recounting the last months, had her story mirrored that of the Assassin she looked up to? What did that say about her? Seeing that she was understanding, Malik nodded. “But I didn’t do much, Malik. I’m not even in the fight.”

“Heroes don’t need violence or blood to tally their wins. Even moving the wheels of the truth is a ballard.” Malik’s head lolled to the side, and she went to the other side of the room to grab a pillow.

“I wish I could help more, Malik. I wish-” A shadow ran across the window. Without training, she’d believe it were a bird or passing cloud. Placing a finger to her lips, she backed into the corner of the room and engaged her hidden blade. Malik lay on the bed, and pretended to be asleep.

A second passed. A minute. A few. Controlling her breathing, she kept her body limber. Couldn’t have her cramping from being too tense.

Slowly the door opened, and a man tiptoed over to the bed. Producing a dagger from his side, he brought it up. “I’ve a gift from Abbas to Altair, and you’re going to help me deliver it.”

Unleashing the spring of her pent of energy, anger, and frustrations, she tackled into the man. His dagger fell and there was the snick of the hidden blade, but it was too late. Pinned against the wall, the man’s eyes went from her’s to Malik’s. “Can I help?” She asked, and his hand twitched. “Look me in my eyes. Do you think I don’t want a fight? And you do think you would stand a chance if that happened?”

The man gulped.

The hillside was filled with Assassin and villager alike. Abbas roared to the crowd, “Hear how he lies! After killing our Mentor and keeping the Piece of Eden for himself, Altair would have Masyaf for his whims!”

“Enough, Abbas!” Altair called back. “Look at the damage that has fallen on our reputation! To the decay of our way of life! Let’s end this, so that we may build a better tomorrow.”

“Better for whom, I wonder?”

“Abbas! We have witnesses!” Altair called, playing his hand. “How can punishment be dealt if no crime is committed?”

“So it was you who broke into our prison and released the prisoner?”

“A man put there without a crime!”

(Y/N) was growing restless, but trusted her instructions. That was how they’d gotten so far. There was a lot of yelling between Altair and Abbas before Altair finally addressed the crowd and revealed that Sef was alive. At this, Abbas didn’t move.

Returning to the crowd, Altair spoke, “As my son is alive, how can Malik be held for his murder?” Murmurs ran along the villager side and Assassin side. “Along with another victim thought to be dead. (Y/N) is alive as well! And she walks among us.” Had Abbas grown pale?

“You- you’re lying-”

“Why? Because your men had told you they’d killed her? Had presented you a body?”

“Where is she?”

“Worry about that during trials, Abbas. You will be held accoutable for your crimes against your fellow Assassins, and to the Brotherhood.” Sensing the shift in power, the men siding with Abbas dropped to their knees, their weapons landing to the ground. Altair’s Assassin’s gathered them.

“What are you doing? What are you doing?” Abbas yelled, and a group of Assassins surrounded him. “You’ve always been a liar, Altair! You can’t fool me!”

“Take him to the dungeon.” Altair said, and Abbas was taken away. A sense of relief filled the hillside, and there was small cheering. Staying to the shadows, (Y/N) darted her way through people until she reached him.

“A man tried to assassinate Malik. Convinced him that he should show me Abbas’s papertrail instead.”

"Excuse me?” Altair flipped through the papers, and it was all there. In his own hand, Abbas had sealed his fate. “I look forward to hearing your stories. Thank you.” They smiled at one another, and then she melted into the crowd once more.

It took a few months, but Masyaf was finally beginning to look and feel like it’s former self. Maybe even better. Abbas had been killed for the lives he’d taken during his coup, Sef and his family returned to Masyaf, and there were talks of a early spring.

Darim and (Y/N) were still seeing one another, much to Altair and Malik’s happiness. They could see the old men watching from the tower as Darim would walk her through the garden or when they’d sneak into the library and she’d have him reach the books on the highest shelves for her. They seemed to be waiting. For what? She couldn’t imagine.

It only got worse when she began to notice Maria and Sef doing it too.

“Malik has a son.” She said, trying to ignore the eyes of Masyaf on her, but it was hard. Surely, they weren’t staring, were they? Darim tightened his hold on her hand as they strolled.

“Does he now?” Darim nodded, but his eyes were far away. It was official. Everyone was acting weird. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

Taking both her hands, Darim placed them at his mouth when he spoke. He never feared public displays of affection, enjoyed it, in fact. Though they kept the kissing and carressing in private, they were always holding hands and he was always kissing her elsewhere. Her hands and forehead mainly.

“Can you meet me in the training yard? Sundown?”

They hadn’t properly trained since they’d gotten together, and she was confused as to why he wanted to train so late. “Sure, what should I bring?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll bring the supplies.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, then a strange look that he quickly concealed. Kissing her hands once more, he took off.

He hadn’t gotten far before Malik appeared, flanked by his father and his mother. Darim groaned. It was hard enough thinking of a way to do it, must he have an audience? “Is my daughter not good enough? Is that staying your hand?” Malik’s lips twitched, and if he had both arms, Darim could image him crossing them.

“Just go up to her and ask.” Altair stated.

“Making it meaningful is important to him, Altair.” Maria told him before returning to her son. “Just do something that’s special between the two of you.” Darim thanked them for their advice and strode the complete opposite way until he ran into Sef.

“Not you too.” Darim felt he could ram his head into a wall. When he’d told them he was planning this, he’d hoped for support, ideas, maybe even a pep talk. Just not so many!

Sef smirked, enjoying his older brother’s torment. “How do you think it was when I did it?”

At sundown, the training yard was empty. As it be expected, the Assassins were probably eating or getting ready for bed. But the air was different. It wasn’t that the training ground was empty, it was that it was abandoned.

Targets lined up along the wall, but there was no weapons. The skies were turning from delicate pinks to soft velvet to starry before her eyes. It was her favorite time of the day. On a nearby bench lay a flower, and (Y/N) went to join it. No sooner had she placed it at her nose, a whizzing sound filled the courtyard. Then the smack as the arrow found it’s target.

She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to see who could make such an unbelieveable shot, but she did anyway. Darim leaned casually against his bow, all smiles. Raising a brow, she giggled, blew him a kiss, and returned her attention to the arrow. Then her jaw dropped.

Clasping her hands together, she spun around, checking to see if he was laughing because surely this was a joke!

“What do you say?” His voice echoed throughout Masyaf.

“Yes!” Darim abandoned his bow and leapt over the side of the castle. Rolling out of the haystack, he ran to her and swept her in his arms. “Yes!” She said, this time between them.

The tail was goose feather, and on the shaft of the arrow was a gold ring.

[something-tofightfor]

Tonight: Part 5

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader (first person POV)

Word Count: 10,025 (I would apologize, but I am not at all sorry about a single word of this)

Rating: R/NSFW. This is it, guys. This is as steamy as it gets. A literal forest of lemons. 

Trigger Warnings: Restraint, mention of drug use and casual sex

Summary: This is your moment - taking Logan Delos to bed completely and totally sober. It’s a big one. 

Author’s Note: There’s one more part coming, but I’ve literally been working on this since April. I hope it lives up to the hype I’ve created for it. This is about 8500 words of pure smut and maybe 1500 words of plot, so if you’re not into that kind of thing... don’t read it, please. 

Tag list: @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @disengagefrmreality @suchatinyinfinity @elanor-of-imladris @lexxierave @ms-delos @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @drinix @gollyderek @ymariejp @traeumerinwitzhelden @obscurilicious @thesumofmychoices @breanime @madamrogersstorytelling @songtoyou @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper@ilkaeliseb@delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @mr-robot-x @rageshots @shinebrightlikeafanbase @littlemermaidprobz @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @luminex3 @malik-payne @lynne1993 @bucky-is-my-precious  @mfackenthal@weallhaveadestiny @ladyblablabla @sweetybuzz25 @dreamwritesimagines  @audreychaz @tc-elliot @dreams-with-thoughts @kind-wolf @honeyydippaa @thesandbeneathmytoes @geeksareunique

Logan finally met my eyes, a smirk on his lips and it caused me to stop breathing for a second in surprise. He stood and stepped toward me and I stood in place, his fingers closing around my outstretched hand with surprising strength. “You wanna find those cuffs?” I nodded once and Logan’s eyes flashed in the sunlight, the smirk changing into a smile - and if I interpreted it correctly, there was some relief behind it. “Alright then.” He was standing directly in front of me, very little space between us and without warning, Logan leaned down, pressing his lips against mine in a gesture that felt filled with gratitude and maybe even a little hope. Don’t thank me yet, Logan. I inhaled deeply, eyes closing as I felt his lips part, moving mine with them. He still wasn’t touching me anywhere but my hand, but I could tell he was fighting it and so I pulled my hand away from his, moving both of them, my fingers closing around the material of his shirt as I tugged him forward.

 It was all he needed for encouragement, a chuckle from the back of his throat sending a vibration through my body as his hands moved across my bare back. His touch was gentle and exploratory, fingertips tracing over my spine and upward, hands moving in separate directions to follow my shoulder blades before his palms settled on my shoulders, thumbs digging in gently as they moved in small circles. He broke the kiss, pulling back and licking his lips, dark eyes locked on my face. “You ready, Logan?” He didn’t respond, just stared into my eyes for the span of a few breaths before squeezing with both hands and then abruptly crouching down, releasing my shoulders and moving his hands to my legs. “Logan!”

 His hands gripped the backs of my thighs easily, urging me to let him lift me, and without pause, I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt my feet leave the floor. “Wrap ‘em around me,” he breathed out, forehead pressed against the skin of my neck, breath hitting my chest as he spoke. “Hold on tight.” I did as he told me, feeling him straighten up and reposition his hands beneath me, getting a better grip even as I crossed my legs at the ankle behind his back. It was my turn to look down at him as we stood in his kitchen, my breathing shallow and his deep. This is what you’ve always done to me, Logan. But in a different way. He tilted his head back, looking up at me and I leaned down, lips finding his easily as our bodies pressed together. There was no biting, no urgency, no sense of apology in the kiss - it was Logan accepting the affection that I offered and giving it back to me without hesitation. This is what you deserve, Logan Delos. This and more.

 He took a few more steps away from the table without ending the kiss, but when he pulled back, he changed his grip again and I felt myself slide down his torso a few inches, my arms tightening around his neck. I could feel the material of his shirt against my chest, feel the way his muscles moved beneath it as he walked. I tightened my legs around his waist as I felt him do the same with the fingers on my thighs, his grip hard enough to keep me grounded but not tight enough to truly hurt. We made it to the hallway before Logan stopped walking, turning so that he could push my back against the wall to support some of my weight as he leaned against me. “Logan, what…”

 Gentle Logan was gone and had been replaced in an instant with the man I was used to as he used his body to hold me against the wall. “I’m gonna fuck you against this wall someday,” he said, the words low and full of promise. “I’m gonna hold you just like this and I’m gonna make it feel so goddamn good that you can’t remember who you are.” The back of my head hit the wall as I looked upward, my mouth dropping open as he spoke. “You’re not gonna know what hit you, but you’re sure as hell gonna know who fucked you.” His mouth returned to my skin after every few words, teeth and tongue and lips distracting me even as I unlocked my arms from his neck to bring my fingers to his hair. I don’t want him to stop. He let me pull on his hair for a few seconds, teeth bared against the thin skin at the center of my throat but then straightened up, eyes on mine. “But that’s not today.” I wish it was. I shook my head, watching as the expression on his face changed to one of resolve. “We gotta get there first.”

