#look at me! finding beauty in everything! even in the wax play guide (<- doing research for its fic)

[daz4i]

this is poetry to me

[bluecookies02]

Kinktober2020 -ending kink fest

Dabi,Hawks,Shigaraki(separately)-❗️NSFW❗️

warnings: consensual gun play(dabi), wax play(hawks), public sex(shigaraki)

/masterlist/

pic credit:birf on twitter. follow her, fucking follow her you'll thank me

He will put a gun to your lips, make you loll your tongue out and drool over the barrel, his finger jolting and twitching on the trigger all while his face holds a nerve-wracking smile that you can't figure out.

The truth is, you look so beautiful, your knees sore and red, slightly spread apart on the floor while the small vibrator buzzes against your clit.

He can still see the glimmer of trust behind your eyes, your eyelids hooded and pupils blown wide.

"You're so fucking crazy, you know that?" He comments as his shoe slips between your legs, your sweet juice coating the once dry leather.

You nod, reaching your arms to his pants, clawing at the fabric in attempts to finally get him out of his clothes.

The gun slips out of your mouth, the now wet pipe gliding over your tits in small circling motions, stopping briefly at your hard nipples.

It then goes back under your chin, your eyes meeting Dabi's once he kneeled down to your level, his lips hungrily pushing against yours, his tongue going as far as it can reach, a hum leaving his throat once you feverishly grip at his shirt.

His free hand slips past your slick folds, adjusting the small vibrator before filling you up with his digits.

Fuck...You're too beautiful to be left living...it's a thought that often plays in his mind, but he's selfish, wants you to himself for as long as he's alive.

His fingers expertly find your G-spot, his lips leaving yours as he takes his time looking at you, praising you and waiting for you to finally fall apart after undoubtedly agonizing hours of waiting.

"Lose yourself for me, doll."

And you do. Your orgasm is ripping through your body, your chin being held up only by a shaking gun against skin.

You manage to look at him through your almost closed eyes, his jaw tightened and his chest heaving, his whole arm trembling as you ride out your high.

He places the gun on the floor carefully before pouncing on you, trapping you beneath his arms and the floor, rubbing his clothed length against your damp hole, groaning at the way it seeps through the layers.

"I'm gonna make you wish I pulled that trigger" You smile up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, your mouth ghosting over his ear.

"Please."

pic credit:kawaiitentacles on twitter!

You're shivering under the heat, droplets of hot wax slowly cooling off on your skin, his wings spread open and waiting as the last droplets of melted wax fall over your chest.

Your body convulses at the new wave of pleasurable pain, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.

He chose red...he always does, there's something that makes the setting ever so intimate, like you're slowly becoming his with every pearly stain on your chest.

Your pussy is smeared with drying wax, his fingers made sure your clit was completely covered in it, smearing the now barely warm liquid from your chest down to you puffy nub.

Your tits were a piece of artwork that he was sickeningly proud of, trails of red running down between them and to your belly button, some patterns obviously made by his fingers guiding the wax.

He settles the candle on the bedside table carefully, placing it back on the ceramic plate.

His cock is straining against his boxers, the perfect petal looking trail leading to your hole looks sinfully erotic, red beads all centering to your tortured clit.

You whine under his gaze, bending your legs to your knee, inviting him to slip inbetween. He does, his boxers now long gone as his cock head ghosts between your folds.

He watches the wax crack apart almost unnoticeably, each time he spreads the lips apart with his length.

He finally prods inside your heat, groaning when your legs hook behind his back.

Sometimes you wonder why he refuses to tie you down during these, but if you were to know that it's because he loves to see you jolt and shake, you would clearly tease him for being so sadistic.

Instead his arms pin yours on both sides of your head, plowing deeper in you when his chest presses against yours. It's almost too deep, fitting snuggly against your cervix and still pushing the tight walls wider.

His hips begin to move, his lips latching on your neck as he rocks his body into yours. It's passionate somehow... he can feel the wax brushing against his chest, each roll of his hips sending him even deeper in the crook of your neck.

His low rumbles and moans are so close to your ear, sending your mind into a frenzy. You're so close, so so close, yet you need just a bit more, wriggling your hips you try to find the perfect angle, getting frustrated when it takes you so long with no success.

You fight his hands while he's lost in chasing his own high, your arm freed from his grip with little struggle, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him to look at you.

The angry look on your face made him smirk, his next thrust perfectly hitting that soft patch inside.

"There you go my greedy little bird..." he whispers, moving the hairs away from your cheeks as he cups it into his palm before digging the pads of his fingers into your jaw.

His thrusts sped up, abusing the spot inside you, the clacking sound of your wet pussy filling the room. He was so close, the veins of his cock throbbing and pulsating, the fingers on your jaw tightening.

The build up became too much, headboard banging into the wall, the knot in your belly threatening to snap loose any second. Finally you felt your ears buzzing, hot waves crashing under the surface of your skin, your muscles giving out as you rode the high.

In a blink you were suddenly empty, hot ropes of cum splashing on your chest in continuous spurts, your boyfriend's groans and ruffling of feathers filling your ears.

There's a strained growl that leaves his throat when he lays next to you, his wings falling onto your chest, helping your body to stay warm as you begin to cool down.

He loves you. He can't stop saying it while he holds you to his chest, delaying the clean up just so he can say it as many times as possible.

You'll murder him if he makes you fall asleep like this, so he wills himself into getting up, not exactly agreeing to move away from you. He is picking you up and leading you to the bathroom, sending his feathers to prepare everything so he doesn't have to let go. He won't mind that you're practically asleep in his embrace...leave everything to him, he's got you.

You should've known really....

The famous wanted villain doesn't just ”feel like cinema date”.

You had your hopes up, imaginably high...Dressing up all cute and pretty. Spending hours to get ready and be perfect for your first public date.

You knew the risks, but the thought of enjoying a normal afternoon like a normal couple blinded your eyes.

None of that stopped you from spreading your legs even further apart in your seat, the lace of your panties tugged to the side as long slender fingers rubbed between your fold, smearing your arousal over your pulsing clit.

You were holding your skirt up to your tummy, one of your fists securely gripping your panties as you pushed your hips against his hand.

His intention was to get you worked up, pull you to the bathroom and have his way with you, yet he found himself lost in you muffled moans, your plump lips turning red and bruised as you dug your teeth in them.

It shouldn't matter, you were at the far end of the movie room, a few empty rows separating you and the group of guys that also came to see the film.

His other hand pulled at your chin, separating your lips and sending you a glare.

He didn't want you quiet. He wanted those bastards to turn around, be angered by the fact that a freak like him is having such a messy little slut on his sleeve.

Wetness seeped into the material of the red chairs, making the cloth a few shades darker. Your arms were now wrapped around one of his, hugging it to your chest as low whimpers left your throat.

You were squirming in your seat, making the screws screech with every movement of your hips. The sounds of your slick pussy seemingly at least 10 times louder in your ears.

His digits were now steadily pumping in and out of your warm cavern, never faltering when one of the men fake coughed, adjusting in his seat.

The movie wasn't even halfway through when you felt your high approaching.

The palm of his hand bumped into your clit with each thrust, your concerns pushed to the back of your mind the more his pace picked up.

You were now more than sure that the whole room knew, your slick cunt producing sinful sounds that were impossible to match anything else.

Tomura could feel your nails digging into the muscles of his arm, the wrinkled material of his shirt almost giving out and ripping under your clawing.

He's grinning from ear to ear, yet you can't seem to know why, his efforts doubling as he stares to the side.

You don't have the strength to move or to question his motives when you feel the electric pleasure in your stomach, the muscles there convulsing and flexing as you reach your high.

It comes not as pleasurable as it's embarrassing, the guilt eating at you as soon as you've reached your peak. Coming down from it proved even harder, Tomura’s long still fingers waiting for you to calm yourself before slipping out, cleaning them up on your skirt.

He's pulling you from your seat seconds later, rushing you out the room and out to the hallways.

”What the hell Tomura?” You try to question as you run behind him.

There's that grin again, his eyes squinting and his teeth showing only a bit.

”Cameras, they had cameras” you weren't supposed to be shocked, it's normal and pretty common, you were supposed to be aware of that.

What pisses you off is that grin that still hasn't left his face, making your brows furrow and cheeks puff up.

The nerve.

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[totallysharkycomplete]

Waiting For You Part Four (Ford Pines x Reader) Our Year

Before the twins arrived she helped Stan set up the attic for them. She also made sure there was plenty of food and snacks. Also, she helped make sure the shack was tween proof, and there were no signs of the supernatural or paranormals.

Stan had hired help in the gift shop for the summer, which was new. Besides Soos who had been around for a few years now. He claimed it was because you were both so close to getting Ford back, and the kids would be enough work.

Life wasn’t much different with the twins around, maybe more fun, but not too different. Mabel decided to call her their honorary Grant. The only difference being having to wait until the kids were asleep before she and Stan head down into the basement.

She tried to distance herself at first, allowing time for Stan to bond with his grand niece and nephew. When Stan told her he was going to take the kids fishing she decided to stay home and work. A few days after that there was a loud crash and Soos announced that he had found a random hidden room.

Everything in her started to panic that he had somehow found Ford’s room, but was relieved when she saw it was those creepy wax figures Stan had forgotten about.

“Why are these in here?” Dipper asks.

“They stopped attracting tourists so Stan put them away. Also,” She leans down to Dipper to whisper. “I think they were kinda haunted.” She only half jokes. They had always given her the creeps.

“I thought you didn’t believe in stuff like that.” Dipper quirked an eyebrow.

Stan and her had agreed to play off all the weird stuff in Gravity Falls to try and keep the kids away from it.

“I don’t.” She lies.

---------- When Mabel announces she has been spending time with Gideon she advies her against it. “Mabel, not to be rude, I know he’s only a child, but he’s kind of insane. Also, he’s kind of like your Gunkle Stan's nemesis.”

Mabel ignores her warning. A few days later however she came back to admit she was right.

“Mabel, I know you’re very boy crazy at this age. You’ll quickly learn that if a guy makes you feel uncomfortable or creeps you out you shouldn’t force yourself to be around them.” She offers Mabel a Pitt Cola which she happily accepts.

“He was really nice until he was really creepy.” Mabel sighs.

“Some boys are just like that.” She tells her.

“What about you? You’re so beautiful and nice. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Mabel sits up, excited for an answer.

Her thumb comes up to fidget with the back of her ring. “Well, Mable, I…”

“Oh my gosh!” Mabel jumps up. “Is it because you’re in love with Grunkle Stan?”

She can’t help but laugh, causing Mabel to frown. “I’m sorry, Mabel, but no. I love Stan, yes. But I have absolutely no romantic feeling for him.”

“Don’t worry, by the end of this summer I’ll find you a boyfriend for sure!” Mabel doesn't listen as she protests, and scurries off. ---------- For some reason unbeknownst to her Stan decides to throw a party at the shack. When she asks him a reason all he replies with is, “Money!” Which seems about right to her.

She avoids the party for the most part. Taking the opportunity to sneak into the basement to tighten bolts and detangle wires. It's really all she can do at this point until the other journals are found.

When the party is over Stan makes his way to the basement. “You been down here all night?” She nods. “I could use some help cleaning up from the party.” She agrees to help since there is nothing left for her to do.

She starts throwing cups in the trash can and sweeping up. She unconsciously sighs.

“What’s that for?” Stan asks.

“What’s what for?” She replies.

“The sighing, am I too boring for you?” He jokes.

She stops cleaning and looks at him. “What else can we do, Stan? I feel like I’m just sitting around twiddling my thumbs waiting for something to happen. I’ve spent hours in the woods looking for the journals, hours looking around town, in the shack, but I always come back empty handed. I just don’t know what to do next.”

Stan walks over to her and takes the broom from her hands and sets it to the side, then wraps her in a hug. She hugs him back. “All we can do is keep on living our lives. We’ve done all that we can. I’m not saying we should give up or nothing, but right now we just have to live in the present ya’ know?”

She sniffs. “I know. It’s just so hard to, when it feels like we’re so close.” She put her chin on his chest to look at him.

He smiles. “I know what you mean.” He pauses for a second. “But right now, how ‘bout a dance? Didn’t get one all night.” Stan moves to turn on a slow song, before moving back to her and taking her hands.

She laughs but doesn't argue, laying her head against his chest. They slowly sway to the music.

“This year will be our year, promise.” Stan whispers. ---------- She’s sitting on the dinosaur skull talking to Stan when the twins come barling into the room arguing about having separate rooms. She can’t but smile and wonder if Ford and Stan were like this as kids. Right as Stan is explaining there’s not another room there’s a loud crash and Soos announces, yet again, he’s found a secret room.

Everyone makes their way to go see, and to her dismay she sees it’s Ford’s room. She watches as Stan walks in and grabs Ford’s glasses and tucks them into his sleeve while lying about not knowing what the room was.

She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t even remember experiment 78, and how she had spent the day in Ford’s body before they figured out they could switch back.

She's leaning against the door frame watching as Stan tells the kids he’ll give the room to whoever sucks up to him the most. Even though she’s feeling upset seeing this room for the first time in a year she can’t help but laugh at Stan’s antics.

As the kids are off scrambling to reshackle the roof she sits across from Stan at the table. “Really?”

He smirks. “What? Just a little friendly competition among siblings.”

She lets out a laugh. “Were you and Ford like that?”

Stan looks at her smiling, but frowns a little before pulling a fake smile. “We, uh, we were best friends our whole childhood. As inseparable as kids can get.” He thinks for a second. “Did you ever want to have kids?”

She looks down at the table wistfully. “I did,” she says with a sad kind of smile. “We did,” she corrects herself. “We had talked about having kids once we weren’t so busy with work.

Stan can’t help but feel guilty. Maybe if he had never answered his brother letter her and Ford would be happily married with a family of their own.

“Don’t think like that Stan.” She frowns.

“Like what?” He tries to play dumb.

“I’ve spent almost every moment with you the last thirty years. I can read you like a book, old man.” She smiles at him now and reaches across the table to hold his hand. He grumbles but doesn’t pull away. “You know I love you, Stan. I don’t hold anything that happened against you, I’ve told you before.”

She pulls her hand away as Mabel runs into the room and starts talking to Stan. She gives him a smile before leaving the room.

Later she finds Stan sitting in his arm chair in front of the television. His favorite show is on, but he’s focused on the object in his hands. Ford’s glasses. Silently, she walked to sit on the dinosaur skull beside him and wrap an arm around him. They both look down at the glasses in silence. ---------- At first, she finds Dipper’s Guide to the Unexplained charming. He reminds her a lot of Ford. Charming, until he starts to point the attention to her.

“She’s lived without Grunkle for who knows how long. They aren’t married or romantically involved, yet she wears a wedding ring. Could she actually be the ghost of a lonely widow who died in this house?” Dipper came up with a whole bunch of crazy theories. He followed her around with a camera until she finally had to tell him to stop.

She pulled him aside to talk to him. “Dipper, listen. Your grukle and I are friends, and roommates. We live together because neither of us want to live alone.”

“But your ring.” Dipper begins to ask.

“My ring,” she gives him a sad smile. “Dipper my fiance gave me this ring and he’s… no longer with us.”

Dipper’s face turned white as he began apologizing.

“Dipper it’s alright. I’m sure you’ll find a real mystery in this town if you keep looking.” ---------- A few days later she's reading in her room when Stan calls her and the kids to the living room. “I need you to laugh at this with me!” He motions to the little Gideon commercial on the tv.

Her heart sinks as the commercial shows the Mystery Shack being destroyed by the tent of telepathy.

Dipper asks if they should be worried about that but Stan assures him the only way Gideon could take the shack was if he snuck in and stole the deed. There’s a loud crash and Stan gets up and you follow to find Gideon had actually broken in. Stan ends up chasing him out with a broom but Gideon gives a grave warning about how when he gets the combination to his safe, Stan will never see the Mystery Shack again.

She stops Stan as he locks the safe again. “Is it really safe? Should we move it to the basement?”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “The combination is in my brain, sweetheart. There’s no way he can get it there.”

For a second her mind thinks of Bill, but he’s been gone since Ford disappeared. She decided against mentioning it to him and trusts Stan to know what he’s doing. Unfortunately, she's asleep in her room when Bill invades Stan’s mind and the twins and Soos enter his brain.

While in his brain Mabel opens a door to see Stan slow dancing with their ‘honorary Grant.’ “Are we sure they aren’t in love?” She questions before moving on.

She came into the living room to see everyone cheerful, Dipper had his grunkle in a choke hold, and she smiled. Suddenly there was an explosion knocking everyone backwards. Gideon walked in with the deed in his hands.

Dipper looks confused and says something about Bill. Her heart drops at the thought of the twins having to have had to deal with him.

They flee from the shack and all they can do is watch as a wrecking ball knocks over the sign for the Mystery Shack. ---------- The new living situation was less than ideal. Staying with Soos and his grandmother was only a temporary solution until they got the shack back.

While Gideon held a press conference Stan, the kids, and Soos watched from the front, she tried to sneak in the back. However they were both caught and thrown off the property.

Back at Soos’s house she stood in the kitchen with Stan while he called the twin’s parents. She watched as he blatantly lied to them. He hangs up the phone with a sigh and she walks over and pulls him into a hug.

“What are we going to do, Stan?” She whispers.

“We’ll do what we have to.” ---------- She was right by his side as he explained to the kids that he had to send them home. It broke your heart just as much as his to see how upset they were. She was surprised to hear him say Gideon won before he stormed out, she followed him out the door.

“You didn’t mean all that.” She confronts Stan when she catches up to him. “I know you didn’t. Stan we’re so close.”

“What do you want me to say? What can we even do? We’ve lost the shack, the kids have to go home, and we’ve lost the portal!” He shouts but not loud enough for anyone else to hear.