 “We do, Logan.” My voice didn’t sound like my own, and I shook my head back and forth. “We will.” He nodded once. “You will.” Leaning in, he kissed me again and as he did, I felt my back leave the wall, Logan’s long strides down the hallway leading us closer and closer to his bedroom. My heart was pounding - and it was only partially because of the way he was kissing me and the grip he had on my thighs. I was nervous, but it wasn’t because of Logan, not entirely. I don’t want to disappoint him. The realization stunned me even as Logan reached the edge of the bed with me, sliding his hands toward my knees to help me balance as I dropped my feet to the floor, unwilling to separate completely from him. He’s never… I’ve never… we don’t know what this is going to feel like when we’re both… I moaned his name as he finally removed his mouth from mine, tongue coming out to lick his lips even before he’d pulled fully away, and he laughed quietly at the sound of it, leaning back in to whisper into my ear.

 “You sound like you need me, hmm?” I shook my head immediately, my legs shaking slightly at his tone of voice, which was both amused and expectant at the same time. Nope.  

 “No, Logan.” I swallowed, moving my hands down and pushing him away from me gently, knowing that the longer I stood next to the bed with him, the more likely it was that we ended up back in it without the cuffs. “No, I want you. There’s a difference. Go find those cuffs. Now.” He inhaled and stepped away without saying a word, turning toward the walk in closet. I watched him move - gracefully swinging his arms at his sides, shirt pulled tight over his broad shoulders, long legs filling out sweatpants in a way that I wouldn’t have ever been able to imagine even in my most vivid fantasies - and when he reached the closet he turned back to look at me, his signature smirk on his lips. Shit.

 With a wink, he disappeared into the doorway after flipping the light on and pulling his shirt off, dropping it wordlessly to the floor and leaving me alone in the room with my racing heart. Got him here. He’s getting the cuffs. That’s good. Now… The next thing I’d have to bring up to him was the thing I was most concerned about - and one that normally wouldn’t even have been an issue. All he can do is say no, and he probably will. A few steps took me around the foot of the bed and to the side I’d slept on the night before, and I lowered myself onto the mattress, covering myself with my arms and keeping my eyes on the closet. I could hear Logan rummaging around, quietly swearing to himself and smiled - despite my apprehension - at the noises he was making. Impatient much, Logan Delos? “A-ha!” I heard his exclamation and only a few seconds later, Logan reappeared in the doorway, two gleaming silver pairs of cuffs held in his right hand, the left one - holding the keys - going into his pocket. “Got ‘em.”

 “Bring those here, Logan.” I stood again, holding my hand out. “One pair on the bed, give me the other.” Do this before you lose your nerve. His steps quick, Logan crossed the room in only a few seconds, handing me one set of cuffs. I didn’t wait, and with a satisfying click, I’d closed one end around his left wrist before he could even drop the other set onto the bed. “That ok?” He hissed through his teeth, looking down at where the metal was hanging from his wrist loosely. “Don’t wanna hurt you, but…” He leaned forward, lips next to my ear and spoke.

 “Attach it to the bed, and we’ll see.” He took my earlobe between his teeth and bit down before stepping away and sitting down on the bed. “Well?” He reached over, abdominal muscles taut above the waistband of his sweats to lace his fingers through the lattice on his headboard just above where the pillows were, near the center of the bed. Leaning over his body, I quickly attached the other end of the cuff to the bed, making sure that it was securely fastened. At the first sound of clicking, Logan’s free hand went to my hip, fingers digging in as I angled my body over his, securing him in place. One down. Using one hand, I pulled my hair back from my face and over to one side, watching as he flexed his wrist, the metal clanking against the wood. I looked over my left shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow in question. “Tighter.” He said the single word with a flare of his nostrils and a curl of his lip, his eyes wide open and as dark as I’d seen them. “I wanna feel it when I’m pulling against ‘em.”

 “Yes, sir.” The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them, and as my hand moved from the wooden slats to the metal encircling his wrist, pushing it a few clicks tighter, Logan curled his other arm around my waist, rolling onto the bed with me. My feet left the floor and I gasped out loud, but we ended on our sides, Logan’s cuffed arm beneath my head, the fingers of his free hand flat against my back.

 “Sir?” I nodded and Logan closed his eyes, swallowing. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?” No, Logan. You’re going to ruin me. You already have. “You better get this other arm done before I -” Swiftly moving, I eased out of his grip and into a kneeling position, reaching behind me with one hand to grab the second set of cuffs and attach them to his right wrist. Pulling his arm upward, I eyed the headboard so that his arms were even, preparing to lock the second cuff in place. “Wait!” He sounded panicked, eyes going wide and I looked down at him from my position above him, watching as he shook his head back and forth. “Just wait a second, please.” I let go of his hand immediately, breathing deeply. “Just… let me…” His hand - cuff dangling from his wrist - went to my face, his fingertips finding the skin beneath my eyes and on the bridge of my nose before moving down to my lips.

 His eyes followed the movement of his hand, but the rest of his body was completely still, and I stayed still too, letting him go at his own pace. He doesn’t want to be restrained. The hand moved down, touch light against my neck, and I caught a wince as his fingers moved over the bruising, but I shook my head once, still staring down at him. It’s fine, Logan. Don’t. Barely nodding in response, he kept going, tips of his fingers meeting in the center of my chest before he flattened his hand again, his large palm moving over one breast and then the other, squeezing each for a moment before continuing lower. I gasped as he flipped his hand over, brushing against my abdomen with his knuckles, his eyes still tracking the movement of his hand and mine following his, breath coming out in quick pants instead of deep, even exhalations. He’s barely touching me, I’m done. “Logan.” His name a whisper from my lips, I glanced at his face, tearing my gaze from his hand and watching as he bit down on his bottom lip, his breathing becoming as erratic as mine.

 “Lift up. Higher.” I did as he asked, rising higher on my knees and putting my hands onto his shoulders for balance, and Logan’s fingertips slipped beneath the elastic at my waist, his hand twisting back around so that his palm was flat against my skin as it moved lower. “Fuck,” he breathed, my name falling from his lips quietly as his fingers reached their goal. “Fuck you’re…” His  fingers curled against me, and my hips moved toward him without warning, the pace he set steady and slow. Fuck, Logan. Far too soon, he pulled his hand back, eyes trained on his fingers, my grip on him tightening. I watched his hand as he brought it up to his face, gaze moving up to meet mine. The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know - that Logan Delos, even when not fully in control was still in control, though he had his moments where he let that control slip. His lips parted slightly, and though he kept his eyes on me, his fingers passing through them and into his mouth easily. He groaned, eyes rolling backward before they closed, lips pursed around his fingers as he sucked on them to taste me. I finally closed my eyes too, nails digging into Logan’s arms and only opened them again when he spoke my name. “Alright. Lock it up.”

 He looked pleased with himself, finally content to let me finish restraining him and I nodded, leaning down and reaching over for the free end of the cuff, clicking it into place as I kissed Logan’s palm, still using one hand against his shoulder for balance. “Alright, Delos.” I sat back up, hands pressed against the lower part of his abdomen. “One more thing.” His eyes widened, watching me move above him, scooting backwards so that I was resting on his thighs. “Logan…” Now that I had the opportunity to say what I was thinking to him, I was anxious about it. He can only say no. “Logan I know that…”

 “Hey.” His voice was at its normal level, and I paused, watching as he shook his head back and forth slowly. “Say it. Whatever it is.” Yeah. “I’m kinda at your mercy right now, so…” I laughed, my hands flexing gently against his skin. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at him, eyes on Logan’s. All or nothing.

 “We’ve always used protection before, right?” He nodded. “And… you’re a Delos, you have to be careful with what you do, and how you do it, so you’ve always done that out here.” He nodded, a slight frown on his face. “But in… there, in Westworld, you don’t need to…” I trailed off. You’re ruining this. Just say it. “You don’t fuck the hosts with condoms, Logan. And I’m… I want to... “ The frown disappeared as his jaw dropped, eyes flying wide open. Logan moved his arms, giving himself as much purchase on the mattress as possible and lifted the upper half of his body, muscles growing hard beneath my palms as he leaned toward me.

 “You sayin’ you wanna do this without... “ I nodded. “Fuck.” He licked his lips and bit down on the lower one. “How? How’s that gonna work, they can’t get knocked up, but you can. You don’t want that.” No, Logan. I don’t. “I haven’t done that in as long as I can remember, I can’t…”

 “You can, Logan. With me.” I leaned down toward him, wanting him to see and hear that I wasn’t lying to him. “I’ve got an implant. I have for years. I never mentioned it before because it didn’t matter. We were… casual, and no matter how out of it we were, we always just went for your drawer or mine, and it was fine. And before you, I never would have even wanted... I get it. You have to protect yourself and your name.” He relaxed onto the bed, still staring up at me, but the expression on his face had softened. “But this is more personal than just a drunken fuck or a hookup, Logan. This is real. I trust you, Logan. I care about you. And I want you to know that you don’t have to protect yourself from me, or feel like I’m... not after what you told me yesterday. I want to help you.” He took a deep breath, and I reached up, pushing the hair away from his face, my fingers lingering on his browbone. “Say no. Tell me to reach into that drawer and I will. But I’m just giving you the option, Logan, because...”

 “But you know how many… what I do.” I nodded. “Why?” He closed his eyes. “Why are you being so good to me after what I did? Why would you want this with me?”

 “Because you need it, Logan. Because you deserve it and more. Because you need to learn that this doesn’t have to be just a release for you, a way to turn your mind off and forget.” I looked up at the ceiling for a second and took a breath before looking back at him. “I want this to feel different for you, and if this is the only shot I get at showing you what it’s like -”

 “You’re not lying to me?” I shook my head, and Logan stared at me, watching my face, my response. “Nothin’ scares me more than accidentally getting someone pregnant.” I laughed quietly, still looking into his eyes.

 “Nothing scares me more than finding out I’m gonna have a kid would, Logan. I want more out of my life than that, it’s not even an option for me right now.” The corners of his lips quirked upward, and he jerked his head to the side.

 “Lean down, against me for a second.” I did, scooting my hips slightly backward and sliding my hands up to his shoulders so that I could press my upper body against his. As I settled onto him, the top of my head against his shoulder, he shifted his body beneath me, lifting his hips slightly. “I’m clean.” His words were quiet, and I could feel his chin moving against my hair as he spoke. “I get tested every month or so, just in case. It’s not just the sex, it’s the drugs, too… the needles. The last time I used, earlier this week? It was my own stash, so it’s…” He cleared his throat. “But I’m good. You’re safe, not gonna catch…” Fuck. Though I hadn’t wanted to think of that, it was in the back of my mind - but I also knew that if he wasn’t safe, he wouldn’t have even initiated anything the night before. He wouldn’t risk me, wouldn’t risk anyone. Logan was a lot of things, but he wouldn’t ever make someone else pay for his poor life choices - and I knew that for a fact. But wait…

 “Logan.” I spoke against his shoulder, lips turned downward to press once against the skin before I lifted my head to look at him. “Does that mean…” He nodded, and though there was some fear in his eyes, it was masked with something else that I couldn’t read in the moment. “Say it, please. I want to be -”

 “I want it to be… I want you to…” He pressed his own lips together, craning his neck forward so that he could brush his mouth against mine briefly before letting out a hiss of air from between his teeth. “I want to feel you come all over me with nothing between us.” Oh holy fuck. In the moments between the halted speech and kissing me, Logan’s mood shifted again, and the need in his voice - low and thick and almost a purr - made me feel weak. “That alright with you?” He whispered my name, and I groaned, nodding my head. “That’s what I thought.” He shifted his hips again, drawing my attention back to his waist. “There anything else you wanna discuss, or can we get down to the fun part of all this?” You little shit. Sitting back, I tilted my head to the side and reached behind me with one hand, fingers finding him through the material of his sweats, outline firm beneath my fingers.

 “You do want this, don’t you, Logan?” Closing my fingers as I moved my hand, I watched his eyes narrow, tongue poking out between his lips as he nodded. “Good.” After a few strokes with my hand, I removed it, watching as his eyes opened all the way. “Let me take care of you.” His chest moving up and down as he breathed, Logan watched me slide off of his body, turning my back to him and kneeling next to him on the bed, my bent knees even with his waist. I pulled my hair away from my face, securing it with an elastic band and being sure to arch my back slightly, head turned toward him. Nodding appreciatively, Logan winked at me and then without me asking, he lifted his hips for me to pull his pants down but I shook my head. “Nope.” Not yet.

 Logan settled back onto the bed and without pause, I slid my hand beneath the waistband of his pants, nails scratching gently through the coarse hair on his lower stomach before wrapping entirely around him. He swore - loudly - my name leaving his lips as I grinned, leaning down to plant a kiss on his skin, just above his exposed right hip bone. “What are you… Shit.” His hips bucked as I stroked his length, my free hand resting on his chest, eyes focused on the shape of him. He felt good in my hand - firm and hot, skin velvety soft against mine. It wasn’t the first time I’d had my hands on Logan, but it was the first time I’d been so bold about it - and I was about to get bolder.

 My right hand going from his chest to his hip, I leaned down, mouth hovering over where my hand was moving beneath the thin material of his pants. Don’t think about this. Just do it. He wants you. Lips parting, I stuck my tongue out, making contact with the tip of him through the soft material of his sweats before licking downward toward where my hand was, knowing that the combination of my tongue’s movement and the feel of the fabric against his skin was going to get to him. He inhaled again, crying out as I added more pressure, working my way back up and closing my lips around his head through the pants, sucking gently before exhaling, letting my breath warm him for long seconds. “Logan.” I removed my mouth, whispering his name and he responded with a jingle of the cuffs against the wood as he moved his hands, changing his grip on the headboard.

 “Keep your mouth there, God.” He was panting, and one glance upward told me that he was enjoying himself, as he had his head flat against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “Jesus, where’d that come from? Keep doing that, that feels -” But I cut his words off, the hand at his hip pulling the waistband of his sweats down just enough to expose his tip, the hand around him settling lower and squeezing. He cried out again, my name leaving his mouth as I took a breath and sealed my lips over him, finally tasting his skin and swirling my tongue around his head. I couldn’t help the noise I made in the back of my throat, and it didn’t take long for me to pull his pants down further, exposing his entire length to the late morning sun. His hips were off the bed, which made it easier, and when they were bunched around his thighs, I moved again, giving myself a better angle and taking more of him into my mouth. “Fuck, I wanna pull on that hair.” He was breathing hard, words coming out with a bite to them, syllables accentuated with metallic clanking as he tested the restraints. “That feels fuckin’ great.” Yeah, it does. Though immersed in what I was doing - in the sounds he was making, the way he felt and tasted in my mouth, the way my left hand had moved down between his legs, fingers cupping his sack and had been replaced on his length with my right - I missed him touching me. I missed Logan’s big hands on my back, missed the way he’d grab my hips to hold me in place, missed the way that it felt when he pulled on my hair, or gripped my shoulders, mouth next to my ear or on my face and body. This has to work. I can’t have him like this once and have it be enough. It’s not enough. “You gotta… fuck, you gotta stop.”

 Logan’s voice cut through my thoughts, pain and pleasure in each word. Oh. After a few more seconds, I released him from my lips with an audible “pop”, squeezing him one more time before sitting up and clearing my throat, licking my lips. Yeah, I needed to stop. I gave him a few moments to collect himself, the skin of his upper body flushed and his eyes wide and bright but entirely focused on me before I completely removed my hands from his body, causing him to raise his eyebrows and whine, my name the only thing he said. Easing out of the bed and onto my feet, I walked to the end of the bed, looking at his lean body, stretched almost the entire length of the mattress. No need to draw this out. I reached forward, leaning over and gripping the material of his pants before I pulled them all the way down his legs, baring him completely to me.

 I’d seen him naked before, sure, and he’d seen me, but this was different. It had always been dark, our bodies illuminated by the lights in the rooms - or not at all, as we tore each other’s clothing off in the night, and this was something I wanted to remember. “You going to look at me all day, or are you gonna take the rest of your clothes off so I have something to stare at too?” He’d caught his breath, words coming out even but I heard how much he meant them, heard exactly what he wanted with each one he said. I like this Logan. I stepped to the side of the bed, watching as he turned his face to me, cheek against the pillow and a smile on his lips. “You’re a tease.” He shook his wrists, flexing his fingers, which were gripping the wooden headboard’s slats loosely. “But the best tease there is, I think. And I’ve been teased a lot.”

 “I don’t know, Logan. You seem like you’re enjoying this too much to consider it a tease.” Hooking my fingers into the elastic of my pants, I took a breath and pushed them down, the too-big garment falling to the floor easily before I stepped out of them, one knee raising to the edge of the mattress. His eyes followed my movement, his lips parting, and I brought the other leg up too, kneeling on the bed next to him as he rolled as far onto his side as he could, bouncing against the mattress and in turn, causing me to bounce, too. “What are you doing, Delos?” He groaned, looking me up and down, and I reached over, touching the side of his face.

 “Gettin’ comfortable.” With a laugh, I leaned down, kissing him hard, knowing that he could likely still taste himself on my lips and tongue - and also knowing that it turned him on even more. I heard a creaking noise after a few minutes, breaking the kiss to look up at Logan’s headboard, which he was gripping with such intensity that his knuckles were white, the wood groaning between his fingers.

 “That gonna make it, Logan? We haven’t even done anything yet.” He was smirking - the expression one that I knew well, and Logan shrugged his shoulders, nose wrinkling.

 “Donno. Guess we’ll see.” He leaned forward, lips finding the skin of my chest, and I sighed as I felt contact, leaning into him. Reaching up with my right hand, I grabbed for the headboard, closing my fingers around a different set of slats than Logan, the other hand finding his head, fingers tangling in his hair as he licked his way across my skin. Looking down, I watched his tongue moving, watched his lips pressing against me before they wrapped around a nipple and I felt the bite of his teeth. His name came out in a moan, and he groaned, the cuffs clanking against the wood as he shifted his hand, pulling, as if he was trying to get his hand to me. I tugged on his hair, guiding his mouth and he followed my lead willingly, his beard scratching the overly sensitive skin that his mouth had been on mere moments before.

 Head thrown back, I sighed, his name leaving my lips again, this time in satisfaction. Immersed in the sensation of his mouth on me, I felt him bite down on my other nipple as my fingertips found the curl of hair behind his ear, stroking it. See? This isn’t so bad, Logan. He hummed against my skin, and I made my next move - feeling myself get more and more worked up with every swipe of his tongue. Pulling my hand away from his head, I reached over, my left hand finding Logan’s right, fingers closing around each other’s with the wood between our palms. Balance achieved, I lifted my knee from the bed and hooked it over his abdomen, shifting my body to settle against his waist, feeling the warmth of his sides on my inner thighs. Oh, Logan.

 As he rolled onto his back and his mouth was forced away from my chest by my new position, Logan exhaled loudly, even as I brought my right hand to his left, repeating the grip so that when I leaned forward to kiss him, I had leverage, which was increased as I moved slightly backwards, closer to his hips. Though it started out slow, the kiss grew in intensity, Logan growling against my mouth and squeezing my fingers tightly, the edges of the wood biting into my palm. I pulled away, teeth catching on his lower lip and Logan shook his head from side to side, letting the back of his head fall against the pillow as I removed my hands from his, sitting straight up again.

 “Hey.” His voice was filled with longing, the hair falling over his brow. “Hey, come on.” He leaned forward as much as he could, eyes wide, his tongue flicking out over his lips. “Just let me have one hand free, lemme touch you.” I smirked at him, keeping just out of reach and placing my palms flat against his chest, fingers curled slightly so that my nails dug in. “It’s…” He groaned as I rolled my hips against him, knees squeezing on either side of his body. I could feel him against the back of one thigh, knew how close we were, and took a deep breath. Don’t give in.

 “Logan.” I shook my head before cocking it to the side, my mouth opening slightly as he raised his hips, reminding me of what was to come, trying to entice me further. Focus. “Logan, you don’t get to make requests right now.” He laughed softly, lowering his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m in charge, remember?” He sucked in a breath and then brought his face back to level, eyes locking on mine.

 “Yes, ma’am,” he said without blinking. “You got me a little held up right now, so...” The metallic clanking of the handcuffs against the headboard as he turned his wrists again caught my attention, eyes moving away from Logan’s face as I watched his long fingers flex around the slats of wood while he gripped them. “What are you gonna do to me, darlin’?” He looked down at where our bodies were connected, one eyebrow raised. “Aside from getting me all wet, I mean.” Sticking my lower lip out and shrugging my shoulders, I rose up on my knees and moved backwards, watching as his eyes focused between us at my waist. “You know,” Logan said quietly, tongue wetting his lips. “You’re gonna be screaming my name before you’re done.” He paused, looking up at me, eyes full of fire. “You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again, even without my hands or mouth on that perfect body of yours.” You’re probably right, Logan. But first…

 I lowered myself down again, feeling him between my legs, slipping against my skin as I moved back and forth slowly. He yelped at the contact, a noise that was not at all like him, but recovered quickly, my name again leaving his mouth in a hiss. “I like winding you up, Logan. I’ve never been able to do this before.” Slowly moving my hips forward and back, I slid against his length, which was laying against his abdomen. Without breaking eye contact, I reached down, rubbing my thumb over his tip, carefully nicking it with the edge of my nail. He inhaled, a quiet “fuck” the only other noise he made and I glanced downward before meeting his eyes again. “Looks like I’m not the only one getting a little wet, Logan.”

 “My dick has never been this fucking hard before.” I wanted to laugh at his deadpan tone, at the matter of fact way he spoke, but I was almost positive that Logan was serious, and so I decided to take pity on him, - and myself, because I wanted him inside me - raising back up to my full height on my knees and looking down. “Fucking hell.” He swore again, and as I closed my fingers around the base of him, I took a breath.