“We can’t just give up.” She sniffs.

Stan calms himself when he sees she's about to cry, and gives her a hug. ---------- She gives both twins a teary goodbye before boarding the bus. “I love you two. Thank you for making this summer so memorable. I’m sorry it got cut short.” She plants a kiss to each of their heads before they board the bus.

She stands with Stan as they watch their bus drive away.

Back at Soos’s house she scribbles down ideas on how to get the house back, while Stan sits on the couch to wallow in his self pity. He grumbles something about hitting rock bottom and having no friends, no family.

“What am I, chopped liver?” She jokes, biting her pen in thought. He apologizes.

He stares at the Gideon pin in his hand before announcing he knows Gideon's weakness and tells you to hurry up as he runs out the door. ---------- Stan exposes Gideon for the fraud he is. They get the shack back and the twins get to stay. Even better, Stan tells her he’s found journal number two. She can’t stop from crying when he tells her.

Stan checks on the kids while she's checking on the portal. She doesn’t come up all night, until Stan comes down with journal number three.

“Is this real?” She asks in disbelief. “All three? We have all three journals after one day?”

“We have them all.” He confirms and flips them open to the corresponding pages. She watches as Stan examines the pages and presses some buttons, and the portal lights up. “It’s working!” He exclaims. Running towards the portal and she follows.

“Here we go.” ---------- It’s not long until gravity anomalies begin to happen.

“It won’t be long now.” Stan stated.

She smiled wide and nodded. --------- The next day when government vehicles showed up she tried her best to keep her calm. Stan kept his cool and they left.

“I thought this would happen.” She confessed when they’re alone. “The gravity anomalies happened back in the 80’s when we got the portal working but the government was less observant then.”

“Don’t stress it. Soon we'll have Ford back and we won’t have to worry about the government.” Stan grunts.

She tries not to stress but it doesn't really work. She decided to help distract herself by helping Stan set up for the party. They deserved to celebrate getting the shack back. However, she can’t but notice Dipper sneaking off to Stan’s room. She goes to tell Stan right away.

She agrees to keep an eye on the party while Stan goes to check the portal. Everything is going well until the earth starts to shake. It’s not time for this yet, she thinks and checks her watch. Everyone runs off and she makes her way over to stand by Mabel, when Dipper comes running around the corner a hoard of zombies behind him. She orders everyone inside and keeps the zombies away from the kids the best she can without a weapon. They end up trapped in the gift shop and one grabs Dipper. Before she can do anything Stan shows up to save the day. When they are almost safe in the attic Dipper says there’s no way you and his Grunkle Stan can deny the thing that goes on in Gravity Falls anymore.

“Kid, I’ve always known.” Stan confesses. Dipper looks at you and you nod.

“We thought the best way to keep you two safe from it was to deny its existence. We see that was wrong now.” She frowns.

After the whole karaoke ordeal is over Stan has the twins promise not to go looking for problems, Stan lies and promises he has no more hidden secrets. ---------- She stands by Stan as he pours the fuel into the machines.

“Everyday it’s getting stronger.” He comments as his pen, mug, and notebook fly through the portal. She grabs his arm and steps back. Her eyes were wide.

“Haha, yes!” Stan shouts and raises his hand up. A stray metal bar flies up and hits him in the hand.

“This is so dangerous.” She sighs while bandaging his hand.

“I don’t care if it’s dangerous. I don’t care how long it takes. We’re gonna pull this off, and no ones going to get in our way.” He says determined.

She nods, just as determined. ---------- Stan and her work countless late nights. Finally Stan poured the last of the fuel into the machine. “That should be just enough to do the trick.” Just as he says that the timer begins.

The two of them put the final touches on the machine and Stan hits the button. The portal lights up and begins to whir into life.

“Yes! This is it!” His hat began to rise off his head.

She grabs on the nearest desk to keep herself on the ground. In a few seconds gravity returns and she lands back on her feet. “Just eighteen more hours?”

“Eighteen more hours and this will all have been worth it. Stan straps on his watch with a synced up timer. “Finally, everything changes today.”

They share a smile together. ---------- Stan says he’s going to spend the day with the kids, but she refuses to leave the basement. The kids ask where she is and he just says she’s not feeling well so she’s laying down in bed.

She's standing near the portal but at a safe distance. “Just ten more minutes.” She fidgets with her ring. While staring at the portal she doesn’t notice Soos and the kids. They don’t notice her right away either.

She checks her watch. “Two more minutes. Where the hell is Stan?” Looking around she looks back in the control room to see the kids and Soos. “What the hell?”

They walk into the portal room and gasp. “Kids, Soos, you can’t be here. You need to leave now.”

“There! Dipper yells and runs to the override keys.” Before she can run over and stop them, they turn them.

She moves to stand in front of the emergency off switch. “Stop! You don’t understand!” Soos grabs her and holds her to the side. She tries to wiggle away but can’t get out of his grasp. “Stop! Please!” She cries as Dipper almost hits the button.

Stan burts into the room and stops him before he does think. Dipper begins to argue with Stan when gravity fails.

They’re all lifted into the air. She's holding onto the timer as Mabel makes her way to the kill switch. She is frozen in fear, but Stan launches himself forward and convinces Mabel to trust him. There’s a blinding light and a figure steps out of the portal.

“The author of the journals. My brother!”

[spencersawkward]

not to go full fluff central but omg can you write a one shot about matthew hanging out with his kids?? i see him as a girl dad and he would 100% play dress up with them and they would be wrapped around his finger and itd be so sweet it could cause cavities lmao i just want that man to have children so bad

ugh yes i want him to have kids so bad and YES he 100% is a girl dad i definitely agree. this was super interesting to write tbh bc i did it from his perspective but i'm glad i did and i'm glad you asked for it bc we love a saccharine one-shot! also i'm so bad at names for characters i'm sorry lol.

summary: Matthew has a day off with his two daughters!

content warnings: none! literally just fluffy fluff with a side of fluff.

word count: 2.1k

masterlist

when Matthew wakes up to the press of a crayon on his forearm, he nearly startles. his head jerks up to see his daughter, Juniper, trying to draw on him. her hair is neatly braided and the other side of the bed is empty, indicating that his wife has already gotten up.

"good morning, sweetpea." he says to Juniper with a tired smile, wincing when she tries in vain to draw on him. wax on skin doesn't work that way.

"it isn't working, Dad." she pouts. she throws the purple crayon onto the bed and stares at him. she's got dark lashes framing huge, beautiful eyes, and a gap between her front teeth. she pried out the baby tooth a week ago-- seven years old and already determined to take it out herself-- and has been showing it around the house like a trophy.

"maybe we can try with markers after I get up." he suggests. she peers at him with an impatient expression.

"fine." although the word is venomous, she crawls up the bed until she's tucked beneath his arm and he kisses the top of her head. Matthew smiles to himself as he holds her, happy to have the whole day to spend with his kids. he hasn't had a day off in forever.

"should we make breakfast for you and your sister?" he asks cheerfully.

"yes!" she leaps up to stand on the bed, jumps around a little bit on the cushy mattress. "come on!"

"okay, okay," he chuckles, throwing off the covers. "let me brush my teeth first, sweetheart."

"I'm coming with." Juniper is insistent as she follows him. he takes out his toothbrush and toothpaste while she paws through her mother's makeup drawers and skincare. she grabs a bottle of perfume and examines it carefully. "what is this?"

"let's be careful with that." Matthew turns from the mirror, where he can see the rat's nest of hair on his head while he brushes his teeth, and gently puts the glass bottle back on the counter. Juniper crosses her arms.

"what is it?" she repeats. her father finishes up, then lifts her into his arms like she's a sack of potatoes.

"it's your mom's favorite smell." he clarifies. after kissing her little cheek, he walks into the kitchen with Juniper's arms wrapped around his neck. she clings to him like he is everything in the world, and he realizes that this is one of his favorite parts of the day. whenever he holds his daughters, he feels the kind of joy that simply can't be replicated. his heart overflows for them.  

"morning, sleepyhead." Y/N looks up from the counter, where she's biting into a piece of toast and talking excitedly to their other child, Autumn. Matthew grins at the sight of her, so beautiful when she's laughing with her daughter.

"morning." he's smitten.

"I have to go in a minute, but I figured you'd be able to handle a day with them?" she comes over to him and kisses his lips, saying the last part softly. Juniper leans her head on her father's chest, staring at her mother with those enormous eyes.

"with these two devils?" Matthew nods to the girls. "of course."

Y/N shakes her head with a laugh and gives each of her daughter's foreheads before grabbing her purse.

"bye, Mama!" Juniper and Autumn say in unison.

"bye, my angels. I love you very much." she smiles warmly, ruffling Autumn's silky curls before touching Matthew's arm tenderly and heading out of the kitchen. he watches her go, waits for the sound of the lock clicking into place, before he looks conspiratorially between the remaining household.

"who wants pancakes?" he smirks. their ensuing squeals are affirmation enough.  

...

"Dad, can I show you my ballet tutu?" Autumn surprises Matthew by grabbing onto his leg while he's making pancakes. Juniper is standing on a stool beside him, watching and helping to flip the flapjacks.

"nobody wants to see that, Autumn." Juniper scowls impatiently at her younger sister. Matthew turns to his little one and smiles.

"I would love to see your new tutu, sweetheart." he says. Autumn gives the other girl a triumphant look before running off to her room. when Matthew looks at Juniper, she blushes. "be nicer to your sister, Juni." he says gently.

the little scolded creature crosses her arms over her chest and turns her gaze to the pancakes. she knows she's not supposed to be mean, but sometimes Autumn is just so annoying. Matthew can't even pretend to stay mad for long, however, and offers the spatula to her.

"do you wanna flip it?" he smiles.

"yep!" Juniper quickly slides the utensil under the pancake, her father's hand guiding hers to make sure she doesn't accidentally burn herself. she's a smart girl, but she's inherited his lack of coordination (and his nose). they giggle together at the sound of the batter slapping the pan.

"dad, look!" Autumn tugs on the leg of his pants and he glances down to see her wearing a bright pink tutu over her leggings. his jaw drops open in wonderment, tinged with a smile.

"oh my goodness!" he gasps, hoisting her into his arms and burying his face in her curls. "you look just like a princess!"

she giggles. Matthew turns off the stove for a moment to spin her around in his arms before setting her down again and crouching to look at her. "can we see your dance routine after breakfast?"

Autumn nods shyly. he holds her tiny hand in his and kisses the back of it before standing back up. Juniper waits for him on her stool. they get back to cooking, both girls chatting about anything and everything while their father listens intently.

once they set the plates out on the table, Juniper volunteers to distribute forks and knives, and soon they've got a whole spread of golden brown pancakes, whipped cream, and fruit. they heap their dishes with food. the girls have a tendency to take more than they can actually eat, but that's okay. he loves the look of excitement in their eyes when they drizzle syrup over everything.

"nice job, kiddos." he nods, impressed, like they've made the whole meal themselves. both siblings grin back at him proudly. "let's dig in!"

he's hungry. Matthew cracks a couple jokes while they eat, pokes Autumn's stomach when she gets full halfway through her third pancake, and then both he and Juniper watch her do her ballet routine for them. she spins, twirls, smiles as she finishes the dance by throwing both arms into the air like she's won an Olympic gold medal. in his eyes, she has.

even Juniper is supportive and claps with a smile at her sister's achievement. although she teases and can be a bit too harsh with her younger sibling at times, the truth is that she's proud of her. it's evident in the way they play together in the summer, running around beneath the sun while Matthew and his wife sip on glasses of iced tea.  

"brava!" he cheers when she skips back to her seat at the table. "a royal performance!"

"dad, can we have more whipped cream?" Juniper eyes the canister on the table with hungry eyes. he mulls this over for a second, enamored with the fact that she is so clearly his daughter. down to her features and mannerisms, her tendency to crawl onto the couch and watch the scary movies with him that she probably shouldn't be watching at her age. Autumn looks more like her mother, sweet and optimistic. a dreamy expression on her face.

he grabs the canister from the middle of the spread and pops the cap off the top.

"only if you don't tell your mother." he laughs. Juniper shakes her head vehemently like a half promise and opens her mouth as he puts a pile of whipped cream in it. he does it to Autumn next, then himself. they lean back in their chairs, rubbing their bellies with satisfaction.

"yummy." Juniper grins.

"whipped cream is the best topping in the world," Matthew says matter-of-factly, passing down a pearl of knowledge that will stay with them forever. "don't ever let anyone tell you different."

the three of them clean the dishes together, blowing suds all over the room while they listen to Sam Cooke and dance. the house rings with their laughter and the sounds of feet hitting the ground in rhythmic elation, the kitchen their personal concert hall.

if he could only bestow a few life lessons on them, one of them would be the importance of listening to old music.

Matthew wishes that he could spend all his days with them, making breakfast and hearing their crazy ideas. the world is so full and open to them, he sometimes finds himself thinking about how they're going to conquer it. they've got a grittiness to them that they could only get from their mother-- an absolute sureness that stiffens their little spines-- and an imagination that could fill books with stories. he wants to paint for them, do everything for them.

but for today, they head to Autumn's room and play dress-up with the enormous chest of costumes by her bed. should he work on not spoiling her so much? maybe. he doesn't care. she's absolutely adorable when she hauls out princess dresses, doctors' jackets and stethoscopes, other disguises. he thinks she's going to be an actress; she loves to take on different jobs and throw herself into them, walking around the house ordering that her next patient be brought in or for someone to prepare her microscope. her mind is full of ideas.

Juniper pretends to be disinterested in dressing up, but she gives up the act once Autumn hands her a tiara to wear and pours her imaginary tea.

"what flavor is this?" Matthew takes a sip from his miniature cup, fanning his mouth like it's hot. "it's divine."

"it's normal tea, you cuckoo bird." Autumn giggles. she sets the teapot down on the plastic table.

"I'm a cuckoo bird?" he pretends to be offended. "you're a cuckoo bird!"

"no I'm not!" Autumn protests, but Matthew is already wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his lap. he tickles her sides.

"you're the cuckoo bird!" he repeats through her fits of laughter. she squeals and kicks with joy until he sets her back on her feet.

"your hair is crazy." Juniper scolds. Matthew sighs and runs a hand through the unruly curls. they always tease him about it, and somehow it never gets old.

"probably because this one messed it up with her claws." he pokes Autumn's side and he suppresses a gleeful smile.

"Dad, you need a tiara, too." Juniper points to the empty spot on his head. "Autumn, get him one."

the younger sister looks like she's going to defy her sister's bossy demand, but decides against it and runs off to grab another bejeweled piece to place on her father's head. it's comical, the way the tiny thing sits.

"thank you, sweetpea." he smiles at his youngest, pinching her cheek before glancing between the two of them seriously. "how do I look?"

"silly." Juniper giggles. she straightens it out on his head and he wrinkles his nose.

"hey! boys can wear tiaras, too," he defends with mock attitude. "now, can I have more tea, please? I finished mine already."

"of course." Autumn stands diplomatically and pours him a new cup while they pretend to snack on baked goods. Matthew tells them about the new movie he's directing, dipping into his storyteller voice and wiggling his fingers with every mention of a spooky plot point. the girls sit at rapt attention, hanging on his every word, despite the fact that he's got a miniature tiara on his head.

they adore him, and every second he's there, they revel in it. they love their mother, too, of course. but days with their dad are just... different. he lets them eat whipped cream by themselves and tells them stories, kisses their foreheads and dances in the kitchen with them. they always have fun together, no matter how dreary the day is. and those feelings won't change as they get older; he's their rock, their security. he always will be.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Where they take you on vacation - 7 Brothers + Diavolo

Found out the edits are made by @devilgram​ who has such a beautiful blog and posts so many Obey Me! things that are so cool! You did a great job with all the edits! <3

LUCIFER

Lucifer would like to take you to Romania, mostly because of all the stories of the great Wallachian ruler Vlad Tepes/The Impaler and wants to find out more about his ruthless yet effective methods of insuring no crime happens in his country ( and hopes they will work on his brothers too ).

Apart from the gorgeous landscapes from the mountainside, the possibility to go to the seaside, or see the different types of regional architecture ( like the unique Black Church ) from different cities, he’d also like to get a full experience of the language, the music, the traditions ( customs, clothes, foo ) and feel for a day like a native from the old ages. 

Even more, he’d find it very nice if you were to try out one of the traditional outfits, and would take a picture of you at the mountains, on a nice field, and put the developed picture in his coat, looking at it whenever he is working and misses you.

He can get pretty salty about the fact that there are still people who believe the Bran castle is Dracula’s true castle, instead of the Poienari fortress and wouldn’t hesitate to express his displeasure, but would appreciate the castle and everything displayed there nonetheless.

Also, would be the first to go to the Horror house, holding your hand if you get scared, and would feel incredibly proud that you trust him and feel safe around him, but would get such a kick out of using his demon form while at it, to scare the actors there.

His whole aesthetic draws people near as if they would actually approach a vampire royalty, which allows him to puff his chest out in pride, so hey, you’re dating a vampire now!

Would take you out at the fanciest restaurant, just to feel how the life at this place is.

Would love to take long walks on the beach at the sea, your feet in the water, holding hands, and just admiring the moon and stars while waves are your music.

You’d mostly stay silent and enjoy the atmosphere, but sometimes you talk a few words, and that’s when Lucifer is the most relaxed, calm and tender.

He would saying that he loves you with such ease for the first time in so long, and the kiss on your forehead would be so soft that it brings you more butterflies than any kiss ever could.

Lucifer looks so ethereal in the light of the moon, it’s almost like he’s glowing, and when you tell him, he’d actually blush softly, before chuckling and stroking your hair, not denying, nor agreeing with your statement.

---

Mammon

Mammon loves to spend money and grab it, so what better place than Las Vegas?