 “Logan, are you sure?” One more chance, Logan. “I’m gonna -”

 “Fuck me like you own me.” He groaned, shaking his head. “Stop fucking teasing me and fuck me already.” Without another word, I positioned him beneath me, holding him gently but firmly, and lowered myself slowly down onto him. Though I wanted to give myself time to adjust to the feeling of him inside me, Logan had other plans and when I was only halfway down his length, he rocked his hips upward, burying himself in me. “Oh, holy fuck.” My eyes on his face, I watched as his head hit the pillows again, nostrils flaring and a noise that was a mixture of a surprised groan and a yelp carrying through the room as his upper lip curled, exposing his teeth. “Fuck me.” His hair fanning over the pillow, I closed my eyes and whimpered slightly as my body responded to him, stretching to the point just before pain, muscles contracting around him.

 The feeling of being on top of Logan Delos sober was one that I couldn’t describe. He was filling my body so completely that I couldn’t speak, the small movements of his hips adding to the sensation, and I was lost. What I wanted and what Logan wanted were typically two very different extremes with one linking thread - the need for a physical connection - but the moment I’d taken him to the hilt, I felt a shift, felt something change between us. It was about more for me than helping him to overcome his tendency to hurt people - and kill Hosts. It was about more than finally having him sober. It’s about… “Logan, I’m going to start -”

 “You feel so good squeezing my dick like that, fuck.” He’d recovered his ability to speak, and I opened my eyes to look at him, watching as he nodded, both hands on the front side of the headboard slats, fingers inside the ends of the cuffs that were attached to the bed, elbows bent and resting on the mattress. “You gonna fuck me or what?” I moved at his command, raising myself up, hands pressed flat on his abdomen for balance and then lowered myself slowly back down on him. He rotated his hips, and I felt him twitch inside of me slightly, my muscles still moving around him. So good. I felt his hands on my hips like ghosts, missing the pressure of his fingers as he guided me, helping us to find the right rhythm. Maybe someday.

 I watched him as I moved, careful to not let him slip out of me fully as I rocked my hips, and Logan’s eyes never left my face, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “Logan….” He was breathing hard, and so was I, making it almost impossible  for me to speak. “Logan I want -”

 “I know.” He said my name again, eyes widening, straining against the cuffs and raising his torso off of the bed, and I couldn’t help but change my angle, reaching forward with one hand to tug on his hair. “I fucking love that.” He grinned at me, snapping his teeth together, mouth inches from mine. “But it’s not fair that you get to touch me when I’m-” I cut him off with a kiss, tongue slipping into his open mouth and he groaned again, head angling forward as I pulled his face closer to mine, supporting his neck with my fingers. The kiss continued as he bucked his hips upward into me, the changed angle not allowing him to go as deep as before, but altering the way he felt inside me.

 The new position felt more intimate, and as I circled my hips, knees digging into the sheets below us, I kissed Logan again - but this time it was more gently, lips pressing against his instead of mashing, tongue moving purposefully with his instead of haphazardly. This is why we’re doing this, Logan. To remind you. Did I want to make it possible for him to be with others while sober? No. But his well being was worth more than my own feelings, my own desires - and if I was able to help him take a step back from the destructive habits he’d formed, I didn’t care what I had to do, or what I had to sacrifice. “Hey.” I’d pulled away from him, lips trailing over his cheek and toward his ear, teeth dragging on his skin. “Logan you said - oh!” I cried out as he bit down on my shoulder, taking any chance he could get to have his mouth on me. I hummed, biting on his earlobe and was rewarded with a second bite at the base of my neck, followed by the warmth of his tongue moving over the area, lips following. “You said you wanted to make me come all over you, right?” A nod. “Then what are you gonna do about it?”

 His head shot back, knocking into the headboard and he stared up at me, cheeks flushed. I dropped a hand to his shoulder, staring at him with hooded eyes. Even though I desperately wanted to let him free so that he could touch me, the teasing was well worth it - the way he felt moving beneath and inside me was almost intoxicating, the sounds he was making - and making me make in return - the most beautiful things I’d ever heard. He took a breath, clearing his throat, and when he spoke again, it was in a voice that I’d never heard before - deep, full of want, absolutely designed to get me worked up. “I’ll do anything you want me to do, just keep riding me.” I straightened up, finding that Logan had bent his knees, giving me something to lean back against as I arched my back, finding a new rhythm. “Good girl.”

 Logan kept up a steady stream of words as I continued to raise and lower my body, supplementing his uneven thrusts with the rolling of my hips, my teeth catching on my lower lip. It felt good - but there was a disconnect. Logan couldn’t anticipate my movements or rhythm in the ways that he typically could, and it was keeping him off balance. “How’s that feel, Logan?” I leaned forward, away from his legs and raised my arms, locking my fingers together behind my head, elbows pointed at the ceiling as I moved my hips. “You like - ” He groaned, closing his eyes and without pause, I leaned forward, grabbing his chin with my thumb and forefinger.  “Hey.” His eyes flew open, and I kissed him on the mouth, stilling the movement of my hips, Logan’s length sheathed by my body. “I’m done playing around, Logan.” He nodded. “You said you were gonna make me come, and I think it’s time that we make that happen, don’t you?” He nodded, an almost pained look on his face as I straightened up again, tightening my hold and feeling him thrust his hips upward as much as he could.

 I winked at him, taking a deep breath and rising slowly, allowing myself to pull completely off of Logan. “What are you dong!” He whined my name, and I heard clanking and the groaning of wood again, my eyes moving to the headboard, Logan’s fingers closed around the links between the ends of the cuffs on both hands. “I thought you-”

 “Logan.” It only took one word to stop him and I shook my head, planting one hand on his thigh and pushing before I turned my body so that my back was facing him, carefully crossing his body with my right leg and raising up as I glanced back over my shoulder at him. His eyes were wide, teeth bared in a snarl that I knew wasn’t because he was mad - it was because he couldn’t form words. His chest was heaving, and I reached down in front of me, fingers wrapping around his slick length again as I pulled him upward and back into position, a shudder going through my body as he made contact with my entrance. Do it. Without wasting any more time, I sunk down onto him, hands splayed against Logan’s thighs. He cried out my name as I did so, the muscles in his legs tensing beneath my touch, knees slightly bent.

 “Fuck.” He hissed the single word out, and I closed my eyes, imagining the way that he was watching the movement of my back, the flexing of my shoulders, the way he looked disappearing into my body over and over. “Take every fucking inch, that’s it. Take it all the way.” He moaned as I found a rhythm, meeting the tiny thrusts of his hips stroke for stroke. I hated not looking at him, hated not being able to see the way I knew his teeth were fixed onto his lower lip, the way his hair was drooping over one eye. But the noises he made encouraged me, and from the angle we were at, Logan and I synced - finally. As I moved, I reached up with one hand, freeing my hair and feeling it tumble down my back, Logan calling out my name as it fell. “Feels so fucking good, goddamn. I can’t believe how good you feel riding me.” He paused and sucked in a loud breath, and I moaned again as he shifted his hips, raising his voice. “I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard, you can’t -”

 “Fuck, Logan!” I yelled his name, gripping his thighs even tighter as my head drooped, body responding to the cadence of his voice, low and sure and as cocky as I’d ever heard it. “Logan, you… I…” I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut, but didn’t stop moving, feeling myself getting closer to fulfilling my end of the promise he’d made me. Logan, please. Don’t stop, don’t. “L-” He was still swearing up a storm, cuffs jangling against the wood as he struggled against them, the movement of his hips a perfect counterpoint to mine, but the words he was saying were lost to me. I was focused on where our bodies were connected, on the way his muscles were taut beneath my fingers, the way he felt sliding into me, the slickness I felt between my legs, evidence of the way that Logan was making me feel, the grip of his hand on my hip… What?

 My eyes flew open and I looked down, seeing Logan’s right hand against the skin of my hip, fingers curled around it, the still closed end of the cuff cold against the side of my leg. “I got it.” He spoke quietly, but his tone was as even as it could be in the moment. Oh shit. I looked back at him over my shoulder and saw his chest heaving, head moving slowly from side to side, the splintered edges of one of the headboard slats next to his face. “I won’t hurt you.” He broke free? He stopped moving and I did too, turning my upper body, grip on his thighs loosening. “If you want to stop, we can, I -” I shook my head, making a decision without stopping to think, pulling off of him again and out of his grip before crawling up the bed next to him.

 Logan pushed one of the pillows out of the way, rolling back onto his side to face me, hand staying at my waist, eyes downcast. No. You don’t get to do this to yourself. Reaching over with one hand, I touched the side of his face and he took a breath, slowly looking up at me. “You gonna finish this, Logan?” His eyes widened, and I took his free hand in mine, pulling it from my waist and placing it against my cheek, nodding as I lowered my lips to his, kissing him. I trust you. I can get away if I need to. Logan grunted against my mouth, returning the kiss and I lowered myself onto the bed next to him, one leg hooking over his hip, my hand reaching behind me to help guide him back into me.

 But I didn’t move my hips, instead waiting for Logan to make the move, and when he did, with a gentle jerk of his hips, the noise at the back of my throat gave me away without fail. Shit. Logan tugged on my hair for long moments before he moved his hand away, fingers against the skin of my arm before sliding it lower, his grip returning to my hip as he rolled his against mine, the movement practiced and fluid. He didn’t break the kiss until he’d rolled me onto my back, cuffed arm once again under my head, supporting it without breaking stride, his long fingers flexing against my skin. “Talk to me,” he rasped into my ear. “I’ve been doin’ all the talking, and it’s your turn now.” I’m not… I don’t… “You look so good right now. Below me? Even better than on top of me.” I gasped, crying out as he spoke into my ear, his hair tickling the skin beneath my eye. “You won’t talk?” I can’t. He cleared his throat, teeth grazing my cheek, his chin moving against my jaw. “That’s fine. I’ll keep goin’.”

 And he did, whispering things to me that were absolutely filthy, carefully timing his thrusts to line up with his words, the strokes of his fingers up and down my side, the kisses he planted on my lips and my throat, lips moving over the skin as if he was worried he’d break me. But below that? His hips slammed into mine, my leg tightly wrapped around him, toes curling as he took me right to the edge once more, filling me in a way that he never had before. I gripped his back, knowing that my nails were going to leave marks on his skin - as red and angry as the marks he left on his own arms, but a lot less dangerous. It felt like we’d been in bed for hours, but that’s how it always felt with Logan; endless minutes, non-stop pleasure… except this time, we’d both remember all of it. “Logan…” I muttered his name, eyes squeezed shut. “I want to come, please.”

 “You were made for me to fuck, Jesus.” Logan swore, biting down on my shoulder, the sharp sensation of pain followed by him saying my name. “Hey.” I opened my eyes, looking up at him, surprised to see the intensity in his gaze. “You feel fucking amazing, but it’s time for you to come.” I nodded, breathless, watching as Logan dragged his tongue over his upper lip, raising an eyebrow. He circled his hips in the opposite direction from what I was expecting and then pulled back, pausing. “Now.” He thrust forward again at the same time that he gripped my thigh, tugging upward on it to open me up more and I came - hard - crying out below him, trying and failing to say his name even though I was breathless.

 He didn’t stop moving, though, prolonging my pleasure as he continued to buck his hips into me, sweat present on his brow and against the skin of his back, slick beneath my fingers. “Logan,” I swallowed, finally finding my voice sliding my hands down to his ass and squeezing, urging him to go deeper, even though I was so sensitive that it almost hurt every time he moved. “Your turn. C’mon Logan. Fill me up.” He moaned, the sound low and long, his sweaty forehead drooping against my clavicle as I leaned toward him, speaking into his ear. “Come, Logan. I want to feel you, I want you to fi-” He grunted, hips stuttering as he yelled, the sound turning into a groan as his fingers tightened even more against my skin, the feeling of him pulsing inside me combined with the added warmth of his ending rendering me speechless again, weak beneath him and unable to think - let alone move. Oh my fucking God.

 Logan slowed the movement of his hips but didn’t pull out, letting the majority of the weight of his body rest atop mine, one leg slightly bent to keep some of it off and sighed deeply, forehead still pressed against my shoulder. He took a deep breath, hand releasing my hip as my leg fell away from his thigh, my breathing slowly evening out, though I was nowhere close to functional. Silently, Logan shifted, rolling onto his back and tugging me with him, still inside of me. “Wanna look at you,” he breathed, using his free hand to push my hair back from my face, gathering it in his hand and twisting. “Wanna…” He closed his eyes, head falling heavily back onto the pillow. “I wish…” Even though the last thing I wanted to do was get up, I took a deep breath and carefully backed my hips away from Logan’s feeling him slide out of me. Gonna be messy. He opened his eyes again, ready to speak as I scrambled off of the bed, feet finding the floor and taking a moment to steady myself before I stepped away from the bed, crouching down at the foot of it.

 I picked up his pants, reaching into the pocket and taking out the handcuff keys before dropping the material back onto the floor, returning to the edge of the bed next to Logan Suddenly, I felt exposed, the warm sunlight streaming in through the windows, my entire body bared to Logan’s eyes. I looked down, even as I unlocked the cuff from his wrist, leaving the other end hanging from the headboard before wordlessly passing the small piece of metal to Logan, who used it to undo the restraint from his other arm, the cuffs falling to the bed with a quiet clink. Now what? He flexed his fingers, bending his left arm in order to get some of the feeling back into it, and before I had too long to consider my options, Logan’s hand dropped to my thigh, all of the fingers bent toward his exposed palm - except for his index finger, which moved slowly over my skin, knuckle side down.

 “Look at me.” Gone was the authoritative man from a few minutes prior. Logan’s words were little more than a plea, and even though I didn’t want to, I turned my head to him, fighting back tears. How do I tell him what that meant to me? I can’t stay here. I can’t. “What’s wrong?” I shook my head and Logan sat up, leaning closer to me, lips pressed together.  “Hey.” I licked my lips, feeling myself start to shake. I shouldn’t have done that. “Don’t do this.” He said my name, but I was frozen; I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, and Logan acted quickly, wide brown eyes full of something I didn’t expect: fear. “Don’t pull away from me, not now, not after...” His hands moved, and the next thing I knew, I was back in bed next to Logan, body stretched out and facing his, both of his arms tightly around me and one leg hooked over mine as I pressed my face against the front of his shoulder, heart hammering in my chest as I fought back a rising panic in my chest.

 We were both sticky and spent, both still halfway breathless, Logan’s shoulders and chest marked from my nails, and yet I still couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say. It’s done now, we can’t go back. The room was silent, and I could hear the faint sound of the ocean through the window, but neither of us spoke for minutes. I had plenty of things I wanted to say - questions I wanted to ask, but I didn’t know where to start. It’s not your right. Logan shifted, pulling his arm out from beneath me, and I braced myself, stiffening as I prepared for the worst.

 “No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.” He sounded unsure, and I finally looked back up at him, surprise evident on my face. “You… trusted me totally, even after I got free.” He grinned - a shadow of his usual expression, but it was still real. “You shoulda told me to stop, should’ve re-attached the… but you didn’t.” He shook his head, fingertips moving across my back, lightly touching the skin that he’d been gripping only a short time before. “I’m not an idiot,” he continued, eyes narrowing for a second. “I know it’s not this easy, right? Once isn’t enough.” He shook his head. “But you trusted me, and I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would feel like that.” Logan leaned closer to me, brushing his lips against mine, and when I didn’t pull away, he pressed more firmly, hand pausing against my back and pushing against it, drawing me closer to him. “This feels good.” He sighed, nuzzling against my face with his nose, closing his eyes and dropping a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “You feel… right.” What?

 “Logan, what are you…” His eyes opened, finding mine. Right? “I don’t…” My heartbeat quickened, and I shifted, unwilling to get my hopes up, despite what had just happened between us.

 “Can we talk about it later?” He swallowed, eyes squeezing shut as he held back a yawn. “You wore me out.” His hand moved from my back to my side, and Logan turned his head toward the pillow, unable to stop the yawn that followed. “I’m… fuck, I’m tired.” Yeah. OK. I steadied myself and started to roll away from him, preparing to collect my clothes and leave when Logan froze next to me. “Where are you going?” Unable to help myself, I reached over, moving my fingers through his hair and exposing his entire face.

 “I’m gonna go, Logan. It’s… we can talk about this later or…” Or never. But instead of letting me go, Logan’s hold on me tightened, eyes opening all the way.

 “No. Please.” The word leaving his lips again astounded me and I stopped moving, unsure. He never says please. “I want you to stay.” He nodded, the weight behind his words supported by the action and the expression on his face. “Stay with me.” We’d passed out together before, utterly exhausted from the alcohol and the sex and waking up on opposite sides of the bed, tangled in the sheets and blankets, but Logan had never actually asked  me to stay - it just happened, and it wasn’t ever discussed, one of us simply waking up earlier than the other and leaving without any of the awkward conversation. It was never awkward between us, not after the first night, because we’d always known what was going on - what our encounters meant… until now.

 “Of course, Logan.” He relaxed as I agreed, and I rolled over and away from him, unable to look him in the eye any longer. It’s a start. A few seconds later, I felt Logan moving, the bed shifting under his weight and a faint “thunk” as the handcuffs hit the floor when Logan pulled the blanket flat, draping it over us. I expected him to leave space in the bed like usual, but was shocked when I felt him lay back down, one arm tentatively wrapping around me and pulling my back to his chest, knees bending to fit with mine. I could hear him breathing, feel the warm air against my back, the pads of his fingers spread out against my abdomen. There was a pause in his breathing, a soft exhale, and I moved without thinking again, turning my body toward him as much as I could, lips seeking his out and finding them exactly where I hoped they would be.

 He kissed me desperately, the hand sliding up my body beneath the blanket, his torso shifting so that I could roll to face him, the upper half of his body propped up on one elbow, his other arm bent on the far side of my body, hand flat against the back of my head, fingers tangled in my hair. I do need you, Logan. I thought I did before, but I know it now. “Stay.” He whispered the word against my mouth and I nodded, finally opening my eyes to look up at him, feeling his chest pressed against mine. “We’ll figure this all out, but I…” He gritted his teeth together, kissing me again. “I need you here.”

 Settling down next to me, Logan again fit his body with mine, even though I rolled over to lay flat on my stomach, head turned to face him as one arm slid beneath the pillow. Instead of resting his hand on my back, Logan reached over, keeping his fingers in my hair, tilting his head downward so that his nose was pressed against my bare shoulder. Neither of us spoke again, and after only a few minutes, his breathing evened out - Logan was sound asleep again, and try as I might to fight sleep so that I could figure out what the fuck I was going to do next, I felt myself drifting off too, fingers absently trailing over Logan’s back.

---

[tellcardtowrite]

ALTERNATE SASSVERSE - the getting-together-moment of that malik/altair/sofia triad thats so wonderfully amusing and so terribly horrible for leo

Sass AU | Malik/Altair/Sofia | Nc-17 for sex things

It started with an armchair.  Malik was not the gargantuan monster that his brother was, he wasn’t excessively tall or plump.  He wasn’t thin enough to be considered skinny, he wasn’t short enough to qualify as small.  He was perfectly in the middle and it allowed him the versatility of being tall around shorter friends, and tall enough around taller friends (except Kadar who was endlessly amused that he’d outgrown his brother).  And it allowed him, when the occasion called for it, to share spaces not meant to fit two.  

The arm chair had been the unfortunate side of a good compromise.  Altair had argued a new mattress in exchange for thrift-shop chairs.  Malik had fallen in love with the overstuffed leather arm chair.  (It had been a recliner during it’s better years, but it could not be quantified as one now.)  It sat in the corner of their living room, away from the painter’s plastic that seemed to move from one spot to another without ever once making it entirely out of the house.  (The projects were endless, and the plastic necessary, and so Altair tolerated it.)  Sometimes the chair faced the TV, and sometimes it faced a wall but it was never very far at all from the little bookshelf in the corner that held all of Malik’s favorite books.  It was always reliably near a bottle of water and a warm blanket.  There was a folded-over pillow, long past it’s prime, that sat in the ratty corner of the chair waiting to be shuffled into exactly the right space to optimize comfort.

Altair hated the chair on principle.

But Malik loved it.

Everything that happened after started with the chair, in the corner of their living room, in the first house they ever truly lived in together.  It started with a chance observation, when Altair was feeling pitiful and trapped, and Malik was ignoring him over it. 

Sofia was curled into the chair like cat, her body gracefully, and carelessly, laying against Malik’s as if there was no reason at all she should feel the need to leave space between them.  As if she weren’t being observed at all.  Her hair was tangled up in Malik’s where their heads were touching, her hand was holding up half the book they were reading.  Her arm, caught between them, always seemed to find itself winding around Malik’s shoulders. 

Malik never refused Sofia’s request to crawl into that narrow space at his side.

But he never allowed anyone else to sit in his chair.  There had been plenty of people, classmates, and family and friends (if one called Leonardo a friend).  Malik never failed to refuse them.  Leonardo tried (of course he did) and every time Malik said, “get out of my chair.”

–

It never quite came to a head, it never fully became a fight, but once, before a social gathering, Altair found Kadar and Malik standing in front of the chair, regarding how inviting it looked (to them).  

“It’s a really nice chair,” Kadar said to his brother.  “It’s not like you have a lot of other seats.”  He motioned at the perfectly good couch and the brand new arm chair across the room as if they were subpar.

“It’s my chair,” Malik said.

“Well.  You either have to put your name on it, piss on it, or move it to another room because I’m telling you right now, if this chair is in this room, someone is going to sit in it.”

Malik sneered at that, like a bad taste on his tongue, and then, “help me move it.”

–

After, when there was nothing but red cups and crumbs on the party trays, Altair was shoving plastic silverware into the overstuffed trash bag, caught up in thinking through the ridiculousness of having to explain why one of their chairs had gone missing.  “Am I allowed to sit in the chair?”

Malik was across the room, rolling his eyes at leftover drinks.  “That’s what they’re for I think.”

“No.  Your chair.  Am I allowed to sit in your chair?”

Bless his boyfriend for a brain that never stopped working through things, and never quite arrived at easy conclusions, Malik just stared at him as if he hadn’t developed a whole complicated system of judgment regarding who could and couldn’t sit in his chair.  As if Malik’s bias wasn’t so obvious that he’d allow Kadar to not only sit in the stupid chair but fall asleep in and spill soda all over it but Leonardo’s perfectly awake, perfectly courteous ass couldn’t so much as hover a single butt cheek over it without getting screamed at.  Malik looked at him as if he had never heard such a ridiculous fucking question in his entire fucking life.  “But you don’t want to,” wasn’t an answer or a question.  It was simply announcing how Altair had been excluded from thought.