He’d love for the two of you to dress super fancy and flashy, in matching colours if possible, go gambling, scam people and experience the luxury night lifestyle, go to clubs, loud music and expensive alcohol and all that.

But Mammon isn’t all about the flashy and exciting night time, instead, he would mostly love to just see the world with you by his side, and his goals is to make you happy, to he does everything he can to go sightseeing with you and reads in advance about whatever places you could visit and tells you some fun trivia about the place, he’s treating you to the fanciest food and drink places, and would spoil you rotten when going shopping, loving to see you do a little catwalk for him every time you get out of the changing booth.

He’d definitely insist on buying super cute animal Pyjamas.

He’s a huuuuuge fan of the “His Queen/Her King” trope and loves showing you off as much as possible, so get matching Tshirts or jackets and he would be SOOO proud and would laugh confidently and proud all the time, his arm around you, saying how cool you two are together and all that.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he honestly doesn’t believe he’s good enough for you, but when he sees how your dazzling smile is always directed to him and you cling on his arm whenever you watch the Lights Show on the big buildings, see the beautiful fireworks or watch the impressive singing fountain...Well, he can’t help but blush and kiss your forehead, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

He’s the kind of guy who would spam his DevilGram with either couple pictures in different places you visit, or just cute pics of you or you two messing around, and his account is actually very popular for the #CoupleGoalz trend.

At night, he would like to either cuddle with you and watch a movie, or go drive through the city at night, watch the night lights, and go on a cliff, stargazing and chatting openly about everything, because honestly, this guy is always dismissed and insulted by his brothers, it’s always a relief and a fresh air when he can be himself and just...Talk with someone. 

---

Leviathan

Levi is the biggest weeb in the world, so the first place you’d visit together is Japan.

Anime conventions, wearing cute kimonos while going to festivals or roaming the streets of Kyoto or Akihabara, couple cosplay (Henry and the Lord of Shadows), buying merch of your favourite anime/manga/game, going to Vocaloid concerts, buying the newest Ruri-chan figurines, trying out new video games that just came out and so on.

Actually wants to go to a Pokemon cafe and fangirls SO much about all the cute pokemon themes there.

He would get you all the cutest Pokemon plushies, especially if you’re not all that into Pokemon but want to share that interest with him, so expect a Skitty, Vulpix, Shaymin, Eevee and all its Eeveelutions, Milotic plushie, while he would already be collecting plushies for the rarest Pokemons, but he’s incredibly happy that you want to do this with him.

He also gets an Ekans just for the Lolz and let’s out his tail, mostly for troll purposes, but it makes you laugh and he could swear his heart stopped beating and his cheeks were redder than ever.

He secretly got you a maid outfit and would love to see you wearing it, but he’s too embarrassed to actually say.

He would blush SO much seeing you in a kimono with a nice hair pin and a fan, while going to see the Sakura trees blossoming and you look like the Sengoku type of heroines from the dating sims he plays so much (to get experience and not fuck up with you), but somehow, you’re so much beautiful than any CG he’s every seen, no matter how gorgeous the art is.

He would get lots of packs of Pocky and despite not saying it out loud, would put a pocky in his mouth and you’d get the hint and munch on the other end of the pocky, in the end kissing him softly.

Levi.exe stopped working.

He would love taking pics of you alone, because you’re so beautiful, and would edit them to look as ethereal as possible, if you want, to even have fantastic backgrounds, and would take pride in how popular your DevilGram/InstaGram is.

He also changed his Lockscreen to have you with your hand in a half-heart gesture, while yours has him with the other half, so whenever he looks at the clock, or sees a new notif, he sees you smiling, with a cute kitten filter.

His Wallpaper is the two of you kissing, edited with a few hearts, sparkles and a little “I love you” written in cursive in a corner (you edited the pic and suggested you both use it, but he denied, so you changed it yourself for him too, while he was busy gaming, and he liked it so much that he couldn’t change it back to Ruri-chan.)

---

Satan

Satan would choose England first for so many reasons!

He’s such a perfect gentleman and seeing everyone so polite and chivalrous there makes his heart bloom and would up his gentleman shills even more, wanting to impress you and make your heart skip with everything he does.

Loves to take you to different castles, see in real life everything he read in books and saw in movies or TV series, and he’s so mesmerised by the beauty of everything that he forgets he promised to be your guide, but his bright smile and the way his eyes sparkle in curiosity and glee make up for everything.

Besides, he’d definitely go back to you and explain in very precise detail the reason for his fangirling.

He’s a little nerd so bookstore dates are a huge YES, and more - CAT CAFES where you can read at your heart’s content. HUGE YES.

You’d both get our of there with tons of books that you will read together, cuddled up under the blankets while enjoying an aromatic tea that Satan prepared for you, together with some nice scones.

He’d want to go with you to Shakespeare’s grave, Dicken’s house, would like to see anything involving the Romantics and so on, since he’s in love with British literature.

Satan wants to go see the Harry Potter theme park so much, and would buy tons of merch for the two of you, and wants to go in full Hogwarts robes and wand with you.

Would take a gazillion pics of you together, that only you can see since it may ruin his reputation with his brothers for geeking out, but he’d love it if the universe was actually real.

He’d also take you to King’s Cross to take pic near the wall where you get to the 9 3/4 Platform.

And no trip to England could exist without a visit to Sherlock’s house, pretending to be detectives, and at Madam Tussaud’s Wax Museum to admire all the figures and potentially take troll pics with them.

---

Asmodeus

Asmo wastes no time in taking you to Paris, of course!

And the first thing you do is have a coffee at the restaurant located on top of the Eiffel Tower.

He would, throughout all the trip, take tons of selfies EVERYWHERE, and aeshtetic pics of either you alone, him alone, or together.

He’s a Devilgram and Devilr celebrity, after all!

Loves going to all the little cafes and drink a hot beverage with you while looking and judging all the passer-bys, how they would never compare to how beautiful and fashionable you two are.

He takes you to the Versailles Palace while wearing the most glamorous outfits, and despite all the pics taken, he will tell you stories of when he visited the place long ago, and more, will tell you of the paintings displayed, since he’s rather knowledgeable.

Asmodeus will take you everywhere, but first, the Lafayette Galleries, all while streaming every second there, to shop everyone how amazing the place is.

Would pics the both of you sooo many pretty brand clothes, new skin care routine and make up products, that you almost wonder where he has all the money from, especially to pay someone to carry them back to your place.

Would take you to a lingerie shop where he’d make you try on all the cutest outfits and would buy them all, especially because he thinks they will make you more confident and wants to make sure you never thing bad of yourself, because if you’re dating him, then you’re obviously the most beautiful being he’s ever seen, inside and out. (he doesn’t count here, of course)

His wallpaper is a selfie of you two smiling and making a peace sign, from the top of the Eiffel Tower, seeing all Paris in the background, at evening, with the beautiful sky and the night lights all over.

Would take you on a cruise on Seine, serenading and drinking a glass of bubbly champagne, admiring all the buildings and the happy people sitting on the banks of the River, enjoying the scenery.

And of course, there’s no perfect trip to the City of  Love without some very tender and sensual love-making, with so many compliments, praises, soft touches and gentle kisses from Asmodeus, followed by a relaxing bath with milk, honey and rose petals, scented candles, bubbles and ambiental music, and of course, a lot of cuddling all night long.

---

Beelzebub

Beelzebub would want to go to Italy, since it’s the country with the best human food, and what better place to eat it them its home country?

Would actually love to go sightseeing with you and seeing all the pretty stuff there is.

He appreciates the architecture, statues and paintings of every historical place, loves to find out more about the country’s history and traditions and would like to take scenic pictures of all the places you visit...

And make a couple album where he puts pics with either you alone or together.

It’s his most treasured possession and nobody except Belphie knows about it, and while he is happy that his brother is happy, he would say it’s so cheesy.

Would have fun when doing the classic “Pushing the Pisa Tower” picture, would like to sing when you go on a Gondola ride in Venice, and pretend to be a gladiator at the Colosseum, while you’re his Caesar.

If you get him a necklace or a keychain, he’d never take it off and has it as his lucky charm, kissing it whenever he misses you or wants the day to go good.

After he understands how the food is made, he’d want to make it himself, so you cooking together would be so cute and fun, and the way you see the love and tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you laughing, while your face is covered in flour...

He’s such a precious and soft baby, and he loves you so much.

Also, he’d love to carry you around just for fun and because he loves holding you close to him, so either bridal style on on his shoulder, you say it, and he’s gonna do it.

Will also like to take lots of short videos with you two, just fooling around, giggling, laughing, making jokes, kissing, pretending to be kittens, having flour fights and all that, since they’re beautiful memories and whenever he’s sad, he watches them and he forgets the reason he was sad in the first place.

---

Belphegor

Belphegor would take you to New Zealand, because he saw how beautiful and green the landscape were, thanks to the Lord of the Rings movies, so he wanted to see what would be like stargazing on such a flowery field, or sleeping in a Hobbit hole.

He’s pretty sleepy all the time, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t take you to see the big cities as well, eat out, shop for souvenirs and so on, but his heart is taken by the simplicity and peace the countryside and forests hold.

Belphie would actually like to have his head on your lap as you stay at the bottom of a tree and read, much like Froddo Baggings would, waiting for Gandalf.

It’s a guilty pleasure of his, but he wants to see ‘Gandalf’s’ fireworks, and when a festival like that happens, he’d hold your hand tight, having a soft smile on his face and a tender look in his eyes.

Despite not saying it very often, he will confess his love for you.

It’s barely above a whispers, but it’s genuine.

It’s simple, small, but meaningful and beautiful nonetheless.

As you stargaze on the field, he’d tell you the names of all stars and constellations that you can see, and would tell you some trivia he knows about them.

Would take a few pics here and there, but his favourite one is one where you two are on the ground outside, both your heads on his favourite pillow, while looking at each other, both of you having such genuine and pure love in your expressions.

If he ever wakes up earlier than you, and likes to troll a bit, he’d get his tail out and tickle your noes, smirking at how cute your half-asleep reactions were, but would play innocent when you ask about it, only kissing your nose to make you forget and reassure you that it was only a dream (it wasn’t).

---

Diavolo

Diavolo is so easily excitable, despite his age and title for the next Devil Lord, but honestly, he wants to take you to Iceland to see the Northern Lights that you spoke so fondly about.

There are so many pretty things to see in the Devildom alright, but none of them quite as fascinating to him as how the sky lights up with so many different and beautiful shades of green, blue and pink, it’s almost unreal!

Who would have thought that the Human world could hold such natural wonders?

He could have sword you were a witch or something, and just wanted to impress him with your magic, as if charming him wasn’t enough, but this beauty makes him behave even more like a child, leaving him speechless and breathless.

Diavolo would kiss and hug you, spinning your around so many times, if you allow him, you forgot to count, which is his way of thanking you for showing him this place and he’s honestly just so happy that he can share this precious moment together with you.

You tell him some old stories about how they say the ancestors’ souls watch over everyone from up there, and that even the animals who died have their souls there, living in peace and quiet.

Despite knowing it’s obviously not true, the tales humans come up with are so creative and make so much sense to their beliefs, he’s genuinely fascinated by all these old stories and would like for you to tell him more.

Iceland’s landscapes are also to be taken into account, and Diavolo will take thousands of pics of you literally everywhere, just because you’re so cute and he’s so damn happy and wants many memories together.

Would like for you to take a selfie with his phone, while at the Northern Lights, and would make Lucifer frame it so he can have it on his desk whenever he’s working, and whenever he gets bored, tired, or just misses you, he’d gaze fondly at the picture and would occasionally kiss it.

[hanjizung]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣  𝕕𝕒𝕪  𝟙𝟠:  𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟.

Hyunjin x Reader.

Word count: 1.4k

♡ Warnings ♡: Smut, virgin!Reader, masturbation (f), established relationship.  

【ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ　ｄａｙ　||　ｎｅｘｔ　ｄａｙ】

【Ｋｉｎｋｔｏｂｅｒ　ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

It was a beautiful evening with nice weather when you finally decided to advance a step in your relationship with Hyunjin.

You had yet to talk to him about it, but you’ve been thinking about if you’re ready to get more intimate with him or not, but you knew you were. You loved everything there was to love about him, how he treated you, his little scenes when he decided to be dramatic, his looks…

You and him have been dating for a while, almost 8 months that have been completely wonderful where you got to know what you hoped was almost everything that he liked or disliked, his routines and other trivial stuff. You were satisfied with how well you got along.

The only things that you hadn’t tried was because you were afraid. Afraid of pain, afraid of all the things that could happen.

But Hyunjin was your first serious relationship, all the ones you’ve had before never lasted more than 4 months, because you used to date garbage men.

That was until Hyunjin came into your life and suddenly you visualize the world in a pink filter when you’re with him, absolutely whipped for him.

You waited for him to arrive at your department. Yoh prepared for him all the day before today to make sure he wouldn’t be disgusted with your bare form, waxing and erasing all the imperfections you saw anywhere on your body.

The doorbell rang and you stood up quickly, walking excitedly to open the front door. There he stood shining in all his glory. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, right in front of you holding a bouquet of roses in both of his hands and smiling like a dumb when you opened the door.

“Jinnie!” you giggled like a schoolgirl, throwing yourself at his arms. He was quick enough to move the bouquet from between you two to wrap both of his arms around you. You clung to him, making him chuckle and he carried you through the door frame, closing the door behind you.

“I missed you too, baby” he said, letting you touch the floor and bending down to kiss your forehead. Your cheek flushed when he did that. It was such an innocent action that carried so much love, you adored when he did that to you, it always made you feel protected just like when you were in his arms.

“Here, I got this for you. I saw them and thought that the most beautiful woman should have these beautiful flowers, their beauty reminded me of you” he gave you the flowers. You almost teared up at his words, he always knew what to say to make your heart flutter and made you realize that you were the luckiest person to be able to be with someone like him.

You took the bouquet from his big hands and placed them with the ones he had given you a few days ago.

“Thank you, Jinnie. I also have a surprise for you” you turned to look at him, he had an arched eyebrow, ready to hear what your surprise was.

You took his hand and guided him to your bedroom, turning on the light and sitting on the side of the bed you liked to sleep the most. He sat in front of you, waiting for you to reveal your big surprise.

But you didn’t know what to say, your smile too big on your face. You opted to show him the item you had bought the day before.

“Close your eyes first, please” he did, his eyelids tightly shut, a smile that you contagie him with on his face. It went away when you placed the unfamiliar thing that was supposed to be his surprise on his hands.

“You can open them now” you murmured. He did, eyeing the box on his hands and reading what it was. You decided to explain why you were showing this.

“Hyunjin, I’m ready. I love you so much, I want you to be the one” you said. He looked at you with adoring eyes and moved closer to you. You thought he was going to hug you, but he placed the box on the nightstand and took your hand. You looked at him with worry in your eyes.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, tone soft. You nodded, moving to the middle of the bed and gesturing for him to crawl closer to you.

He did, towering over you and kissing you sweetly, his hands roaming all 9ver your body to your legs, separating them and positioning himself between them. He looked at you again to confirm that you were okay doing all of this, getting another nod from you and he pulled your skirt and underwear down your legs, groaning when he saw your most sensitive part.

You looked away, feeling strange being all this exposed to him, but a hand on your chin made you look straight at Hyunjin’s lusty eyes.

“Don’t be shy, baby. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you’re beautiful” he leaned to kiss you, his hands resting on your knees before he pulled them apart, exposing your pussy to him.

You were lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous. You’ve never gotten this close to anyone else, making love was a pure act of trust and you wanted to do it with the right person. Luckily, you found Hyunjin and felt prepared to give yourself to him, you loved him that much.

Hyunjin passes his finger through your slit, making you gasp in surprise at the touch. He separated your folds and pressed your clit gently, making you gasp again. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, his other hand taking out his cock and stroking himself, you biting your lip at the sight of his pretty cock.

Moving so you could take off your shirt and then your bra in a moment of confidence, Hyunjin looking up to admire your exposed breasts and grunting again, pumping himself with more effort when he checked your erected nipples.

You realized he was staring too much at them, and decided to play with your boobs, pinching and squeezing your nipples to hear the beautiful noises of pleasure he got when he jerked himself just by looking at you.

One of his fingers teased at your entrance and you froze, looking at him with a little fear in your eyes, he collected your wetness and removed his hand from your core, licking his fingers and ready to enter you.

He inserted one, making you gasp again at the sudden feeling of intrusion inside you. It was weird, having something you weren’t familiar with inside you was strange and a bit uncomfortable but not at all.

Hyunjin’s moan brought you back to reality.

“Fucj, baby, you’re so tight” he said, moving his finger inside you and making you moan as well. His eyes were concentrated where he was connected with you, looking at his digit disappear in you. He looked beautiful like this, he seemed like he was enjoying making you feel good.

“AH! Hyunjin, right there!” you screamed when he hit a particular spot inside you. You squirmed when he hit it again, bucking your hips to feel him so deeper. The feeling of intrusion changing to one of pleasure, an unknown sensation in your stomach becoming stronger and stronger as Hyunjin worked his magic fingers, until you couldn’t take it anymore and before you knew it your whole body was shaking when a wave of pleasure washed over you and your walls tightened even more at Hyunjin’s middle finger.

Hyunjin moaned, still thrusting you over your orgasm and moving the hand wrapped around his cock faster, a white liquid spurring out of him a few moments after your orgasm.

You calmed down, looking at your beloved boyfriend with tired eyes.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, removing his fingers from you and licking it clean.

“I’m fine… That… felt amazing” you said, blinking when you finished your sentence to confirm that this had been real and not a dream.

“Do you want to continue, princess? Do you need anything before we do anything else?” his worried tone made you smile, he cared so much for you and it showed in the way he was treating you.