“If I did,” Altair said.

“Sure.”

–

Any good theory had to be tested.  Altair laid a blanket over the ratty old leather and invited himself to sit in the chair when he knew that Malik would be home soon.  He lingered, leaning back, trying to figure out exactly what made the stupid chair as inviting and comforting as Malik claimed it was.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t special either.  It was just a chair, in a corner, next to a stack of books.  

Malik came home with a pinch in his face that followed unannounced quizzes and overdue homework.  He rounded the corner to the living room, still shrugging off his book bag.  There was no mistaking the instant, confused, annoyed surprise on his face when he found Altair where an empty chair should have been.  He dropped his bag on the floor and stood there, just looking at him (attempting to act innocent), assessing how he felt about it.  The wheels inside Malik’s mind were churning so fast there should have been smoking leaking out his eyeballs, but in the end he just invited himself to sit right in Altair’s lap.  “Yeah,” he said, like a real answer to a long ago question, “you’re good.”

Altair kissed him.

–

All evidence and observation in place, there was no mistaking the obvious conclusion.  Regardless of sexual preference, Malik loved Sofia.  He didn’t love her how he loved his brother–who was only allowed use of the chair unless Malik wanted it.  He loved her in the same set of brackets that he loved Altair, where the chair that was meant for one became big enough for two, and bodies that were meant to be separate slid together so closely they got tangled up and confused.  

–

“Yeah,” Desmond said over breakfast in New York, looking wide-awake and reasonable because he hadn’t just gotten off a plane.  Because he hadn’t just realized his boyfriend, his troublesome, irritating, perfectionist, judgmental and completely gay asshole of a boyfriend was in love with a woman.  “But it’s not what you’re making it seem like.  They’re just friends.”

“Leonardo is Malik’s friend.”

Desmond just stared at him.  He stared, and waited, and stared, and–

“Look,” Altair said before Desmond could figure out how to address the obvious trap, “I know that they used to have sex.  And I know that Leonardo loves him and I know it wasn’t the sort of relationship you usually have with your friends but Malik doesn’t have friends.  He has people he tolerates, he has family, he has people he sort of likes and then he has Leonardo, his friend, and Sofia his other friend and me his boyfriend.”

“And because he lets you sit in the chair, and you have sex with him and he loves you, that means he loves Sofia and would have sex with her?”

“No,” Altair said.  “He’s very gay.”

“I–” Desmond looked helpless.  He looked desperately toward the hall, as if he could summon his wife through sheer power of will.  “I don’t understand what you’re upset about?  He’s gay so he won’t cheat on you with the woman he loves?  What are you worried about?  He doesn’t want to be with her.  He wants to be with you.”

“Sofia loves him,” Altair said (again, slowly).  “Sofia definitely loves him the way I love him.  The rip his clothes off and fuck him because you can’t stand it sort of love.  And the sit quietly together kind of love.  Malik isn’t saying no to her.”

“But he’s gay,” Desmond repeated.

–

Kadar listened, across a platter of tacos, nodding with every single word until Altair was finished.  In the quiet, he stared at the bits of taco debris on his plate, picking which words he wanted to use, arriving at, “Malik doesn’t know that he loves her, Altair.  The only person he’s ever been able to admit to loving is you.  That puts you in a position with a lot of power.  Sofia isn’t going to try anything, she knows he loves you and she respects it.  Malik isn’t going to try anything because he can’t imagine gray areas.  Whatever you have to do, consider it carefully.  Really consider it.”

–

Altair considered a lot of things about the chair, and how Sofia fit perfect next to Malik.  He considered it for weeks, that became months.  He considered it in the middle of the night, and the bright lights of day.  He thought about when he finally managed to get Malik to leave the fucking country and take a look at the rest of the world.

He was thinking about it soaking in a hot tub.

He thought about it when the sweat was still cooling on his back and Malik was sated and snuggling, taking his time about worrying about clean up.  

Altair thought about it until it stopped making sense.

And he thought about it after that too.

–

But Altair wasn’t thinking about anything, working on impulse, suddenly left alone with Sofia in the kitchen of his New York home, watching how she smiled to herself about nothing at all.  She was beautiful in a way that required no effort to see.  (Although enough people had seen, if stuttering second glances were any indication.)  He was supposed to be cutting vegetables but there was his fat mouth spilling out words like, “so what are we going to do about it?”

“Dinner?”

“Malik,” Altair corrected.

Sofia didn’t blanch white, she didn’t turn red.  Her voice didn’t strangle or pitch.  She set down the knife she’d been using and pressed her hands flat against the cutting board in front of her.  When she looked at him, it was gracious, to match the way she said, “if I’ve overstayed my welcome I would understand that you wanted me to go.”

“He loves you,” Altair said.  (And why was it his heart thudding right out of his chest, why was it his heart climbing up his throat.  Why was there any question as to how things would progress.  If Malik could throw tantrums over chairs, Altair was perfectly reasonable to ask for space here.)

“Not the way I want him to,” she said, “and I don’t want to cause problems.  I can refuse his invitations, tell him I have commitments.  I don’t have to be here if you’d rather I wasn’t.”

“I was considering addition, not subtraction.”  (He’d been considering both.  He just couldn’t bring himself to mention how he’d much rather Sofia find another man to fall in love with.  And how selfish, and stupid, and mean to force Malik to give up a person who gave him such comfort.  How intolerant to pretend he couldn’t understand why she would love Malik, when he loved him just the same?)  

Sofia did blush then, a sudden pink rush of blood to her cheeks, “oh,” hadn’t ever considered this outcome.  “I–  That,  I don’t know that.  That is, I don’t know how that might work.”  She looked at him how she hadn’t before, the long stare that belonged in bars with loud music and dim lights, that seemed lewd and almost inappropriate in his kitchen.  “I assume addition involves sex.”

“I would prefer if it did.”

“And I didn’t agree?  Should I expect to be uninvited to Malik’s life?”

(God bless his boyfriend for falling for a woman exactly like him.  A fatalist with a pretty face and a reasonable tone of voice.)  “No,” Altair said, “but we’ll have to find a way to live with one another.”

Sofia sighed, “you’re not unattractive.  I won’t make an commitments or choices without him.”

–

What Altair had said was, maybe we could invite Sofia to be our threesome friend, because they’d been working out how to try out a threesome for a few months.  What Malik heard (or seemed to hear) was: I, Altair, the whore, want to fuck the woman you’re in love with and possibly marry her and move to a foreign country where you’ll never see either of us again.  Our children will be beautiful and you will die alone and be eaten by rats.

“I am not being unreasonable!” Malik shouted at him.

“Yes you are!”

“You want to fuck my friend!  Why I don’t just fuck–” Malik stuttered there, hand out to the side, fingers spread out, grasping for any single man that might have been considered Altair’s friend and arriving at the quick realization that there was nobody that compared that Malik would actually consider having sex with.  “Desmond,” was the finish that admitted it’s own failure before Altair had to point it out.  

“She’s an obvious choice, Malik,” Altair said.

“She’s my friend.”

“Which is why she’s the obvious choice!”

“You want to put your dick in her!” Malik shouted at him.  As if he’d never heard a worse crime in all his life.  As if the idea itself were blasphemous.  As if Altair were deviant for developing any desire for it.  As if asking Sofia to submit to the torment was unthinkable.  

“She likes dick!” Altair shouted back, “just like you!  I’ll put my dick in both of you.”

Malik was stunned stupid, left standing there without a single word to say.  He just stared, standing halfway across the room, completely without a comeback.  All those gears in his brain were chugging away but there was no conclusion to arrive at.  

“Look,” Altair said softly, gently, slowly, “you can’t tell me that you don’t love her.  You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed she loves you too.  All I’m saying is, why don’t we don’t something about it?  Why don’t we try and see if we can make it work?”

“I don’t love her like that,” Malik said.  He stood still, he watched Altair get close, he didn’t move at all.  He was caught up in a confused sensation, trying to reason out this terrible new world he was living in.  “She doesn’t–”

“I’m pretty sure she does.”

–

Sofia’s anger wasn’t a surprise, Altair had been working through anger like white fire for months.  He’d been smothering it so long it felt like second nature, but Sofia’s anger was it’s own special sort.  Her anger was reserved for him and for the chance at getting almost exactly what she wanted.

“What if this ruins it?” she asked him when Malik wasn’t there.  With her hands in fists, “what if it doesn’t work?  What if I lose him?  What then?”

“I don’t know,” was the only answer he had.

–

Altair kissed her first, standing by the end of the bed he shared with his boyfriend, he cupped her beautiful face in his hands and he kissed her before she could talk them all right out of the idea.  Sofia didn’t hesitate with her mouth against his, she didn’t shy away.  Her hands were claws, scratching down his chest from collarbone to waist band.  Her fingers were bold, and hurried, slipping underneath his shirt.  There was no pretense, no shyness, no need to be coy or pretend.

Altair kissed her throat and she tipped her head back, he worked open the buttons on her dress, and she pulled open the button of his jeans.  She pulled at his ass as he cupped her breasts.  She hummed a nice sound and pulled his shirt right over his head.  

Malik invited himself in when Sofia’s dress was a puddle on the floor, when her bra was hanging off one elbow, when Altair was kissing her in time with how warm and sure her hand was sliding down into his pants to assess his dick for suitability.  Malik was offended, left out, reaching his hand in to pull both their attention back to him.  “Tell me how this is fun for me,” he said.

“My God,” Sofia breathed when her mouth was free and she’d worked his dick free from his pants.  There was the three of them staring at it.  “How the fuck do you fit all that in your ass?” she asked like a marvel.

“Slowly,” Malik assured her, he pulled her face to kiss her, trying it out for kicks.  Altair pushed his pants off and followed them down so he was kneeling on the floor listening to the uncertain sounds of Malik kissing a beautiful woman.  Despite the protests and his pouting face, Malik was hard enough to consider the experiment a success (for now).  He groaned when his pants were pulled down, his hand dropped from Sofia’s face to push through Altair’s hair.  

“Oh,” Sofia whispered.  Altair felt her hand on his shoulder, looked sideways as his mouth slid down Malik’s dick.  There she was, dropping to her knees as her tongue ran across her lips.  “Share,” she said.  

“Do you like giving head?” Malik asked.  He was looking down at them, pink and confused and perfectly okay with having his dick shared between them.  

–

Sofia kissed him when he was flat on his back, getting fucked by Malik.  Her quick, soft hands were jerking his dick without urgency, getting used to the idea of it.  Her palm was damp with sweat, and spit and pre-cum, sliding up and down with a slushy, slick sound entirely separate to the sound of Malik’s thrusts.  And she kissed him with consideration, moaning pleased sounds when he touched her how she wanted.  

“Can you come like this?” she asked him.

“Not with how you’re doing it,” he answered.

“Can you?”  She propped herself up on an elbow, looked down his body to where Malik was sitting back on his knees, one hand gripping at Altair’s thigh, holding him in place as he thrust forward so he was as deep as he could get, and just stopped.  His hair was soaked in sweat, his cheeks red with effort, his voice heavy and so close to orgasm it was hard to understand.  “Fucking him?”