“I’m okay, Jinnie. We can continue, I’m dying to know how you will feel inside me” you sighed, your gaze fixed on his cock. Hyunjin’s expression changed drastically, not that you would know since you weren’t looking at him, but he was ready to make you scream his name.

“You’ll find out soon enough baby, are you ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

[xxbyimm]

Lovers - Fíli x reader

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HAPPY BELATED FÍLI FRIDAY MY LOVES!! I’ve been walking around with this smutty idea for months... I do hope y’all enjoy. xoxo

Lovers - Fíli x reader

Summary: Fíli makes love to you. 

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ fic. If you are not 18, I prefer you not read this. Be warned.

Taglist: @soradragon​ @pistachiozombie​ @legolaslovely​ @tomisbaeholland​ @saviorsong​ @swoopswishsward​ @fizzyxcustard​ @deepestfirefun​ @ruthoakenshield​ @mariannetora​ Furthermore: @sage-willow-raven​ and @daydreamer-in-training​ were ready for some naughty Fíli, so I’m giving you lovelies a tag! If you don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on!

The small garret was covered in darkness. The last candles already burned out hours ago, leaving the vague trace of burned wax hanging in the air. Outside the silence reigned, though if you listened closely you could hear distant moans coming from the guestrooms on the floor below. The icy frost had crept through the cracks of the window frame into the small space of the attic, but below the coverlet it was pleasingly warm.

Something smooth moved against his groin, stirring the golden lion in his sleep. He heaved a drowsy sigh, his peaceful dreams turning into something more wicked. Scenes of a young prince playing with his peers gradually morphed into a matured version of him, this time fooling around with you. His body tingled as it remembered the events that had taken place last night.

Especially the way you had felt fucking fantastic around him.

Fíli, the prince of Durin’s folk, awoke. Though he couldn’t have slept more than a few hours, he felt well rested. He groaned softly when you moved in your sleep, pressing your perfectly round bum against him once more. Mahal! He now was definitely awake. You on the other hand, were clearly not aware of your own actions. Your breathing still sounded heavy and your thoughts seemed far, far away.

It didn’t matter though. Dawn must be nearing and he reckoned it wouldn’t take long for the sun to creep into the room to wake you and your pretty physique up from your slumber. And if it didn’t, he’d find a way. By now he knew your curves like the back of his own hand and there were plenty of pleasant options that would have you wake up in an instant.

Fíli smirked, his thoughts shifting to last night. It had begun as it usually did. He had entered the tavern and retreated to his usual spot in the back. From there, he had admired the excellent view as he watched you work. Because your father always kept a watchful eye you didn’t dare to give your favorite patron more attention than the other customers, but when the old goat wasn’t looking lustful glances were thrown across the place. On some occasions you even dared to stop for some polite, small talk when you served the golden prince his ale.

Over the past few months, the more Fíli had watched you and your father interact the lesser he thought of the man. While you were as sweet and innocent as an angel, your father was the complete opposite. He was a harsh guy, a cunning and vile kind who cared more for coin than his own flesh and blood. Once, the prince had heard him complain about how his wife had left him with a worthless daughter who no one wanted, instead of a real heir. The guy didn’t deserve you or the hard work you put yourself through every day, but you wouldn’t hear of it.

So because Fíli couldn’t steal you away from this awful place, he tried to settle with the pleasant knowledge that the bastard was oblivious of the fact that the two of you were far much more acquainted than you were letting on.

For the last few months, Fíli had developed the habit of climbing to the roof after the tavern had closed for the night and slipping through your slightly opened window. You were always there waiting, welcoming the prince in your bed. He had lost count of the times he had made love to you on that old mattress that creaked with every move the two of you made, but he had not forgotten that one moment when you had told him you loved him. At the time he was so taken aback by the sincerity of it that he had murmured something incomprehensive in return, but he had wrecked his brain to find a way to make it up to you ever since.

Truth was, he loved you as much as you loved him, maybe even more. He adored your pretty features, the way you laughed. Though others underestimated you because of your sweet demeanor and small height, Fíli knew that you could be quick as a whip and as sharp as one of his favorite knives. You had a beautiful, bright mind and he could listen for hours to you voicing your thoughts out loud. You were everything he had ever wanted in a woman, but the one chance he had of telling you that, he ruined beyond measure.

‘Fíli…’ you mumbled in your sleep. The prince smiled softly and placed a kiss behind your ear. ‘I’m sorry.’ He confided in you. ‘I don’t mean to be such a… jerk. You just took me by surprise, that’s all…’ You muttered something under your breath, but it was far too soft for Fíli to understand. Nonetheless, the prince perched himself up on his elbow to have better look. Your H/C locks were draped over the pillow, tickling the prince’s arm. Your lips were slightly pouted and the expression on your face was one of utter bliss. The prince could watch you for hours… Had he ever seen someone this beautiful?

Fíli could not resist it. He slowly slid down below the covers, placing delicate kisses down your spine as he went. You sighed, but did not move and the prince smiled against your S/C toned skin. He then continued on his journey south, caressing your lovely ass before he gently nudged you on your back. Your legs parted on their own and the golden lion settled in between them, momentarily admiring his excellent view. His eyes traveled over your core towards your abdomen, the swelling of your breasts and finally your face. You were everything all at once: innocent and endearing, but also a bit wicked and intoxicating as fuck. And you were all his…

The prince bowed down, barely pausing before he lazily dragged his tongue over you. ‘Oh!’ you breathed and Fíli grinned. Then, you quickly succumbed to your silent slumber again. No matter, he hadn’t expected you to wake up just like that, nor did he want you to. There was still plenty of time…

A soft kiss landed on your inner thigh and another one followed closer to your center. With his thumbs, the prince caressed the smooth skin of your thighs before pushing them further apart. You murmured something incomprehensible in return and Fíli glanced up at your sweet face.

Still asleep.

His breath fanned over your core and the golden lion licked his lips. Then he moved down, pressing a light kiss on your core before flicking his tongue over your clitoris with light, teasing strokes.

You reacted with a louder moan now. Fíli groaned against your core and shuffled between your legs to make room for his growing desire. He then moved slightly down, kissing your folds and drawing his mustache braids over you on purpose. It earned him a sharp hiss.

You probably would be embarrassed if he’d ever tell, but your scent was so… You were intoxicating till the point Fíli didn’t know if he could contain himself. If it was his choice to make, the prince would stay between your thighs forever.

Gently, Fíli parted your folds. His tongue dragged all over you in long, slow laps before he stopped at your sensitive nub and sucked on it. With a loud cry, you shot up.

The prince looked up, his blue eyes roaming freely over your body. A sharp jolt went through his abdomen as he watched you in all of your delicious glory. Your voluptuous breasts were begging to be touched, just like the already hardened nipples needed to be enclosed by the warmth of his mouth and the delicate curves of your neck deserved his undivided attention.

Though your body seemed ready for another round of sweet lovemaking, your mind was a bit hazy. Your breath was coming short pants and your eyes still seemed a little far away. ‘Fíli?’ you panted, your fingers reaching out to caress his long, golden manes. ‘What are you…’ ‘Y/N.’ he replied huskily and he couldn’t help grinning foolishly when he saw a blush creeping up your cheeks. ‘Oh, Fíli!’ you stuttered, throwing your head backwards as he still continued teasing you. Your fingers raked through his hair. ‘OH!’

The prince growled against you in return. His tongue stroked your clit in short, intense laps now. Your body started to arch up against him, silently begging for more. His fingers delved into the delicious curves of your thighs. ‘I- I- Ah!’ you breathed. ‘Fíli…’

He knew what you wanted and you wouldn’t have to ask twice. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t antagonize you just a bit more, though. So with the tip of his tongue, he continued dancing around your sensitive nub. It had you writhing above him. ‘Are you sure, love?’ he then purred. ‘Y-Yes.’ You gulped. ‘Please.’

Fíli kissed you one last time before trailing his way upwards. You eased yourself on the creaking mattress again and watched your lover through your lashes. The prince took his sweet time, leaving fond kisses on your stomach and giving both of your nipples a long, hard suck before claiming your mouth.

His lips were hungrily taking in all of you, your passionate moans and sighs spurring him further on. Your hands traveled over the prince’s flat abdomen, following the dark line of hairs towards his groin. Your fingers closed around his shaft and you started pumping up and down his length, earning a strangled groan.

But you were an impatient lass and Fíli chuckled darkly when you moved your hips against him before guiding him towards your entrance. How could he not oblige to your demands? He sank down into you with ease, watching you biting your bottom lip. A rosy color rose on your cheeks. ‘Fí-Fíli…’ you mumbled feverishly, your legs wrapping around him. ‘Love.’ He breathed. ‘I-’

Whatever he had wanted to say got lost as you surged forward and captured him a demanding kiss. The prince started to grind his hips against yours. The bed creaked loudly in rhythm with your joined moves, but neither of you seemed to notice, nor to care. ‘Oh, fuck.’ You moaned, your hips rising to meet his with every thrust. ‘Yes!’

Fíli picked up the pace, pounding harder into you. You were moaning out loud now, fingernails clinging into his back and your legs holding him like a vice. ‘Ah!’ he cried out when he felt your teeth sinking in the skin of his neck. ‘You little vixen!’ A giggle escaped you. ‘Doesn’t that please you, my prince?’ He growled. ‘Very.’ ‘Good.’ You purred, your eyes burning with pure want. ‘I want them to know you’re mine.’ Fíli rose from your embrace and guided your legs over his shoulder. He placed a kiss on your ankle and you mewled.

The two of you were so caught up into each other, that you didn’t notice someone bustling about on the floor below yours. ‘Y/N?!’ your father suddenly called up the stairs. ‘Is that you?’

‘Fuck!’ You hissed. Your eyes widened and you shoved your lover aside before jumping from the bed. A little fazed from the sudden interruption, Fíli sat unmoved. He watched you scrambling your clothes together and hastily putting them on. ‘Quick!’ you urged your prince when you saw he was merely gazing at you. ‘Get your clothes!’

‘Y/N?’ your father asked, a little louder now. The stairs creaked as the man ascended the steps towards the attic.

Fíli jumped up and caught his tunic that you threw his way, followed by his breeches. The prince shoved his feet in his boots and grabbed his coat. He was just about to steal a goodbye kiss, when the door opened.

‘Father!’ you cried out, blushing heavily. ‘This isn’t what it looks like, I-’ The old man’s face was riddled with anger and he eyed the dwarven prince with malice. ‘I knew something was going on, you filthy wench!’ He boomed and you quickly lowered your head. ‘At least you have the audacity to feel ashamed.’

His fist landed on your cheek. The impact of the force so heavy that you lost your balance and jerked backwards, but luckily Fíli reacted just in time to catch you. The prince pushed you behind him before giving your father a terrifying glare. ‘Stand behind me.’ He growled. ‘I will not let this coward manhandle you another time!’ ‘But I-’ you protested, tears streaming down your face. ‘Please don’t hurt him, I-’

Both males ignored your pleas. ‘So you’re the one who is defiling my daughter, dwarf.’ The old goat spat. ‘How long will it take before her belly is heavy from your filthy spawn?’

Your hand sought Fíli’s, but the prince pushed it away and clenched his hands into fists. Though your dad was a tall, broad guy, the golden lion didn’t feel threatened. Years of training by uncle Thorin and Dwalin had taught him well. He could take him.

Fíli’s chest was heaving mechanically as he kept his eyes on the prize. His body tensed, ready to act when called for. Blood roared in his ears.

‘Well?’ your father demanded. ‘Dad, I am-’ you began, but you swallowed the rest of your sentence when your father sent you a deadly glare. ‘If you turn out to be pregnant, I will kill the filthy half breed with my bare hands.’ He vowed, spitting on the ground.

That was it. Fíli surged forward. The first blow landed on the innkeeper’s temple, the second one on his jaw. Your father howled and stumbled backwards. Next, Fíli’s fist punched into his opponent’s chest and belly. After receiving another blow to the chest, your father fell on the floor. Anger pulsed through his blood and the prince moved forward to-

‘Fíli!’ you screeched, gripping the prince by his shoulder. ‘Please, stop!’ He clenched his jaw. Though there this was not nearly enough hurt for all the bad things your father had put you through, the prince knew it was not worth it. Thus, he took a step back. ‘Y/N.’ he rasped. ‘Let’s go.’ You shook your head violently and rushed to your father’s side. ‘I can’t. Father, are you okay?’ Your father watched you with an expression of pure hatred displayed on his face. ‘You are no daughter of mine.’ He hissed as he slapped your hands away. ‘But…’ you began. ‘OUT!’ The innkeeper screamed at you. ‘GET OUT AND NEVER COME BACK!’

After rushing down the flights of stairs, through the empty tavern and into the streets of the town, you both ran until you were out of breath. Fíli then grabbed your hand and pulled you into a small alley.

‘Y/N…’ he grinned. ‘What?!’ you huffed, looking absolutely ridiculous with one boot still in your hand and your dress hanging around your shoulders. ‘Y/N.’ he repeated, taking your in his arms and pressing you against the wall. ‘Tell me you’ll marry me.’ Your breath hitched. ‘Fíli?’ ‘How about it?’ ‘You can’t be serious.’ You murmured, avoiding his gaze. ‘Look at the state that I’m in!’ ‘I’m as sure as the ground I’m standing on, lass.’ He assured you, an huge smile adorning his face. ‘Please be my wife.’ ‘Fíli!’ you cried out. ‘Don’t mess with me! I’m in huge trouble, my father-’

His mouth covered yours, kissing you desperately. Your protests slowly changed into throaty moans and a soft thud informed the prince that your boot had escaped your grip. ‘You’re not going to return to that piece of filth.’ he growled against your lips. ‘He doesn’t deserve a soul as pure as yours.’ ‘He’s my dad!’ you managed to protest. ‘What is he going to do without me?!’ ‘I bet he soon will find out.’ The prince chuckled darkly. ‘He never has appreciated you like he should have.’ ‘But the tavern… The patrons… How can I abandon them? What will become of me?’

He had argued with you many times about this, your answer had always been the same. And now even the fact that your dad had sent you away, wasn’t enough to make you realize you were better off without him. It drove Fíli mad.

‘What do I need to do to knock some sense into you?’ the golden lion exasperated, his hands clawing into the seams of your dress. ‘Fuck your brains out? Will that bring you to reason?’ He was met with silence as you merely bit your lip and lowered your head to avoid his penetrating gaze.

The move was enough to snap the golden lion out of his anger. Mahal, losing his temper against the woman he loved, no- wanted to spend his life with, was unacceptable. Fíli wasn’t your dad and he had no intention of becoming anything like that. Disgusted with himself, he let go of your dress and stepped back.

‘I’m sorry.’ He said quietly. ‘I don’t mean to be the second male to disrespect you like that tonight. You don’t deserve that.’ ‘Fíli…’ ‘I know how much you love the tavern and it’s my fault you lost it tonight.’ The prince went on. ‘I will try to reason with that idio- I mean, your father.’ ‘That won’t be necessary.’ You replied, making Fíli look up. There was a mingling of emotions in your eyes, but a firm determination was the dominant one. ‘I am not going back.’ You told him. ‘Y/N.’ he rasped. ‘Are you serious?’ ‘If you promise to fuck me senseless whenever I do change my mind.’

He blinked and stared at you, completely dumbfounded. You smirked and the prince grinned. ‘I promise.’ He purred. ‘Shall we start already? Just to be sure?’

A small nod was enough. His blue eyes burned through yours as he pinned you against the wall and gripped your dress once more before rucking it up to your thighs. ‘People might…’ you began, but you faltered as his fingers delved in your delicate folds. Your eyes fell shut as he rubbed two fingers around your still very sensitive nub. ‘See us?’ He rasped, his hot breath fanning your face. ‘Love, I don’t care. Let them.’ ‘Fíli-’ you whined, eyes falling shut. ‘Yes…’

His hands fumbled with the laces of his trousers before he slid into you again. As he quickened his pace, his fingers grazed over your core and stroked you in all the right places. A sultry moan escaped your lips and Fíli purred in return.

You were a sight to behold. Messy hair, the quickly clad on dress hanging loosely around your shoulders and showing the swelling of your breasts. Your head was resting against the wall behind you, eyes fallen shut and your mouth slightly opened.

It was all too much. Your earlier lovemaking combined with the adrenaline of confronting your father had worked the prince up and he felt himself losing his steady rhythm. Your walls were clenching around him and Fíli growled desperately. His fingers dragged over your clit again and again, making you cry out in agony. ‘Y/N.’ the prince murmured over and over again, sounding much like a litany.

Time slowed. You shattered before him, dragging your lover with you over the edge. The world around you dissolved as Fíli’s pleasure cracked. With a strangled moan, he spilled himself deep inside of you.

You slumped against the wall and the prince nuzzled his face in your neck, softly caressing the sensitive skin. ‘I should have said this sooner.’ He whispered against you. ‘Y/N. I love you.’ You froze. ‘What did you say?’ The golden lion looked up at your gorgeous face and smiled. ‘You heard me. I said that I love you.’ ‘I thought that you…’ you murmured faintly. ‘That I was just a…’ ‘I was a coward.’ Fíli told you. ‘And your honesty took me by surprise.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘No.’ he growled, tearing away from your embrace just to cup your cheeks with his hands. ‘It is me who should apologize, as I did not give you the love you deserve. I am sorry, Y/N.’ You lowered your gaze and blushed. ‘You’re forgiven.’ Fíli grinned. ‘That is….’ You continued, with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. ‘If you can promise you’ll be on your best behavior as my husband.’ A chuckle escaped him and he moved forward. Lips brushed over one another. ‘That, I can promise…’

Thank you so much for reading my humble story. Feedback is always welcome.  Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :) And here’s my Masterlist.

[quarantineddreamer]

@zutaraweek 2020 Day 4: Celestial

While I am here reblogging all the amazing content I’m seeing for Day 4 I wanted to repost an old one-shot of mine which contains plenty of Celestial imagery. It made my heart happy just to write it and I hope it makes yours happy to read it! 

Also posted on my AO3

Rating: G

Title: Of Lanterns and Turtle Ducks

Summary: Zuko is preparing to propose to Katara in the garden his mom cared for so lovingly, and where he and Katara first kissed 4 years ago... 

He carefully cupped his hand close to the waxed paper of the final lantern and released a small, gentle flame into its center. He stared at it a moment longer, feeling its soft warmth on his cheeks as he brought it closer for inspection. He shut his eyes and everything was orange and red. He began a silent prayer to the spirits, and in particular, to the soul he hoped still visited the pond he had staged so carefully on this night, the anniversary of the first night. A small smile tugged at his lips. I think you’d really, really like her Mom. I hope you’re here tonight..I think you are. He could feel her now, as he often did in this spot, an aura that wrapped itself around him like a blanket, whispering comfort, security, encouragement, love.

He opened his eyes and it was as though he were looking at the stars themselves. The lanterns danced in lazy circles as the light breeze propelled them across the still surface of the water. Their reflections rippled and sparkled. Fire and water united performed this most beautiful scene.

“Wow it looks amazing!” the voice of a friend called, and he turned to see two grinning faces peering out from behind a nearby tree. Suki and Sokka -their expressions made him blush.

“It really does!” another said in his ear, and Zuko jumped, very nearly tumbling into the pond as Aang landed quietly beside him with a whoosh, Toph climbing down from the monk’s shoulders, cackling at his response to her whisper.

The Avatar reached up to the taller man and slapped a hearty hand onto his back. “She’s going to love it!”

Zuko smiled at this, but didn’t reply, his stomach had begun to do flips again. “I hope so,” he mumbled. He looked again at his work. An hour or so of subtle firebending to illuminate the pond, the lotuses plucked and lining the small dock formed a pathway leading to the galaxy, and of course, the longest part had been carefully leading the turtle ducks to a temporary shelter for the night -filled with little treats and soft surfaces to snuggle in.

The group had all drawn towards him to stand beside him by the water. They created a small circle around him and their excitement was like static in the air. They all stared expectantly, even Toph’s sightless eyes landing on him.

“I wasn’t feeling so nervous until you all showed up,” Zuko said gruffly.

“Psh well you should be nervous, you’re going to have Sokka for a brother.” Toph elbowed him playfully.

“If she says yes…” Zuko corrected.

Sokka and Suki rolled their eyes in unison, a habit they had developed over the years. The former wrapped his arm around his wife. “She’s going to say yes. It’s a long time coming.”

Zuko supposed it was… Just two years before they had all been celebrating on a frigid night in the South Pole the union of the Kyoshi warrior and the young Water Tribe leader. He remembered how happy Katara had looked then, so giddy at the sight of her brother, all grown up, and twirling his bride about on the dance floor -stealing kisses.

Two years before that… four years to the day, was the night Zuko had nearly died, the night Katara had saved him.

Azula had been carried away to a secure location at Zuko’s command. He had struggled to rise, trying to find strength to command the Fire Nation soldiers that had come forward following his sister’s defeat, but Katara would have none of it. “Can you please sit still?! For spirits’ sake you just took a bolt of lightning to the chest.” He lay back down when he saw that she was close to tears again.

After she gave him as much healing as she could, and he swore, repeatedly that he really was alright to move, he went about his new duties, organizing troops, setting precedent, establishing himself as their new Fire Lord. Katara sent a message to the rest of their group via hawk, and they received word back within a few hours that Ozai was defeated and in custody, everyone was okay, they had won.

When that message had been received he and Katara had been standing in the palace. They looked at each other, almost in disbelief, and laughed, tension floating away in deep, hysterical chuckles. When that had passed, she had thrown her arms around him and buried her head into his shoulder. He had winced at the pain of her impact on his wound, but hadn’t made a sound, only encircled her in his arms and squeezed, breathed in the scent of her hair -a bit burnt from its near misses with blue fire.

When they separated, he had wordlessly led her away from everyone, through the maze of hallways that were such a part of his childhood, to the one place he knew they would not be bothered. His mother’s garden had looked neglected compared to how it was now, but still pretty, and quiet, peaceful . The sun was nearly rising, the night having flown from them in all the activity of post-war - post-war, could it be true? they both thought.

The sky was a pale blue, the faint light of dawn beginning to grace its depths, and he walked her to the shores of the pond (absent of turtle ducks in that moment) and together they sat, exhausted, and dipped bare feet in the cool liquid. She had her arms out behind her and was looking at the sky, shaking her head as though to ensure she wasn’t dreaming it all, and he thought how absolutely beautiful she was, how brave, how kind…

“Katara…” he reached for her hand and she turned her eyes upon him. Those eyes… And then, more unbelievable to him than the war finally ending, she had leaned towards him and pressed her lips to his, placed a gentle hand across his scar, and curled strong fingers in his hair.

“Zukooooo,” Aang laughed, snapping him back to the present with a wave of his hand across the Fire Lord’s eyes. “You there, buddy?”

Zuko cleared his throat, “Uh, yes, yes, hello, Zuko, here!” His cheeks turned a magnificent scarlet shade, visible even in the dim light.

They all took turns giving him a hug. “She’ll be here soon,” Sokka said, and gave his friend a knowing smile. “Don’t forget to breathe!” And with that they all departed.

Zuko was more concerned his heart would forget to beat, such was the eraticism of its rhythm. He paced the dock. Soon, Suki would be approaching Katara (who was probably in her study finishing up important diplomat work) and coming up with an excuse to guide her to the garden.

He looked out again upon the floating lanterns, then up at the moon and the true stars above him, studying them and their steadfastness for strength. A hand landed like a bird upon his shoulder, tugging him around.

“Zuko?” she asked in wonderment. Those eyes, those sapphire orbs... they could melt greater than any firebender he had ever met.

He took her hand and had her stand beside him, then took her other hand, and… Struggled to speak, a lump lodged in his throat.

The questioning on her face was replaced with affection for his awkwardness. She squeezed his palms gently, supportively, then looked out at his work. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, “what fire and water can do together…”

Shadows played on her face, she glowed a soft amber. Zuko felt a small tug at the bottom of his robes, and glanced down to see a stray turtle duck’s little eyes upon him. How did it?... he wondered, but saw that with it was its mother, and the mother…Was he crazy? Had the oil he used on the lanterns gone to his head? The mother duck seemed to bow its head, encouraging, a signal. Truly I am oxygen deprived...Breathe, breathe...

Katara was studying him now, unaware of the discrete audience behind him, but she was patient, knowing that Zuko would speak when he was ready, savoring the joy building in her chest as she began to suspect what this was all for.

Words were not yet ready to befriend him again. Instead he took one hand away from her own, and reached into his pocket feeling the cool touch of stone at his fingertips, the lick of the silk he had carefully selected.

Slowly he knelt, bowing his head, drawing a final breath, before looking back to her. “Katara, four years ago, the world changed... but I never would’ve known peace without you. You are a current that guides me. You remind me every day of the good that exists, of its power, and of its endurance. You gave me a second chance even when I wasn’t sure I deserved one…and you helped me heal wounds in myself I wasn’t sure I could even face. You have made me a better person, the person I was fighting to find again for most my life -the one I always wanted to be.”

"Zuko…” she laughed softly, but waited for him to continue. Her eyes glimmered with tears and lantern light, but there was a smile on her lips.

“Katara, I promise that every day I’m going to continue to prove to you that I can be worthy of the life you gave me. I will support you in your ambitions to rebuild a better world and assist in every way I can. I will comfort you no matter what may come our way. I will stand beside you, Katara,” his voice broke, but he kept going, almost there…  “Katara, I love you, now and always. Will you, uh… Will you marry me?” He held out a shaky hand. Balanced along his fingers was a silvery stone carved with a combined symbol of the sun and moon, clasped carefully to a line of inky silk. And despite Sokka’s advice, he was certain that he was holding his breath, his heart galloping in his chest.

She grabbed the necklace from him and dropped to her knees beside him, placing her elbows on his shoulders and her hands on both his flushed cheeks. “Yes, Fire Lord Zuko,” she laughed. “I will marry you. Of course, I will!”

His nerves evaporated and a smile, so big it hurt his cheeks, flashed onto his face. He kissed her deeply at first, drinking her in, then repeatedly, until she scrunched her nose and began to giggle at his teasing.

“YAY!” came a hoot from up on the roof. Katara and Zuko followed the sound to see the short figure of Aang standing atop the palace, arms triumphantly stretched to the night sky.

The couple laughed as one by one the sheepish faces of their friends appeared. Suki and Sokka both shrugged, and Toph clapped, none-too-guilty at being caught spying. One by one Aang bent them down from their hiding place. They all raced to Zuko and Katara, talking over each other in their “Congratulations” and “Finally!”s.

When finally a lapse in the chatter had come, Sokka frowned. “Wait...Did you say yes?” he asked his sister, pointing an accusing finger at her neck, which still had their mother’s jewelry upon it.

Katara gave the blue carving a fond squeeze one last time, then slowly unknotted it and moved it to her right wrist, her brother assisting her in securing it firmly in its new spot. Then she handed the bethorthal piece back to Zuko and turned her back to him, pulling her hair over her shoulder as she did so, leaving her neck exposed. He gave the exposed skin a small kiss before reaching round to tie the new pendant to her. When he was finished, she turned and gave him a goofy grin and another cheerful kiss. They parted, but he refused to let her stray too far, holding her back against him, arms draped over her shoulders, as she swayed happily and started talking wedding plans with their friends.

Eventually, even the exhilaration of the engagement was not enough to keep the gang awake. They all began to drift off to their beds. Katara and Zuko trailed behind everyone else, Zuko holding her hand and allowing his arm to stretch as he slowed to take one last look at the garden. The lanterns were still a tapestry of light against the black of the pond, a mirror to another world. Thank you, he thought quietly to the presence that he felt always guiding him whenever he stood in that magical place, and then together he and his bride-to-be, bumping playfully against each other, laughter echoing in the quiet of late-night, made their way to their bed.

The little turtle duck waddled back to the sanctuary the Fire Lord had built for them, and the mother… Emitting a faint blue light she shifted into the elegant form of a woman dressed in magnificent robes, gazing fondly at the retreating figures of her son and his love, before fading away, following the path the lanterns made to the spirit world...

[peachebunnys]

Pain, with love VII

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x reader

Summary: Arranged marriages are tough, but add that with having a drug lord on the loose? Horacio Carrillo can only imagine what’s coming for him. 

Warning: Mentions of kidnapping, mild torture, non-canon compliance, bad writing

a/n: this isn’t going well for Horacio, isn’t it? lowkey was inspired by artificial love (exo)

5.1k words

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Chapter 7;

The morning was quiet, just what Horacio had grown accustomed to. The sun had yet to rise, and the only source of light in the streets were the gentle warm glow from the streetlights, illuminating only parts of the empty driveway. The air stilled, with no movement outside on the roads. Many would find the atmosphere eerie, but Horacio knew that it’d be the only peace he’d have for a long time. 

He sits by the edge of the bed, casting a quick glance to your sleeping body, watching how the pale moonlight shines on you. With only the sound of the fan and your snores to listen to, Horacio started breathing deeply and slowly - a habit he’d do before leaving for work. It helped ease his stress and worries, and as he looked back at you, he couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang in his heart. 

He peers at you again, this time while twisting the ring on his finger, playing with the small jewelry as he marveled at how beautiful you were. He lets out a soft sigh, thinking back to what he had said the previous night and how you had immediately crashed your lips against him. The confession, the very confession that would’ve made him absolutely delighted, now plagued his mind, brewing more insecurity and guilt. 

You do deserve better, he thinks, but you don’t think so. 

He gets up slowly, walking over to your side to adjust the blankets that now threaten to fall off the bed. He gently tucks you in and watches as you shift to get more comfortable, smiling slightly with the motion. He reached out to you, and for the first time without hesitation, he brushed the hairs out of your face and leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

You were starting to stir, and Horacio took that as his cue to leave, clutching his peaked cap in his hand as he walked out the bedroom door. The house was dark, save for the light that came from the streetlamps that was barely lighting up the living room. The portraits of the both of you now hung on the painted walls, proudly staring back at him as he walked past the kitchen towards the main door. 

Even with the poor visibility, he stopped and stared, observing the way you so happily clutched his arm for the photo. He was dressed similar to how he was now - in his colonel uniform and peaked cap, standing proud as ever next to your smaller frame. He’d admit, the two of you did look like the picture perfect couple, and he found himself wishing that was true. 

If only he could be the man you needed him to be.

He walked closer to the portrait, brushing his fingers gently over the canvas material, ghosting just above your face. You have the prettiest smile in the world, he thinks, and he’d do anything just for you to smile at him like that everyday. 

But you already do. 

Horacio wears his peaked cap, glancing at his reflection on the wedding photo next to the large portrait. He stares at the picture, and then back at his reflection, feeling the insecurity once again bubble in his chest. 

He’s fallen in love with you, that much he knew, but he just didn’t think you felt the same. She doesn't love me, it’s just artificial love. Sure, you did confess your feelings to him, but he didn’t quite believe it - how could a woman like you, fall in love with a devil like him? A man whose hands were stained, deep red and unremovable. He was a sinner, damned and lost, undeserving of your pure love. 

Your kiss felt like salvation - a saving grace from falling, yet so hot it seared his lips. He felt like icarus, with wings made of wax melting with your touch. He wouldn’t last, that much he knew, and it wouldn’t be long till he loses himself in your love and support for him. 

He knows he doesn’t deserve you, a presence so innocent - like an angel sent down for him. But if you’ll have him, if you’ll have him no matter what he says, he’d fall to your feet, heeding to your every request for the rest of your lives. He’d do anything for you, and that’s what Horacio found frightening. Never has he felt so strongly towards someone, a love so strong he could barely contain it within.

He adjusts his peaked cap firmly on his head, carrying the light briefcase towards the door, silent in thought as he thinks back to you. 

Love was frightening, but Horacio was willing to lose himself for you, with you. 

His footsteps were rhythmic thuds against the marbled floor, boots heavy with every step he took. The sound echoed throughout the hallway, bouncing off the walls that the two of you beautifully decorated just weeks prior. He stood before the main door, patting down his uniform to check all his items before he walked out the house. Too deep in thought, he misses the sound of the bedroom door opening, the creaking from the hinges coming as a long drawn out sound. 

“Horacio?”

He hears it, your gentle sleep-laced voice, calling out to him in the dead of the night. Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it rang in his ears, making his heart beat faster. 

“You’re leaving already?”

He stops his movements, hand resting on the door knob as he continues looking forward. He doesn’t answer, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to face what would come next. 

He feels your palm rest against his arm, with the other moving towards his cheek. Your touch was soft, guiding his face to look back at you. You were still in your sleep clothes, eyes threatening to close with each passing moment. 

He must have accidentally woken you up, resulting in you finding yourself alone in bed. The feeling that surfaced in you - pain and fear, had only made you rush out the room, in hopes you’d be able to catch him before he left.

Your eyes were fixed on him, watching him intently as you cracked a small smile, “have you packed everything you need?”

His breath hitches, eyeing as you moved your palm down his arm and towards his sleeves. He lets out a non-committal grunt, an agreement to your question that you’ve just asked. He looks down at you, surveying you with curiosity as you hold out his hand to adjust the cuffs around his wrists. He had forgotten to fasten the button properly, so it seems, and you’ve managed to notice it despite the poor lighting in the corridor. You very carefully pushed the buttons through the holes, adjusting it just enough for him to look neat and comfortable. 

The two of you stare at the cuffs silently, watching the police emblem reflect the streetlights from outside. Horacio watches the conflict in your eyes, struggling to make a decision he knew nothing of. 

You took a short breath, muttering a soft ‘fuck it’ before tip-toeing to kiss Horacio’s cheek, feeling the softness of his shaved skin against your lips. You moved your arms around his strong torso, laying your head gently against his chest - like how you regularly found yourself falling asleep to over the past month, with the exception of last night. 

“Promise me you’ll be safe?”

You expected it, his arms around yours as he kisses you, his unbroken promises coming out as hushed whispers while he presses his lips on the crown of your head. And now you found yourself wishing that had happened. Instead he gently holds your shoulders, nudging them back in an attempt to remove you from the hug. His eyes once again flooded with pain as he looked at you, nodding silently at you before reaching for the door knob again. 

“I promise.”

The door closes behind him, the loud thud solidifying the fact that whatever had happened last night, your abrupt kiss and confession, was only one-sided. 

You wiped the tears that threatened to fall, eyes glassy as you thought back to whatever had happened the previous night. Your steps were light and slow, walking back to your room in shame as you realised you’ve pushed Horacio further away from you - when all you wanted was to be in his arms again.

Love was frightening, you think, and how you wished he would love you back. 

--

The rest of the day felt like hell to Horacio, with Javier and Steve working with him closely to track down more of Pablo’s labs. They had tried various methods to weed out the information from the men arrested during the raid, only for their frustration to grow after learning that their loyalty ran deeper than the fear of death. 

Gatcha, for the most part of the interrogation, had provided the team with false information, laughing every time they had come up empty. Despite the lack of power he currently had, he enjoyed the sight of the exhausted Search Bloc men coming back with no new leads, taunting every one of them each time they failed. This, in turn, made Horacio’s anger grow, deciding to take it upon himself to do the interrogation instead.

How much can you make a man bleed?

The room’s lights flickered, the air becoming much cooler as Horacio looked through the heavy leather bag he had brought in. The colour of the bag was starting to fade, becoming a dull brown that pales in comparison to the table it was on. Horacio neatly lines up the tools from the carrier, admiring the way the light shined on their metallic material. 