“When he does it to you,” Sofia said.

Malik’s blush was embarrassed, and adorable, and–  “Yeah.  Most of the time.  He can too, you just have to jerk him off faster.”

Sofia’s smile offered no mercy, “I want a turn when you’re done.”

“Oh,” Malik said.  He started again, faster.  Sofia let go of Altair’s dick so she could lean back into the pillows and watch.  (Oh-god-and wasn’t there an sort of special thrill to just being watched?)  

“Don’t rush on my account,” she said. 

–

“You look good on your back,” she whispered into his ear when Malik was stripping the condom off.  Her voice was full of promises, her hand was sneaking across his chest to pull at his ribs, to invite him off his back and right up between her thighs.  There was the brief matter of a fresh condom, and Malik crawling up to lay at her side, and Sofia’s hand on his dick pulling him right into place.  

“Oh god,” she gasped with one arm around Malik and her legs clenched around Altair’s hips half-way-in.  Malik looked at her with a sloppy sort of smile, like he knew exactly what she meant, like he was proud of her for making it so far, like he’d never seen anything more beautiful in all his life.  He kissed her like that, falling in and out of it, whispering sweet-and-encouraging and filthy things about how it was worth it, how good it felt when you got used to it.  

Altair fucked her to the tune of Malik’s encouraging sweet-nothings.

–

Whatever doubts Altair woke up with were quickly put aside when he found Sofia-and-Malik at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper opposite one another.  

“Oh good,” she said.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Altair asked.  There were coffee mugs but no breakfast plates.  (That didn’t mean anything, but there was always a chance.)  

“No,” Malik said.  “I thought we should have sex again.”

“Otherwise it would be awkward,” Sofia said.  “It’s a little awkward anyway, but we can either talk about it and why it feels awkward or we can have sex again.”

“And you didn’t get the chance to give Sofia head,” Malik pointed out.

“Assuming you wanted to,” Sofia added.

“He does,” Malik assured her.  “Trust me.”

“What are your thoughts, should we try to discuss our feelings about how it went or should we have sex, breakfast and then try to discuss it?”

Altair had gotten fuzzy about listening about the time he’d been offered the chance to give Sofia head.  (Not that he’d been listening all that hard after it had been announced there was no breakfast yet.)  “Sex is fine.”

–

Sofia didn’t move in, but she visited.  

She stayed for weekends, and vacations, and special occasions.

She lived out of a suitcase and she brought her own toothbrush.  

And things worked out, for a while.

–

“I’m going to ask him to marry me.”  

Sofia was fixing her hair in the mirror, Altair was rinsing out his toothbrush.  His bathroom counter was littered with all the belongings she shoved into her travel bag.  “I’m sure he’ll say yes.  Are you nervous?”

“No.  I think you should consider not leaving this time.”

Sofia snorted, she gave up on arranging her bangs in any specific order, she looked at him fully.  “I do enjoy our flings.  I appreciate that you’ve let me share your relationship but this is an unsustainable model.  This works because I’m not here every day.  I’m not a challenge or a burden when I’m not always around.  I can tolerate the end of this for the sake of the start of a lasting relationship but I couldn’t stand to watch him grow tired of me.”

Altair snorted.  “You’re just like him, you know.  You’re both idiots.  You’re both very intelligent idiots.  Maybe I don’t love you the way I love him.  Maybe he won’t ever want to fuck you the way he wants to fuck me.  But between all three of us we have everything we need to make this work.  Ask him, if you don’t believe me.  He’ll tell you the same thing.  He wants you to stay.”  

–

They were three weeks into a social experiment, sharing seven bedrooms with three people, pretending to share one relationship.  Sofia was sitting cross legged on the couch, rolling her eyes at her phone.  Malik was reading at the opposite end and Altair was trying (and failing) to beat Desmond at the stupid racing game (again).  

“Oh,” Sofia snapped at the phone, like she hated it.  “If you don’t tell this stubborn fucking asshole I’m going to do it.”  She slapped the phone face down on the table.

“Fine,” Malik said.

“Fine?” Sofia snapped back.  “What happened to sparing his feelings?”

Malik shrugged.  “I was just going to wait until he figured it out.”

“Tell who?” Desmond asked.

Altair gave up the attempt, looked over his shoulder at Sofia’s perfectly delighted face, and how she was only waiting for him to look at her.  She didn’t invite him on a road trip (out loud) but everything from the way her eyebrows lifted to the quirk of her smile was asking him if he wanted to hop on a plane right this moment.  “Leonardo.”

[themillenniumscribe]

Yu-Gi-Oh: Brilliancy (25)

Her name is Clarisa Swansea. She was born in Hong Kong to a wealthy yet loving family, a father, mother, and two older sisters. A competitive beast in women’s lacrosse with a pretty face to match, there was no mistaking that she was striving for greatness far beyond any expectations. But, when one accident took her family along with her mobility, her life took an intriguing turn into the world of chess.

Things were not looking good for Jounouchi. Clarisa could tell more by the sweat streaming down his face than the limited game mechanics she knew. However, it soon became clear that Malik had the upper hand, especially when his Magic Jammer thwarted the only defense Jounouchi had against his snake men.

“He really is hanging on by a thread…” Clarisa murmured, feeling her heart drop when the counter stopped at a measly 200 life points. Her head turned, opening her mouth to inquire about Jounouchi’s options but the disgruntled look on Kaiba’s face thwarted her attempts. He was certainly in no mood to cater to her questions.

“Honda, my brother really can’t win anymore?” Shizuka’s voice carried fairly well, much to Clarisa’s chagrin. She grimaced further when she heard Honda spluttering in an attempt to assure the red head that Jounouchi could still make it.

“It’s very unlikely.” Mai interrupted Honda’s stutters. “Shizuka, I told you this before. Dueling is a world of cruelty. Even if it’s your sibling fighting, you can’t turn your eyes away from this reality. But, at the very least, he can fight on until the very end.”

Clarisa couldn’t see Mai’s body language from where she was but she already decided she liked the practicality of her words.

Jounouchi was on his knees, a faint tremble through his frame. Feebly, his hand raised, inching closer to his Duel Disk with uncertain fingers.

“What is he doing?” Clarisa whispered to Mokuba, the younger Kaiba shrugging.

“Looks like he’s going to surrender.” Though she couldn’t get a good look at his face, Clarisa could feel the seething anger radiating from Kaiba.

“Jounouchi! I have something to tell you before you surrender!” The blonde boy stopped, his brown eyes slanting in Mai’s direction. Though Clarisa couldn’t see her, she could feel the strength radiating from her words.

“A winning duelist has to take responsibility!” She cried. “Those who lost to you…Insector Haga, Esper Roba, and Ryota Kajiki…If it was them fighting here in your place, what do you think they would do?”

Her words hit something in Jounouchi’s person. His eyes glazed over and Clarisa could see a small fire starting to spark within him once more.

“What would they think if they saw you like this? Of course, maybe you shouldn’t care about those who lost. But, you inherit the loser’s dreams along with your win!” Mai continued to press on, her voice becoming steady. “This is the fate of someone who wants to win. It is what makes a real Duelist who they are! If you don’t mind shaming them, place your hand on the deck!”

“You can do it, big brother!” Now, it was Shizuka’s turn. “You’ve worked so hard for yourself and for your friends!”

Jounouchi perked up, his eyes sparkling with hope.

“And for me as well!” It was faint but Clarisa could hear a crack in her voice. She imagined the girl’s eyes welling with tears. “If I didn’t have you by my side, I would have been too scared to have my surgery! I wouldn’t have been able to take off the bandages either! If I didn’t have you, I would still be wandering in darkness! You’ve continued to fight and you gave me the light I needed to live!”

Something about Shizuka’s words stung Clarisa in a place she had come to terms with long ago. Her heart ached and she could feel a slight sting at the edge of her eyes. She tried to push it to the back of her mind, lips turning inward to stifle the memory of those azure eyes.

But, her own memory came to a halt when she turned her attention to the opposing Duelist, Malik. He was just as lost in thought, his gaze turning up to face the moon while Shizuka continued her words of encouragement. Something didn’t sit right with Clarisa and her brow furrowed to reflect her state of mind.

“Jounouchi,” He called from across the field. “Will you answer one question for me before the end arrives?”

Jounouchi didn’t give a verbal reply but his pointed gaze was permission enough.

“What did you seek by fighting in this Battle City tournament?”

“…There’s someone I must fight no matter what!” He replied. “To keep my promise with him!”

The fire was growing faster now. Jounouchi’s confidence was returning.

“I’ve met all kinds of people on my journey to this point and I fought them! That’s enough of an answer!”

“Well, it certainly is an answer…” Clarisa chuckled from her seat. The more time she spent observing and interacting with Jounouchi, the more she started to like his spirit.

“Now, I got something to say to you!”

“Oh boy…” Her smile faded, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Jounouchi stood up, his fighting spirit flaring.

“Take back that ‘before the end’ crap! I haven’t lost yet!” He snapped. “That’s right! If I lose here, what am I gonna tell the guys I fought who paved the path for me?! Every single one of them fought me until the very end without giving up!”

He was back in the duel, announcing the beginning of his turn and drawing. Clarisa couldn’t help but take a bit of pride in his returning confidence. That and she relished that Kaiba was more annoyed than usual by this particular underdog.

“But, there is nothing more you can do.” Malik replied cryptically. “Is having the courage to accept their loss not also a part of being a Duelist?”

“You can always accept defeat and decide to continue the fight.” Clarisa speaking up must have been shocking. She could feel more eyes than one locking onto her but the ones she focused on most were Malik’s amber orbs. Her blue-grey eyes flashed, a smirk curling on her peach colored lips.

“But, why bother?” Malik retorted, his gaze narrowing. “There’s nothing left to do. His defeat is eminent.”

“I find that hard to believe considering he still has cards to draw and life points to lose.” She replied quickly. “The least he could do is to pony up and see this through to the end.”

His silence unsettled her but what was more unsettling was his eyes. There was something genuine about his eyes, something painful and aching. This didn’t seem like the man who would force friends to duel each other to the death.

“Jounouchi!” Clarisa cried, turning her head to stare at him. “I’ve got some words of my own for you!”

He listened attentively.

“When I was in lacrosse, I was taught to assess my opponents right away to know if there was a chance of my team winning. Sometimes, it was clear the moment we walked onto the field that we were in a losing battle.” Her shoulders stiffened as she smiled wide. “But, despite those odds, we never threw a match. You never do because, despite the eminent defeat, the least you can do for your opponent is to make sure that you fight long and hard so they rightfully earn that win.”

She could see Jounouchi’s lips curling into a smile, which coaxed her own to brighten.

“Besides, even if your opponent takes you out, you always make sure to hit them hard enough to remember how painstaking it was for them to defeat you.” Her voice shifted, turning dark through her grin. “They may break your arm but they’ll remember their black eye.”

“Thanks, Risa.” He replied back, giving her a light salute with his fingers. Then, he turned on Malik.