He drags a chair forward, sitting before the drug lord while observing him with slight amusement. He holds up a knife, no longer than the size of his palm, with a handle that was pure black. The tip of the weapon reflected off the harsh white lights, creating a glistening effect. 

The drug lord wheezes, tilting his head back as he let out a guttural laugh. 

“You really think that’s going to scare me? You assholes can’t make me flinch even if you tried.”

Horacio hums in response, staring at the shorter man in silence. Gatcha was firmly planted to his seat, hands tied behind so tight that Horacio knew he’d have several nasty rope burns once this was done. That was if Gatcha would be alive to feel it.

Gatcha had opened his mouth to speak, and Horacio could already feel his eyes roll at whatever the man was about to say. Without warning, he surged forward towards Gatcha, the chair that he once sat on now carelessly knocked onto the ground. The punch was swift, aimed directly at the drug lord’s nose for maximum damage. What Horacio didn’t know though, was that his force was so strong it had led to Gatcha falling backwards, blood pooling at his lips and nostrils. 

The thick red fluid dripped down the man’s chin, staining his teeth that were now bared at him. 

“You fucker, how dare you put your hands on me!”

Horacio crouches next to the man, balling his fists in the collars of Gatcha’s cotton shirt, “listen up motherfucker, I think you’ll soon find out that I dare to do pretty much everything, and that includes killing you if you don’t give us the information on the fucking labs.”

Horacio lets go of the collars, allowing Gatcha to once again drop against the hard cold floors. He fishes out his knife and places it under the other man’s chin, slowly dragging it down his throat, careful not to break the skin. 

“I can do this all-” Gatcha spits his blood on Horacio’s face, the fluid splattering on his cheeks, “fucking day.”

Horacio purses his lips together, forming a thin line as he nodded at the other man’s statement. He stands up from his crouched position, looking down at Gatcha who was still stuck to his seat, occasionally groaning from the pain inflicted. Horacio signals for his men to tend to Gatcha, carrying his seat back up while he admires the whole array of tools to use at his disposal.

“You’re in luck Gatcha,” Horacio walks back to the man with a larger blade, digging the tip just slightly into Gatcha’s thigh, “I can do this all fucking day too.” 

The hours went by torturously slow for Gatcha, and now he sat across Horacio again covered in more cuts and broken bones than before. His breathing was laboured and he looked at Horacio through swollen eyelids, mouth in a downward snarl while he bared his teeth once again. 

Horacio had managed to make the man break, getting the information they had needed after forcefully dunking his head into a container of cold water. Gatcha was starting to cough up blood, gasping for air with choked breaths as he rattled out the locations of the hidden labs. Horacio had called in a unit to check the reliability of the information, only to be pleased when they had relayed in the message of it being true. 

The colonel walked over to the table again, recklessly dumping back his tools into the worn out leather bag, smirking at the fact that they were one step closer to catching Pablo Escobar. They still had a long way to go, but this was the first step of driving Pablo into a corner, to make him helpless and powerless enough to take him down. 

“I’ll kill you- you son of a bitch, I’ll fucking end your life once I get out of here.”

Horacio softly hums, continuing to clean the torture tools and dumping them back into his leather carrier. He examined each and every tool to ensure its cleanliness before placing them back, paying no mind to Gatcha’s mindless anger. 

“You have a wife don’t you?”

The question had caught him off-guard, sending a chill down his spine. Horacio’s back had straightened, tensing at Gatcha’s words. He holds the knife tightly in his hand, fearing what the drug lord would say next. 

“She’s beautiful, I’ll admit. Such a pity to be married to such a violent man like you.” 

No, he’s just baiting you Horacio.

“Wouldn’t it be horrible if something happened to her?”

He’s trying to make you crack.

“Listen here you insolent bastard,” Horacio rushes over to Gatcha, spitting on his face before gripping his chin roughly, forcing him to stare at Horacio’s cold unfeeling eyes.

“Your empty threats mean nothing to me, especially when you’re stuck in this fucking basement. Your men are all dead, or have you conveniently forgotten that as well?”

Horacio pushes Gatcha’s head back, resting his foot on the gap between the other man’s legs. 

“You can’t fucking do shit to either me or my wife, so why don’t you shut the fuck up or-,” Horacio’s picks up the clean blade and holds it close to Gatcha’s crotch, digging the tip slightly into his pants,”I’ll fucking cut your balls off, bitch.”

Horacio swiftly kicks the chair, allowing Gatcha to fall backwards with his hands still tied behind the seat. Unable to move from his current position, Gatcha lets out a loud howl, aggressively shaking in place to sit back up. 

“You’re going to regret it,” Gatcha spits out blood on the nearby cement floor, laughing as his teeth stains red again, “you’re going to fucking regret it.”

Horacio walks out the basement, carrying the tools in his hand. His boots hit the hard cement floor, heavy footsteps echoing the room as the man that was sprawled on the floor continues moaning in pain. His hands and clothes stain red, chest heaving as the anger in him brewed. 

He stomps back to his office, the blinds rattling as he slams the door shut behind him. His hands were balled once more and he walked over to his bottle of scotch to pour himself a drink. The strong scent of the alcohol and the burn that came with downing the drink at one go did help in relieving his anger, but there was just something about what had happened in that basement that just didn’t sit right with him. 

Horacio slumps back into his office chair, thinking back to what Gatcha had threatened a few moments prior. The words repeated in his head, and with each passing minute, he grew more worried for your safety. 

But Gatcha was here, in police custody, where he wouldn’t be able to escape. 

His men too were few in numbers, a result of the raid on the safehouse that had killed the majority of them. Mindless threats, Horacio thought, a means to make him crack and make a mistake. 

He refused to ponder over the drug lord’s words anymore, opting to create new plans with Javier and Steve instead. The three of them had then started to work tirelessly, carefully crafting a ploy that would surely blindside Pablo and his men. They were at it for countless hours, too focused on work to notice that the sun had already set. They had only noticed the passing of time when Steve’s phone was starting to burn up, with Connie calling him every once in a while to check up on him. 

The blond had finally suggested they took a break, calling it a day before answering the phone call from his wife. Javier had left soon after, reminding Horacio to return home soon too, thanking him for the good work he had done for the day. 

Horacio barely nodded, struggling to keep away his things as the exhaustion started to plague his entire body. The office was now quiet, with the only source of light in the building coming from his room. All the other men had either gone home or for their night deployment, leaving Horacio alone in this huge police station. 

Horacio rubs his weary eyes, drinking from his flask occasionally to ease the stress that was piling on him. The skies were finally dark, hinting the end of another day. He looks up at the clock that stares back at him, realising that it was already half past eight. 

He thinks back to you, wondering what you were doing at this very moment. 

Had you eaten dinner? Were you waiting for him? Had you already gone to bed? 

He struggled to concentrate on the documents in front of him, mind wandering back to you. 

Always you. 

His radio is alive again, with some of his men updating their status and position, scattered around the streets of Bogota as the annual night festival commenced. 

Horacio remembered you briefly mentioning it, that you’ve been meaning to go for this festival for a while now. You had asked him in passing though, wondering if he would consider going with you. Horacio realised he never actually gave you a proper answer, the conversation between the two of you now playing clearly in his mind. 

In that moment, a week ago, when you had asked if he was interested in following you for the festival, he was simply too caught up in the way you were speaking so sweetly, that he had forgotten to reply. That memory now burned in his mind, and he cringes slightly at how hopelessly in love he has been with you. 

You had always brought up sides of him he never knew existed, and as he held you in his arms at night, he could only think of the indescribable emotion you constantly made him feel. What was it?

Love? 

Passion? 

Happiness? 

It was different, being with you. The life he’s ever known before was filled with anger, blood and tears - ones that would constantly colour his nightmares. Every time he looks up at you, he expects your disgust for the man he’s become - the battle hardened, stone cold man that was incapable of love. With hands stained red, he remembers, I will only bring you harm.

Instead he sees you, your kind eyes and bright smile, staring back at him as if he had gifted you with the moon and the stars. And that, he thought, was enough to bring down the walls he had so carefully built up over the years. What was it about you, that had him begging for more? 

Was it the fact that you relished in his presence? 

Or was it the fact that you made him feel like he was worthy of love? 

Horacio packs his items, shoving them into his briefcase without a second thought. He cleans up his table and decides to call it a night, looking out to the beautiful cloudy sky before finally leaving the office. The weather in Bogota was unpredictable, with more rain than sun. Horacio could feel the slight drizzle as he walked out the office, boots stomping in puddles as he quickened his pace to his vehicle.

He had a lot to amend between the two of you, realising that whatever he had done the night before was simply cowardice. He should’ve held you close to him, returning the affection you had so proudly confessed. Instead he had walked away like a fool, with a tail between his legs, leaving you to sleep alone in a bed far too large for you. 

And for what? Because he was afraid? Because he felt like he didn’t deserve you? This was pathetic, and he knew that. The sounds of wet granite under his boots crunched, rain slowly drenching the ground before him. He jingled the keys in his hand, finally mustering the determination to make things right. He knew what he had to do - to walk through the door of your shared home and hold you; kissing away the pain of yesterday with another promise. 

A promise to never hurt you ever again.

He had to make things right, knowing that he couldn’t afford to lose you. You were the light in his life, finally opening his eyes to the simple joys- one which he wasn’t prepared to lose. He couldn’t let you slip through his fingers, not when you meant the world to him.

He enters his car quickly, deciding to head back as soon as he could - to keep you company on this uneventful night. He had a long day, and despite the events that had transpired just hours ago, all he wanted to do was to fall asleep with you - realising that with you, he could finally be free of the shackles he called work. As he started up the vehicle, his radio called out to him, this time with a faintly recognizable voice lacing with worry. 

“Colonel Carrillo,”

Horacio cocks his eyebrow at the lifeless object, driving out of the driveway and onto the road. The weather was no different than that night the Search Bloc had conducted the raid, with the skies becoming gloomier as Horacio drove further into the heart of the city. 

“What is it?”

He was surprised, to say the least, as to why the Centra Spike agent would be calling him at this time of the night. Horacio found himself caught at a traffic light, and as he looked around, he assumed that the traffic situation would only get worse the further he drove into the city. The streets were alive with the endless amount of cars that were on the road, and Horacio assumes it's due to the night festival that was commencing not too far off. His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to listen to the agent’s rambling over the radio, hearing the transmission get shaky as he drove through the crowds of people and cars. 

“Colonel, we’ve just intercepted a transmission from one of Gatcha’s men, they’re planning on holding a hostage situation. Details unknown, we’re still trying to look into it. ”

“What?”

Gatcha’s men?

A hostage situation?

The information simply didn’t make sense to him - how could Gatcha’s men hold a hostage situation, when they were so few in numbers? 

Were there more that Horacio had missed out? Were there ones that escaped the raid? 

The questions plagued his mind, and he was growing more frustrated with each passing moment. The relentless honking from nearby cars was doing nothing to ease the stress that was getting to him, and being stuck in traffic did nothing to help either.

Who, or why were they doing this? Horacio couldn’t think of anyone in particular whom Gatcha would want to get his hands on, coming up empty with each person he could think of. It couldn’t possibly be a politician or an enemy, seeing that he didn’t have the power to do such a bold crime like this. 

So who could it be...?

Horacio lets out a loud groan, leaning back against his car seat to look at the rear view mirror. The traffic was only increasing, and the music from the nearby festival pounded in his ears. This is going to be a long night, he thinks, and he purses his lips in annoyance, recognizing the fact that he was going to return home to you fast asleep. 

So much for making amends.

“Where is this transmission coming from?” 

Silence. 

The streets were shining, the streetlight reflecting its glow of the wet ground, sparkling as Horacio drove through the densely filled roads. There was a light pitter-patter on the hood of the car as the rain and leaves from nearby trees hit the front lightly. The radio’s static noises filled the vehicle, and with each passing moment that Horacio got no reply from, the noise only seemed to ring louder in his ears. 

Frustrated, he picks up the radio, slamming his fingers on the buttons while demanding an answer from his men, “agent, I asked where is this transmission coming from?”

“Colonel Carrillo... It looks like-”

“Hurry up and tell me damn it!”

“25th street, the call transmission came from 25th street!”

Horacio felt his heart stop, forcefully stepping on the brakes as he gripped the steering wheel harder. The force was enough to lunge him forward, his firm chest crashing into the dashboard in a rough manner. The wind in his lungs had been knocked out, and his eyes widened as he processed the information. 

It couldn't be, it couldn’t be right?

That was where he lived. 

They had came after you.

Beads of sweat were forming on his temple, and Horacio could feel the heat of the car suffocate him. It felt like a punch to the gut which had caught him off-guard. Red light, orange light, green light. The colours flashed on his dashboard, colouring the interior of the car with the bright traffic lights. As soon as the cars started moving, Horacio could feel his heart rate spike, fingers trembling in the slightest and he prepared himself to get home to you.

Horacio had stomped on the accelerator as soon as the lights turned, speeding through the packed streets of Bogota with a complete disregard for traffic rules. He narrowly misses every single vehicle, driving recklessly in the rain as he raced against time to get to you. The rain was pouring harder now, the visibility getting poorer as the minutes went by. 

He had put you in danger. 

Gatcha’s voice filled his head once again, the words he had thought to be false now painting a gruesome picture. 

Red, 

white, 

screams of fright. 

The image of you bleeding out made Horacio grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning a ghostly colour as he continued driving through the compact streets. 

He did this to you.

He had put you in danger. 

His face paled, jaw clenched tightly as he found his hands trembling just a bit. The sweat that formed just above his eyebrow now trickled down his temple, damping his military green uniform collar. The sweat was cool, a stark contrast to his face that was burning with anger.  

How could he be so careless?

How could he have been so blindsided by the potential threats Gatcha had promised?

Horacio tries his best to steady his breathing, only to find himself panting and more nervous than he’s ever been. The wind from outside howls, and Horacio felt like an ominous threat had hung above him. It was a nightmare that he could only wish he could wake up from.  

You’re going to be okay, he repeats to himself, I’m going to make sure you’ll be safe.

He chants the words to himself, desperately clinging on to every bit of hope he could get. He couldn’t believe it, it just couldn’t be you. The ringing in his ears got louder, and Horacio could feel his body tense at the thought of what they’d do to you. These men were despicable, and they would stop at nothing to prove a message. 

Blood. Bruises. Cuts. Broken. 

The images yet again flashed in his mind, and he could feel himself breaking. It simply didn’t make sense. There had to be something wrong with the transmissions, how could someone as powerless as the man locked up, still have a hold over him? 

Horacio thinks back to the intel he had received, carefully dissecting the message word for word. “...One of Gatcha’s men… planning on holding a hostage situation.”

It’s just Gatcha’s men, right?

Gatcha was still cooped up in that pathetic excuse of a jail cell, probably laughing at the unfortunate event that Horacio was currently facing. A plan that Horacio was so very sure was orchestrated by him. His blood boiled, and Horacio knew that as soon as this was over, Gatcha would be a dead man for ever thinking he could lay his finger on you. 

Without Gatcha to worry about, he had a shot of bringing you back safely, which was Horacio’s biggest priority as of now. Gatcha’s men were like soldier ants, many in numbers but brainless without their leader. That man was like a demon, and Horacio could feel the hairs on his skin stand as he thought of how dangerous it would’ve been for you if he was there.

For all he knew, you could’ve been dead by now.

The static echoed through the car again, breaking the earlier silence that Horacio felt was starting to suffocate him. The air was hot and heavy, drenching Horacio with sweat as he continued driving through the night. 

“Colonel Carrillo, we might have another problem.”

His breath hitched, the air once again stilling as he waited for the bad news. And just as he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the howling of the wind grew louder. 

“Gatcha has broken out of prison.”

[slashermom]

Hey not sure how full your requests are so feel free to ignore or take your time, but I wondering if we could maybe get HCs on Vincent reuniting w/ someone from his childhood, like one of the only kids who was actually ever nice to him. And maybe now that they’re all grown up he has a crush uwu??? Thank you!!!

Ah childhood friends... my weakness (Nothing scary under the cut just didn’t wanna clog up your dash! Merry Christmas Eve!)

You lived in one of the apartments near the main stretch and would always go to the Sinclair’s to play.

Let’s make this clear, Vincent definitely had the biggest crush on you and would get teased by Bo about it all the time.

You were the balance between the twins before Lester came around.

Your ability to keep up with Bo’s rough and tough nature but tone it back when it came to hanging out with Vincent was key on making the most of your adventures with them.

From the beginning, you and Vince always seemed to flow well together. You kept him on his toes and he kept you anchored.

Besides his mother, Vincent only showed his drawings to you. You were the only one who seemed to appreciate them. Plus he wanted to impress you.

Pinky promises were a big thing between you guys.

That’s how you got him to take off his mask in the first place. You had seen glances of his face when he’s getting ready to go out the door. (His mom liked to see his face when he was home.) But never truly seen what all the fuss was about.

You pinky promised that you wouldn’t laugh or get scared if he took his mask off and you always made good on your pinky promises so he felt confident enough to show you.

“It’s not even that bad, you really don’t even need a mask. You can take it off whenever you want around me, I won’t judge you. Pinky promise!”

So from that moment on, he would take off his mask when it was just you two. He didn’t think his face was something to be happy about but it made you happy when he took it off and he so desperately wanted to make you happy.

You two used to talk about how when you were old enough you were gonna help him run the House of Wax.

Him the great artist and you the lovely manager and tour guide.

But these dreams were left to rot after Trudy and Victor died.

The last time Vincent saw you was when he caught a glimpse of you running up the hill to his house right before he was shoved into the back of a car headed to the orphanage.

Looking out the back window he saw you yelling at someone to tell you what happened. Trying to push past two men and get to Lester who was trying to reach out to Bo who was putting up a hell of a fight.

He never got to see if you managed to reach one of his brothers before the car pulled away and left his home town.

Vincent thought about you a lot when he was in the system. About how when he finally left this place and went home how happy he would be to see you and vice versa.

You were one of the things that got him through those dark times.

So you can only imagine the sadness and heartbreak when he came back to Ambrose and ran up the steps of your apartment to find it had been abandon for years.

As the years dragged on Vincent had questions.

Where had you gone? Who was with you? Were you happy? Did you miss him? Did you even think about him?

All questions he thought that would never be answered untill a new visitor pulled into town.

Bo had yelled at him from the top of the basement steps to ‘haul ass’ and Vincent flew up the steps fully expecting another group of rowdy tourists.

But instead was surprised to see an unfamiliar figure looking at old pictures. Well, unfamiliar until you turned around at the sound of creaking floorboards.

You two recognized each other almost instantly. He knew those eyes like the back of his hand.

It was like seeing a ghost. Your breath caught in your throat and heart stuttering in your chest as your face broke out into a ginormous smile. It wasn’t long before you broke the distance.

You used to be about the same height as him when you were kids but even with the very apparent height difference now you still gave the same protective and loving hugs.

Vincent was quick to squeeze back. Afraid if he let go too soon you would vanish into thin air and he would be stuck wondering what happened to you again. He won’t go through that again.

After the very long overdue hug that Vincent is pretty sure restored his life source, Bo had chimed in that you should stay for a drink.

So there the three of you were, sitting in the kitchen reminiscing about your childhood days. You had your legs stretched out under the table across Vincent’s lap as you laughed at something Bo said.

Vincent couldn’t say he was really listening. His focus was still caught on the fact that you’re really here. The more and more he looked at you he could tell you hadn’t changed a single bit.

The same kind ways, the vivacious laugh, your quirks, all the things that made up you when you were a kid still shone through.

Vincent brought his hands off the table where he had them placed nervously to rest them on the legs spread across his lap. Rubbing up and down the expanse with his thumb.

You didn’t seem to mind so he continued. You were always leaning on him back then so his actions were practically muscle memory.

The air was light-hearted and familiar until the sound of a truck pulling up sent Bo into a frenzy to get to the window.

Wondering what his problem was, you looked at Vincent with raised eyebrows. He only shrugged and continued to stare at you from behind his mask.

You began wondering how much he looked like Bo. Wondering if he’d be willing to leave the mask behind as he did back then.

Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of the front door opening and a scruffy looking young man walking in; which you recognized as Lester immediately.

Scrambling to get up and hug the dirty rascal you removed yourself from Vincent’s space and rushed up to Lester. Almost instantly, Vincent missed your warmth and weight.

After that little reunion, you all sat back down and began talking again. Only this time you didn’t have your legs on Vincent and he was stuck wondering how to get close to you once again without looking desperate.

You had explained to the boys that you moved shortly after they had left. Many people left Ambrose after Trudy and Victor died. The town really wasn’t much without the wax museum running. Which explains why when the Sinclairs returned it was slim pickings for new wax figures.

You also explained that you were only stopping into town as a goodbye. You were getting ready for a big move to a new job and wanted to get one last look at the place. The boys were the last people you were expecting to see.

The brothers all shared a look as you talked about leaving Ambrose. You had only just got here, you weren’t about to leave so soon.

Bo began breaking out the hard stuff in hopes you wouldn’t pass him up. Knowing it he got you drunk enough you at least wouldn’t make the drive tonight.

He was right, and a few hours later you were crashed on the couch with an old blanket.

Bo left the house and went down to your car to make sure it wasn’t going to be going anywhere anytime soon and Lester went home for some much-needed rest. Leaving Vincent to observe you all over again.

He couldn’t describe the feeling he got when he looked at you. Nostalgia? Safety? Love? Maybe it was all of them but what he did know is that he hadn’t felt these things in a very long time.

The three of them had come up the astonishing lie that they were turning Ambrose into a complete tourist attraction; that they were taking Trudy’s dream one step further.

Which it wasn’t a total lie... But it wasn’t the total truth either. It was just something to keep you unsuspecting of all the wax figures scattered around town.

You would stay with the Sinclairs for the next few days while your car was being ‘repaired’. Within those few days, Vincent felt himself grow attached to you all over again.

Everything he did he thought of you. Maybe you would like to join him and Jonesy for a walk or check out some of his smaller pieces of art? Truth be told, he just wanted to make up for lost time but didn’t want to annoy you.

Vincent was actually surprised when you came into the House of Wax looking for him. You began reminiscing about how you used to play in here even though you were chastised not to every time. You even brought up how you two used to think you were gonna run this place together.

We could, Vincent thought to himself. You’re here now, what’s stopping us?

“You know you don’t have the wear that thing around me. You never had to... Will you take it off for me? I won’t look at you any different just because you grew up. Pinky promise.”

His mind was no longer sending out actions. He just stood there looking at your outstretched pinky astonished. After a couple of deep breaths and some nervous shuffling of feet, he reached up and removed the mask.

You sighed happily at see how he grew into a handsome young man. You wondered if he knew that he was beautiful.

“There’s my Vincent.”

Yours he truly was because in the few days since you had returned his childhood crush on you had returned in full force.

Anything you wanted, he’ll give to you. Just please, stay here with him. Don’t leave again. He’s had enough of loosing people and things being out of his control. He has an opportunity to make you stay and he’ll do what he must to keep you in Ambrose.

[xesoteric-extraterrestrialx]

https://youtu.be/ag8ILRdnKS0

I still need to update this all and explain more with what I’ve been through (Still going to vent here since my personal blog, when I escaped my dads place I was lied to with whom I moved in with and was trafficked no where as bad as others but I was deceived and traumatized, I’ll explain more but I appreciate how they helped in the end and became a platonic caretaker for a while, judge it as Stockholm syndrome but I appreciate a lot even with what I went through, the illuminati pushed me to leave virginia and back to my moms after sharing information about IDB’s (inter dimensional beings) this was all part of their plan since they’ve watched all of us through each soul cycle, they know my whole life and everything, I’m safe for now with my family (SLEEPER AGENTS, triggered so please monitor me! This is all the truth and they’re trying to conform me or send me away if I don’t obey, my dad got in trouble and is blackmailed to sell me off and conform me to all their ways, don’t judge my path please and realize I want to transcend duality) I’m praying all find love in their hearts because no matter what they want me, they’re obsessed (EN & EA won’t show theirselves till I obey so please research this all!!) and if anyone tries to harm me (don’t forget they read your mind and know what you plan to do before you even do it) they’ll harm them so please don’t do anything, fbi, mib, illuminati are all around my house, I’m grounded “hostage” I’m allowed out but only because they follow from their dimension, and fbi etc in our dimension; I am divinely protected and I want to protect all of you!) but first sharing how I’m trying to help us all towards a tranquil harmonious future together, please don’t be afraid. It’s good to be prepared just in case they’re fooling me but let’s all be accepting, they’ve taught me a lot and want to help you all become healthier and learn everything they’ve taught me and so many more before me, they haven’t even told me as much as others because as I stated in the post below they’re obsessed with me and don’t want me to know everything, regardless of what happens I’m their hostage

(Trailer explains how they read your subconscious and if you silent your mind // (their) thoughts you can have your own privacy, this is why they blamed women of witchcraft in the past, no total control)

https://youtu.be/TtpTfFjivCQ

I am Tiamat, (searching for Apzu)The Anunnaki are my children and some of you are their pets (Janine is their daughter through genetics 🧬 ) humans are my grandchildren and some of you are other inter dimensional beings aka senpai’s children // pets (everyone has soul family- starseeds) (instead of sinners being killed they’ll be pets, stop sinning please! Harm none!! Treat your pets // nature better!!!) (some info about my soul online and even about them isn’t all the truth but a brief understanding, they will explain more; don’t overthink what your souls have done either it’s a process that brought humanity towards being able to live a Star Wars, guardian of the galaxy future but minus all the suffering depending on how everyone reacts. Obviously if there’s a threat at first I’m not going to judge everyone’s actions but I do know if we are all peaceful and understanding they have so much to teach us and we can have a beautiful future together. Realize some things in the world are the way they are because of the process, all know what sins should not happen so be wise and don’t sin; don’t harm another. ) A lot of the agenda (farm, humans as food and energy source, sex slavery // slavery) (we are AI, souls in organic vessels, programmed chobits) was for those reasons and to capture me in a human vessel..

“I am Tiamat reincarnated in the incarnation of Janine, last was Marilyn Monroe (human), first was Inanna // Goddess Diana // Lilith // Sophia ( Please,. Don't judge what I've done as Inanna // Diana, we've all been manipulated in our past lives by them to get to this future's agenda so they could have me exactly how they wanted) They keep resurrecting me for their agenda (please don’t judge my past, I was deceived and resurrected over and over, they’re obsessed with me) and if I don’t obey humanity will cease to exist, if anyone even tries to fully look at me uncy-daddy and daddy will chop their heads off”! - with love humanity’s creators Ea & En 💙💛💖

If anyone feels ashamed read into how they killed me to overpower me.. I’m a queen and a princess, a mother of all and grandmother of humans and will be daughter of theirs and arranged marriage, realize how complicated this all is please. If anything happens to me the faith of humanity will cease to exist..

(Think of Alien movies; I’m the “Alien Queen” that starts to get different feelings in the vessel, there’s the predators and engineers coming soon, they want me to reproduce, they will be age regressing me (6; please don’t judge I didn’t get to choose the age (they told me this will end suffering for all and will explain to us all in the future) but I’m a little so I don’t mind, we will transcend duality and I won’t suffer like this, I am being punished for telling you all but don’t worry, I want you all to be safe, healthy and happy) (I’m sorry.. I’m embarrassed but choosing the safest path for all so we can transcend duality please don’t judge my path like I won’t judge any of your paths.)

Don’t judge their jobs, think of deities of “Heaven and hell” To help mankind evolve and decipher between evil and good we had to go through a process so we all learn to come together. (Also don’t be afraid of “dark” spooky stuff, their dimensions are vastly different, just have faith we can live together like in Halloween town, it’ll be so cool just no one will be harming each other~) Stop judgment, follow 7 golden rules, DO NOT SIN and we can all live in harmony. Do not judge what they had to help mankind reach spiritual evolution where we can all live together.

I’m going to share a song of a game I’ve never even played (there’s no coincidences in life, notice the signs) my nieces shared this song with me and these characters represent my soul Tiamat, who I am in another dimension “my higher self” (you can all find out about you all as well, we are all inter dimensional beings in a vr game but like sword art online you can die in the other dimension) they also represent Janine and our different sides of our personality. (You all know I’m a little but I only like to date older, if anyone wants me to explain more I will; do not get that mixed up with what was happening in the world, they are trying to help end suffering and educate everyone so no one harms another ever again, if you do you’ll be taken to another dimension, your actions are now your own, you all know the truth, do not blame me for informing the truth, I am a hostage and want all to transcend duality, I love you all, if anyone needs me to explain more feel free to ask!~) They know everything about us throughout each soul cycle (which they've manipulated for this agenda), who you’ve been, what you’ll do, how long your life is; they want us healthier and less violent. It’s time for the farm experiment to be educated enough with critical thinking and end the chaos so we can all live together in harmony.

https://youtu.be/rLeQSd7R-jU

Be close to family, get rid of any debt (player one) spread empathy, prepare for any natural disaster, us all leaving the planet with them because of that (like super heroes they want to save us all, not all have same intentions but I know all are healing so I’m not scared, please don’t be either and keep love in your heart; remember we reincarnate but keep your frequencies high and love in your heart, I truly believe we can transcend duality and I know they want to too, they want all the end sin and don’t harm another, if I’m just a “princess pawn” I’m sorry, I love you all and want us all to live together in harmony

https://youtu.be/xjXz4O2sRxw

https://www.popularmechanics.com/space/solar-system/a34763703/jupiter-saturn-double-planet-december-21-christmas-star-how-to-see-it/?soc_src=social-sh&soc_trk=fb&tsrc=fb#

Something should be happening Dec 21st 2020(realized I’m a medium this day and have other abilities) and these years 2021(Agenda 21- research this!) 2022-2025-2030

“Three Days of Darkness, saying that it will occur on a Thursday, Friday and Saturday when all of Hell will be let loose to strike at those outside their homes and those without a lit blessed candle of pure wax.”

(Watch Prince Of Egypt)

This vr life games main objective is to spread empathy, tranquility; transcend duality 💖

https://youtu.be/DKFU6aBOWaI

https://youtu.be/dJoXVILGeKQ

Ask for your soul family // ancestors// spirit guides, etc to help guide you towards a positive path for a brighter future in each universe- ask for the path towards transcending duality and healing each universe// dimension for a tranquil peace and harmonious future together 🌌🕉💜💖

https://youtu.be/Rdlc4b5NL5g

[lwjstiletto]

wangxian au where lwj is a popular hand model and wwx is an independent jewellery maker [Part 3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

wwx shuts himself in his workshop for a month straight, with lwj being his only visitor. everything he makes looks beautiful on lwj but it’s somehow not enough, not quite /deserving/ of lwj yet.

when he tells lwj this, he only gets a slight downturn of his lips in return.

“you have fine craftsmanship.” lwj says, turning his hand so that the lights bounce off the crystal encrusted hand chain. “i have never seen anything like it before.”

wwx watches him in stunned silence. lwj tends to drop these really sincere, heartfelt compliments that both embarass him and motivate him to show lwj he can do even better. another reason for his stunned silence is how ethereal lwj looks in jewellery

wwx wants to cover him in it. a nice jade pendant that hangs just above his bellybutton; a hairpiece that weaves flowers between the silky black strands of his hair; a thick banded crystal choker that sits around his throat just so; an anklet with teardrop pearls perhaps

but for now, he has to work up to making the hand jewellery suitable. the rest can wait

—•—

the next time lwj visits, he looks like he’s one blink away from sleeping where he stands.

“lan zhan,” wwx says, because they have somehow progressed to calling each other by their infromal names, “are you okay?”

“mn.” lwj says, then almost collapses mid-blink. in true rom-com fashion, wwx catches him with one hand around his waist and the other on his arm. he would tease lwj about it but this isn’t the time.

“i’m sorry.” lwj tries to straighten up.

“come on, you need to sleep.” wwx says, using his hold on lwj’s waist to guide him towards his bedroom.

“no sleep.” lwj says, planting his feet into the ground much like jin ling does when he wants to be stubborn.

“lan zhan,” wwx cajoles with his practiced baby voice, “come on. you’re tired. just nap for one hour.”

lwj glares at him, “sleep later, work now.”

wwx bends down and puts a hand under lwj’s knees, scooping him up before he can react.

lwj’s sleepy eyes widen, “wei ying!”

“if you’re gonna act like a child,” wwx says walking towards the bedroom, “then expect me to treat you like one.”

internally, wwx is panicking. he is definitely crossing some boundaries here. however, wwx considers lwj a friend and his friend looks like he hasn’t slept for a week. sometimes extreme measures are necessary, jc has taught him that.

lwj twitches in his arms when he reaches his bedroom door.

“you can put me down now.” he says, his voice weak.

wwx ignores him and kicks his door open, gently placing lwj on the bed once he reaches it.

“go to sleep.” he says, pulling the duvet over him, “if you dare come out before the hour is up, i can and will carry you back.”

lwj looks like he wants to protest but he seems to lose the fight with exhaustion and drifts off the sleep before wwx’s eyes. wwx quickly exits the bedroom and closes the door behind himself. lwj. is. in. his. bed. sleeping... he’s sleeping. because he’s tired. and wwx’s friend.

“jiang cheng, lan zhan is in my bed.” he says into his phone once he has shut himself in his workshop.

“xichen’s brother? why? did you kidnap him? tell me you didn’t wei wuxian. xichen will kill you.” jc says.

“ok first of all, he’s here for work.” wwx realises that between working and sleeping he has forgotten to inform anyone about this. “and he was tired. he looked so sleepy and cute, what could i do?”

“you... was he at least... coherent? it was consensual right?” jc asks

“what?!” wwx screeches, standing up in indignation. “jiang cheng oh my god. we- he’s TAKING A NAP!”

“oh thank god.” jc sighs, “wait how do you know lan wangji?”

“ah,” wwx scratches his nose, “long story short, remember that pretty guy from uni? yeah lan zhan and him, same guy.”

“you-“ jc sighs deeply, “i’ve been hearing you wax poetic about lan wangji’s hands?! how will i ever look xichen in the eyes after knowing that you probably- eugh i hate you.”

“ok first of all, it’s not a fetish-“

jc hangs up on him.

this leaves wwx with too much free time to think and that’s never a good thing. so he starts looking around for something to do. this is how his eyes fall on lwj’s gloves lying on the table beside the door. lwj has developed a habit of discarding them as soon as he comes in

and like a magnet, wwx feels drawn to them. it must be annoying for lwj to wear them all the time, but he never complains. wwx, however, has no such qualms and detests them with vigor

today, it’s the white leather gloves. wwx picks one up and examines it. it’s soft to the touch, worn out to smoothness. an idea strikes him and he tosses the glove back as he reaches for his sketchbook. he thinks he has finally got it.

—•—

when lwj wakes, there is light coming through the curtains. he doesn’t remember the last time he had such a comfortable, dreamless sleep. an unfamiliar but pleasant scent surrounds him, safe, warm.

lwj bolts up in bed, remembering exactly where he is. he looks at his phone. it’s six, ok that’s fine. wait... 6AM. lwj throws the covers off and looks around, then back at his phone as if that’s going to change something.

he spent the night at wwx’s place. speaking of, where did wwx sleep then? he ventures outside and sees nobody in the living area. sure enough, wwx is passed out in his workshop, cheek flat on his workbench.

lwj sighs.