“I may have a close to zero hope of winning but, like everyone said, I can’t just give up that easily! That’s not what a real Duelist is, the thing I’m aiming to become!” His brown eyes were burning, aiming in on Malik with a particularly hot intensity. “I’ll struggle down the path I’ve chosen with the deck I built!”

Jounouchi pressed on, effectively utilizing his turn to summon one of his powerful monsters to eliminate Malik’s pesky trap monsters and two more for a three monster assault on Malik’s life points. Yugi and his friends were over the moon, Clarisa catching a few of their cheers from where she sat. She glanced up at Kaiba, attempting to read what he was thinking. Most of what she received was horrible mocking.

“That was an impressive comeback, Jounouchi…” Malik croaked through his recovery. “Despite being almost out of Life Points, you showed your pride as a Duelist by standing up to me.”

“Mokuba,” Clarisa murmured quietly. “Remind me of Malik’s role in all of this?”

“I already told you, Risa.” He sighed. “He’s the leader of the Ghouls and is after Yugi and his friends.”

“And he’s the one who forced Jounouchi and Yugi to duel with an anchor on their ankles?”

“Yep.” Clarisa slanted her eyes.

“Are we sure that’s him?” Her skepticism must have piqued Mokuba’s interest. The boy was facing her with a scowl on his face.  

“What do you mean?” He asked. “Of course it’s him.”

“Maybe it’s just me but compliments and forcing two teens to duel or face forcible drowning seems a bit paradoxical. Don’t you think?” Her words hung in the air for a moment and uncertainty seemed to grip Mokuba. His frown faded, hazel eyes brightening with the realization of Clarisa’s observation.

The duel continued, Jounouchi still maintaining the upper hand until Sealing Swords was placed on the field. Unable to attack, Jounouchi ended his next turn but not before summoning another powerful monster onto the field. Malik’s turn came, prompting him to lay down a card on the field. However, during his play, Clarisa noticed that something had changed in Malik’s demeanor.

He stuttered when he made his move, his fingers trembling lightly. Occasionally, he would glance to Yugi’s side of the stadium. Clarisa wasn’t sure if it was because he had a fondness of staring Yugi down or if there was someone over there that Malik was drawing strength from.

“That valuable card sure is wasted on a mere lab rat…” Kaiba’s remark snapped Clarisa back into attention. She looked up and saw that Jounouchi had brought out yet another really powerful monster. Though, this one looked even worse than the cybernetic giant he placed earlier.

“At least a lab rat has a use to gain more knowledge.” Clarisa retorted. “An asshole only spews shit.”

The glare that Clarisa received was well worth the insult. But, much to her disappointment, he didn’t dignify her with a reply. Mokuba, however, was choking back his shock by covering his mouth.

“Now then! The effects of Sealing Swords of Light disappear on my next turn!” Jounouchi declared, breaking up the impending spat between Kaiba and Clarisa. “But, you don’t have a single monster on the field! You’re history if I attack you with all three of my Monsters at once!”

“No, you will not be touching me with any of these Monsters.” Malik was firm, stoically staring Jounouchi down with a sickening determination. “So long as the card I placed in the ark remains in the Temple of the Royal Family’s alter, it shall not be harmed by the enemy’s attacks or magic card effects.”

“What?” Jounouchi looked startled.

“And I was simply using the Sealing Swords of Light as a way to buy time while I performed a ritual.” Malik extended his arms out in perfect showmanship. “The three cards I’ve gathered on the field hold the power to Summon the great guardian of the temple, protecting the sacred sealed card!”

Three card flips occurred in succession, releasing a chain reaction that summoned a most terrifying creature. A red and gold scorpion crept out from the purple mist, the individual sockets of exoskeleton shifting as its mouth widened to expose a myriad of sharp teeth.

“The Mystical Beast Selket exists to defend the sacred card sealed in the ark!” Malik roared.

“Sacred card?” Jounouchi choked. “So then, the card you sealed in that ark…”

“Yes! It’s the god card!” His deep voice bellowed over Jounouchi. “The Winged Dragon of Ra!”  

A hologram flashed of a golden phoenix buried deep inside the altar above. Though it seemed much more delightful to the eye, Clarisa had a sinking feeling that this card was much more dangerous than the creepy looking scorpion on watch.

[reddeaddamnation]

Imagine: Playfully stealing something of theirs

Alexios

When he walked into your shared home, he surely didn't expect to see you wearing his helmet and staring at yourself in a mirror. He was quite amused to be honest and just couldn't help but let out a little chuckle before walking over to you and hugging you from behind. "And what do you think you are doing?" He asked with a smirk on his face. You removed the heavy metal armor piece from your head and let out a sigh of relief. "Honestly, Alexios, I sometimes wonder how you wear something this heavy without getting a headache."

Bayek

Senu has been gone for several hours now, longer than she usually is, and Bayek was seriously starting to get worried. The worst case scenarios just flooded his mind and he started looking for her in an almost panicked state. He wondered what could have happened that Senu didn't want to come home. Was she hurt? Lost? Or worse... Dead? He decided to go to your house and ask if you had seen her, but when he saw you outside in your garden, unbelievable relief flooded him. Senu was sleepily leaning against you, casually standing on your forearm and you were gently caressing her feathers. "Y/N! What a relief!" Bayek exclaimed happily. "Oh, I'm sorry if I got you worried. Senu just came out of the blue, threw a dead rodent in my feet and sat on my arm since... Hours actually... You can almost say I stole her away from you" You explained with a laugh "And I am not going to lie, my arm is starting to hurt a bit..."

Altair

Maybe the prank you decided to pull on Altair was a bit too much... But at least Malik got something to laugh about for days. You were angry that Altair was ignoring you the past few days and so you decided to steal his clothes while he was bathing. What came over you, you really didn't know. But still, you patiently waited until he turned his back on you and carefully snuck up to the pile on the ground. Grabbing it and running as fast as you could, you could hardly keep in your laughter. Along the way, Malik stopped you and asked what the hell you were doing and when he heard the explanation he hunched over because his stomach started to hurt from laughter. About ten minutes later, you could hear a roar, which you distinguished to be your name coming from the baths and another roar, but this time of laughter, coming from Malik next to you. "You should run now, Y/N. I'd hate to be in your place if he catches you."

Ezio

Ezio always wanted to see what you looked like wearing just his coat with nothing underneath, so that was exactly the plan for you right now. While he was bathing, you quickly discarded your clothes and grabbed the assassin robe Ezio wore and threw it over your body, draping the hood over your head. It was quite heavy even without the weapons Ezio always had on himself. Then you sat on the bed and crossed your legs, which you made sure to expose as much as possible and waited until he came in the bedroom and saw you. "Oh, Y/N, this is quite unexpected." Ezio exclaimed with a smirk as his eyes scanned your body. You giggled and motioned for him to come closer "This robe is actually quite comfortable. I might keep it." You stated playfully, watching him with daring eyes. "The colors really do look great on you. But we will see how long it will be yours, because I plan on taking it off very soon~"

Connor

When Connor came home, he didn't expect to see you outside with his bow, aiming at a big red circle, painted onto a tree. "What are you doing?" He asked with an amused smile. "Oh, hey, love. Sorry, I didn't tell you I wanted to do some target practice." You answered with a smile of your own. "But do you even know how to use a bow?" He questioned again. "Technically no, but the good news is that I didn't waste that many arrows." You giggled nervously. Connor stepped behind you and reached to hold your hands. "Allow me to teach you."

Haytham

You and Haytham had a rather nasty fight this morning, which left the both of you mad at each other, but nonetheless you still missed him when he left to do god knows what. You walked into his office and noticed he had left his hat. You picked it up and placed it on your head, looking in a mirror. "Name's Haytham Kenway." You mocked "May the father of understanding guide us." You added funny expressions to your change of voice "I am grand master and I will feed you with your teeth." You sneered. Suddenly someone cleared their throat behind you, making you turn around, startled, and removed the hat hurriedly. Haytham was leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed over his chest. "I'm gone for ten minutes and here you are mocking me." He stated with amusement. "Well you made me mad." You answered childishly. "Oh, what am I going to do with you?" He laughed.

Edward

"Alright, men, all hands on deck!" Your voice boomed, jerking Edward awake. He looked around and seeing you weren't next to him, he walked out of the captain's cabin to see what was going on. "All sails to the wind, come on!" You yelled to the crew and they relentlessly listened. "My, lass, what on earth is going on?" He asked through a laugh. "We're going treasure hunting, Edward!" You answered with a smile, stationed comfortably behind the wheel "I found... Well... Borrowed... A map. And it leads to a big treasure!" Edward walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you "And you decided to borrow my ship and crew as well?" He smirked. "Can you say no to the lady, Edward?" Adewale asked through a laugh as he walked up to the wheel as well. "Hmm, you may be right, Ade. That would be a bad idea." Edward chuckled and kissed your cheek before letting go to lean against the fence "Alright, captain, lead the way."

Shay

"Have you seen my weapons?" Shay asked you. He had searched all over the Morrigan but his weapons were nowhere to be found and he had to urgently go on a mission. "No." You answered. Shay looked at you "Are you sure?" The truth was that you had stolen them and hid them so he didn't have to leave. "...Yes." You answered nervously. "Come on, Y/N. Give them to me. The sooner I leave, the sooner I'll be back." He pleaded. "No! I don't want you to go in the first place!" You answered stubbornly. He sighed tiredly "You know I wouldn't if I didn't have to." He reasoned but you were determined to not let him go. "Can't Haytham do his own jobs for once?" You weren't very fond of his superior and Shay knew it. "He has enough on his plate already. Even if its not today I still have to leave soon so please, Y/N..." But you cut him off. "No! Every time you leave, I have to sit here and worry if you will even come back! I'm sick of it, Shay!" You yelled. "Lass, you know I can take care of myself. You know I do. You know I will always come back to you. Everything will be fine. Its just for three days." Shay tried to calm you down. "Do you trust me?" He asked. After a long silence, you glanced at him angrily "Under the mattress." You murmured angrily "And just promise me to be careful..."

Arno

"Come on, Y/N, give it back!" Arno laughed as he chased you around the garden of the Cafe Theatre. You had stolen his scarf before engaging in a run as if your life depended on it. "You'll have to catch me first, love!" You answered. You stopped to hide behind a tree and take a small break. His footsteps were nowhere to be heard so you thought you were safe. You looked behind your shoulder in case he is sneaking up on you. But then you heard a soft drop behind you and someone wrapping their arms around you. "Got you." You could hear the smirk in Arno's voice. By the time you realized what was going on, he had snatched the scarf from your hands and placed a beautiful purple flower in its place.

Jacob

"Full house." You stated and threw your cards on the table in front of Jacob, who cursed for the thousandth time this evening. For some reason, he suggested playing strip poker, but what he didn't know was that you were master of the game and managed to leave him only in his top hat and underwear without losing a single garment. At least you were in the train hideout and there was no danger of anyone seeing. "You're cheating!" He protested. "That's what they all say." You rolled your eyes and motioned with your hand "Off with the hat." He grumbled something and hesitantly gave you his hat. "Mine now!" You exclaimed and placed it on your head, watching him with a smirk. "I want it back after the game." He proclaimed. "You will have to win it back, sweetheart." You teased and stuck out your tongue. You were about to cut the cards again when you heard the door open and a loud "My god!" come from a petrified Evie.