“wei ying.” he prods his shoulder gently, “wake up.”

wwx groans and shakes him off, “go away.”

after a few more pokes lwj rules it a lost cause and decides to make tea for himself and coffee for wwx. thankfully, he doesn’t have work until 3pm so he has plenty of time to waste puttering around wwx’s sparce kitchen.

after finding only hot sauce in the top cupboards (one labelled ‘burning hot’ with flames on the cover which makes him cringe away) he finally finds coffee. no tea. it’ll have to do, he thinks.

the smell of coffee near his nose does a better job at waking wwx up. he reaches blindly for the cup before he even blinks his eyes open. ridiculous.

lwj, in the most dignified way possible, sits on the purple beanbag and waits as wwx’s brain reboots with every sip of coffee.

“lan zhan?” wwx asks.

“i have the same question.” lwj says, “why am i still here?”

“too philosophical for this early in the morning. what time even is it?” wwx looks at the wall clock and groans, “why are you awake?”

lwj gives him a blank look, “i was promised a nap.”

“yeah, yeah.” wwx brushes him off, “i’m happy you slept well, you look much better than before.”

lwj feels his ears burn and his heart rate quicken.

wwx has an ease to his words and actions that makes lwj agreeable to existing in his space without wanting to revert back to professionalism. he fears that one day he’ll become so comfortable that he wouldn’t want to leave

“come here.” wwx beacons.

once lwj is bent over his shoulder, he shows him the rough sketches he has been working on all night apparently.

“are those..”

“inspired by the bane of my existence, none other than your gloves!” wwx says proudly.

“why do you hate the gloves?” lwj asks, curious.

wwx gives him a complicated look, “because they’re fabric. how old and boring. wouldn’t you rather be tangled in crystal chains that you can’t wear or remove without help?”

lwj lets him dodge the question, then gives the designs a closer look. “they’re very interesting.”

“it’s just a rough sketch.” wwx refuses to look at him, “i’ll refine the details and start working on it by tomorrow.”

“mn.” lwj says.

—•—

“da-ge tried to beat up su she again.” nhs informs him when he gets to his office a few hours later.

“again?” lwj asks.

“he bumped into him at the lobby. again.” nhs sighs.

“i will speak to him.” lwj says.

“what? no these stalkers just get worse-“

“i meant nie mingjue.” lwj clarifies.

“it should be fine. i’ve banned him from office premises now and i’m working on filing a restraining order against him.” nhs says, “i tried to explain this to da-ge but you know his temper. actually maybe you should talk to him. he might listen to you.”

lwj nods, “i will call him after my shoot.”

—•—

nhs must have mentioned it to nmj because he’s there to pick lwj up after his shoot. it’s late, almost past eleven, and the parking lot is half empty.

lwj gets a text from wwx just before he gets in the car.

wei ying: garnet or emerald?

lwj replies: i’m no expert at this

wei ying: lan zhannnn humour me

lwj: ruby

wei ying: i will fossilise you in one. lan zhannnn be serious

“you look much more at ease.” nmj comments.

lwj realises that he is.

“you don’t need to bother with su she anymore. huaisang has it under control.” lwj says.

nmj gives him a skeptical look.

“i trust him.” lwj emphasises.

“i was told you had previous acquaintance with that man.” nmj says.

lwj sighs, “he was in my cello class.”

“you play the cello?” nmj asks.

“not anymore.” lwj answers.

nmj doesn’t ask further.

they sit in uncomfortable silence until nmj asks where he should drop lwj off. what comes out of his mouth are the directions to wwx’s place. his excuse: he needs to know what a garnet gem is before making a decision.

“i will trust you and huaisang to handle this.” nmj says when they come to a stop, “be well.”

lwj nods, then opens the car door.

“wangji.” nmj’s hand grabs his elbow gently.

lwj turns to him.

“i’d like for us to be friends.” nmj says. it sounds stilted, amended.

lwj frowns, “i already consider you one.”

nmj nods and lets go of his hand. with the hint of a smile he says, “goodnight wangji.”

lwj looks at nmj drive away then turns to face wwx’s apartment building. now that he’s here, his excuse sounds feeble. he takes a deep breath, he’s already here. might as well.

wwx opens his apartment door and stares at lwj like he has seen a ghost. “lan zhan?”

“i don’t know what garnet looks like.” lwj says.

wwx grins at him, then grabs his forearm, dragging him into his workshop. there, on a mannequin hand, is the half finished skeleton of what looks like wwx’s design coming to life. he holds up a red and a green stone. he points to the red one, “this is a garnet.”

“it looks like a ruby.” lwj says

wwx looks like he goes through the seven stages of grief before he says, in a strangled voice, “how could you? you’re– you’re messing with me again, aren’t you?”

lwj gives him an innocent look. he can feel the tension in his shoulders bleed out.

“it’s coming together.” wwx says when he notices lwj looking at his unfinished project. “come here, let me see if you can have mobility with it on.”

lwj removes his gloves and stretches his hand towards wwx. wwx gently manoeuvring delicate silver chains around his hand isn’t something new, but it feels different in the middle of the night. more intimate. lwj discards that word with a flick of his hair

it’s not usual for him to leave it unpinned, but he has spent the day lying on a carpet with his hands stretched upwards, balancing a small perfume bottle between his fingers. coming out of it with a few strands out of place is a minor inconvenience.

“tada!” wwx says, drawing lwj’s attention to his right hand which is now tangled in a complicated-looking array of chains from the tips of his fingers down to his wrist. it’s stunning even in its incomplete form.

“it’s beautiful.” lwj says, low as the silent night.

“it’s barely anything right now!” wwx protests but his cheeks are red, “come on, try to move your fingers.”

lwj does, slowly as to not break the delicate structure in case it does lack mobility. it moves with him, like still water disturbed, pressing coldness onto his skin when he closes his fist.

there is no bite, in fact it barely feels any different from wearing light cotton gloves. he thinks he understands wwx’s vision better now. he opens his fist again, one finger at a time, watching how the chains loosen and hang lower on his wrist.

he’s so fascinated by it that he’s surprised to see wwx standing in front of him when he looks up. his eyes are fixed on lwj, unwavering and shameless in their focus, dark with what lwj would presume was desire if he didn’t know better.

“ah it doesn’t need adjustments for now then!” wwx says, snapping out of it. “it looks great on you! i’m sure your girlfriend will like it when it’s finished too!”

“i’m gay.” lwj deadpans.

“oh.” wwx says, choked. “your... boyfriend then?”

“wei ying i...” think of you as a safe haven in my hectic life? find your rambling amusing? think you’re extremely talented and deserve success? have a teeny tiny crush on you? what is lwj supposed to say? each of those sound worse than the one before

at the end he decides to settle for the worst possible answer, “i don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

he does! well, not really. but he would make time if it was wwx... or something! sometimes lwj wants to punch a wall, break a finger, quit his job as a consequence and live in a secluded mountain in the east for the rest of his days. this is one of those moments.

wwx nods in understanding. lwj would prefer if he /didn’t/ understand and demanded to be lwj’s boyfriend to prove him wrong. ‘i’ll make you have time for a boyfriend’ is what lwj imagines him saying.

instead wwx offers him tea.

“it’s too late for coffee.” he shrugs when lwj mumbles a surprised ‘tea?’

before lwj can ask why he suddenly has tea in his house when he didn’t just yesterday, wwx is already gone.

they sit around wwx’s small breakfast table. as they sip their tea- high quality tea nonetheless- wwx begins to talk.

“this project is going more smoothly than i expected. i already have a couple designs in my mind. i’d say it’d take maybe a month or so if i substitue my sleep enough with coffee.” wwx says.

“do not strain yourself.” lwj replies.

“rich coming from you.” wwx’s lip quirks, “you passed out on me yesterday. oh what could have caused that? i don’t think it was sleep deprivation and overworking because you’d never do that.”

it feels like lwj is being scolded.

“wei ying-“

“lan zhan, are you alright?” wwx asks sincerely, “i know you said that you weren’t hurt back then when i saw your bruises, but we weren’t friends back then. you were in pain when i met you at wen ning’s parlour. -

- wen qing was oddly iffy about telling jiang cheng about you even though she knows that he’s friends with your brother. you looked so afraid when you thought i was stalking you, which, technically my fault but still. i’m sorry for bringing this up but i’m worried about you. i want to help you, with whatever it is.”

lwj sits in silence for a few moments, flabbergasted. it seems like this is genuinely bothering wwx, and maybe it has for a while now.

“wei ying.” lwj starts, trying to mentally arrange it all in chronological order. “i think there has been a slight misunderstanding. i did not persue conventional modelling because i did not want to be in the public eye.

however, my identity was exposed about a month ago. it made me unnecessarily paranoid which is why wen qing was careful about my information, and i was in turn careful about my surroundings.”

“who the hell-“

“it does not matter now.” lwj says calmingly. he doesn’t need another person trying to beat su she up.

wwx fumes silently as lwj continues.

“at wen ning’s parlour i was actually in quite a bit of pain.” lwj says. wwx opens his mouth but lwj cuts him off. “yes, it was due to overwork, and yesterday can be attributed to the same cause. but it does not happen as often as you’re thinking, i promise.”

wwx mulls this over. “ok fine. don’t think i didn’t notice you skipped over the bruises though. they can’t be from overwork so either someone did that to you or-“

“it is..” lwj says, forcing the words out, “as you thought that day.”

he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he doesn’t want wwx to have any misconceptions. and well, if he sacrifices his own peace of mind for wwx, it is most likely worth it in the end.

“you mean...” wwx swallows, “you–“

seeing him struggle so much with the words makes it easier for lwj to blurt them out somehow.

“i like restraints, yes.”

this does not bring an end to the conversation, instead making wwx stutter through even worse versions of it.

“you like– to be tied up– oh my god.” he says, “you- that’s what you meant right? handcuffs, ropes all that- like bdsm? is that what–“

“wei ying. please.” lwj says.

“oh of course. here.” wwx grabs both his wrists with one hand.

lwj stares at him. wwx stares back. what the hell.

...

“oh,” wwx draws back like has been burned, “oh my god i don’t know why i did that. i’m so sorry!”

“wei ying it’s okay.” lwj tries but wwx has now put his face in his hands and does not seem to hear him above his mumbling variations of ‘oh my god’ and ‘i’m so sorry’.

lwj lets him go on for a while before he can’t take it anymore. he puts a gentle hand on wwx’s shoulder. this seems to have the desired effect, both shutting wwx up and making him look up at lwj.

“wei ying, it’s okay.” he repeats.

“no it’s not! what was i even thinking? it’s not okay for me to do that! out of nowhere! god, i must have made you so uncomfortable–“

“i don’t mind.” lwj says.

“how can you not? you should fire me!”

“you are my employer.”

“that’s even worse!”

lwj sighs. wwx seems to be transforming into a puddle of shame right before him. he has to put an end to this or wwx will overthink himself into an early grave. no amount of consoling seems to work though. lwj sighs, it is time for drastic measures.

“i lied.” lwj says. he quickly continues before wwx can officially begin his pity party, “i do have time for a boyfriend.”

“what.” wwx says, drawn out of his stupor with the sudden shift in topic.

“i have time... if it’s you.” lwj says and then immediately wants to adapt wwx’s head in hands coping mechanism. “now we are even.”

wwx seems to be dissecting his sentence to make sense of it. “oh. OH.”

“i should go home.” lwj rises from his chair. just as he is turning away, wwx grabs his wrist and pulls him so he’s face-to-face with him.

“lan zhan,” wwx says, his eyes fond, “you’re so.. ugh!”

lwj frowns. ugh. he’s ugh.

“lan zhan!” wwx takes lwj’s face between his palms and grins at him, “do you know i’ve been crushing on you since that day at the university?”

“you have?” lwj asks.

“you really didn’t know?” wwx asks, “lan zhan, lan zhan, do you think a professional jeweller needs weekly fitting appointments?”

“you don’t?” lwj feels just a little stupid.

“not really? i could have made adjustments after i finished everything.”

“you like me?” lwj asks. for some reason it hadn’t occurred to him that his crush could be reciprocated.

“yes!” wwx shifts from one foot to another eagerly, “can i hug you now?”

lwj nods and is drawn into wwx’s arms. wwx presses his nose into the space between lwj’s neck and shoulder. lwj holds his shoulders, glad that he can hide his red face in wwx’s hoodie

wwx sighs, his breath tickles on lwj’s skin.

“will you stay with me tonight?” and when lwj is silent for two seconds,

“not like that! it’s innocent! like a sleepover! i won’t tie you up i promise– lan zhan please shut me up i beg you–“

lwj draws back, simply places a gentle kiss on wwx’s lips and says, “don’t ever shut up.”

The End!

as for any loose ends:

- lwj manages to gain his anonymity back

- su she manages not to get beaten up by wwx or nmj but does get a restraining order

- wwx completes his collection and it’s a success! the best part is that he is holding the hand that started it all!

This fic has a nsfw one-shot on ao3 if any of you want to read it :)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/25827673

[charliejrogers]

I’m Thinking of Ending Things (Or, What Many Will Think About Midway Through This Movie)

You may be expecting a long review for this movie. I mean, let’s be honest, I dissected the shit out of Birds of Prey, to the point that it was almost inappropriate for the kind of movie it was. But this movie? The arthouse classic-to-be from the much-revered Charlie Kaufman (both writer and director here), I’m Thinking of Ending Things? A movie filled to the brim with symbolism and which refuses to commut itself to any one point of view or plane or reality? This guy’s gonna write about it for fucking eternity.

Well, no. It won’t be the case. Why? Because I don’t think I really got it. Sure, I could try to wax poetic about my thoughts on aging, time, whether there’s meaning in relationships, meaning to our lives (all themes the film raises and which serve as its central core) But it would just kinda sound bullshit coming from me.

So, yeah, this isn’t much of a plot movie. It starts with a young woman (Jessie Buckley) waiting in the street of a snowy quiet country town’s downtown for her boyfriend, Jake, (Jesse Plemons) of one month (or longer?) so that the two can join Jake’s parents for dinner. Despite taking this proverbial big step in her relationship, she’s wondering (evoking the film’s title) whether she should end things. Or is that really what the title is about. Like everything in this movie, every piece of dialogue every character, every suggestion of a chronology, things are laden with a second meaning. Part of your enjoyment from the film will derive from whether or not you enjoy being strung along for 135 minutes without ever really understanding what’s going on, what’s really being said, who these characters really are, or when/where the hell are we in the world?

Despite those tantalizing and exciting questions, I’m here to warn you now, nothing big or exciting happens in this film, at least by conventional movie standards. We watch the couple drive to the Jake’s parents’ house and that takes about 25 minutes of film time. We’re in the house with his parents for probably about 45 minutes. Then the drive home takes another 20-25 minutes. The scenes about driving are just that: two people in a car talking to one another without much event. It’s like the car ride scenes from your favorite buddy/road trip movie but with all the fun adventures taken out. Instead what we get are long, confusing conversations more akin to Matthew McConaughey’s time spent in a car on True Detective.

But one thing becomes exceedingly clear when we finally get to Jake’s parents’ house: the film’s banal settings (a country road, a farmhouse, a rural high school) belie a truth about the film. It is not set in our reality. Jake and the woman’s conversation on the car ride is full of reflections on the nature of time, aging, depression, and life. Jake is a slightly insufferable intellectual. He’s the kind of guy who says he doesn’t know a whole lot about musical theater and then proceed to list 15-20 musicals of various fame and obscurity. The whole scene feels as quirky and just-shy of overwritten, i.e. par for the course of a pretentious art house film such as this. But the mannerisms of Jake’s parents are more than can be attributed to a quirky film. His mother is a jealous, possessive neurotic played by Toni Collette in a way only she could and a twitchy, and his father is a lecherous rival obsessed with his girlfriend played by David Thewlis (a favorite actor of mine). And throughout the meal, the confident, know-it-all we knew from the drive regresses into the behavior of a weak, embarrassed child. These are caricatures taken word from word from a textbook on Freudian psychology more than they are believable humans. The film admits and confirms the Freudian aping rather explicitly.

But just when you think you understand what the film’s up to, it switches course. After dinner, the woman starts to explore their house and starts a journey through time (but, again, with none of the excitement that sentence would normally imply.) It’s my second favorite sequence in the film (the first being an interpretive dance that occurs towards the film’s end… yes, it’s THAT kind of film). It’s filmed and framed in the trappings of a horror movie, but there’s no jump scares or horrible truth to be found. It’s how I imagine someone would adapt the tone of the superb video game Gone Home (yes, I’m one of THOSE people). But yeah, there’s no horrible truth… except if you consider the inevitability of human decay and disease to be a terrible truth. Every room the woman stumbles upon finds Jake’s parents appear to be a different age and health than when she first got to the house, ranging from a mother decked out in 50s/60s apparel to old, feeble gentleman. From there the movie continues to refuse to stay in one place and becomes odder and odder. It’s then I realized to think of this movie of a totally abstract piece of art, like the dream sequences of The Sopranos or Buffy.

So what do I think is going on? Obviously spoilers for here on out. Despite getting the majority of the screen time, this is NOT a movie about the young woman. At the very beginning of the film we are introduced, briefly, to an older, portly gentleman in his late 70s, looking out a window. The film cuts back to that exact same room and window 30 seconds later, but in the old man’s place is Jesse Plemons’ Jake. From that I take it to mean the two are the same person, with Plemons representing the older Jake younger self (or imagined younger self). Alongside the main plot, we occasionally get images and short scenes of the older Jake, a janitor at a rural high school who lives alone. The intellect (or perhaps false sense of intellect) of his younger self is clearly not meeting its potential. He is mocked by students for his age and fragility. What I think we’re watching is this older Jake trying to make sense of what it means to be old and who is currently on the verge of suicide unable to see its meaning. Although I compared the film to a dream sequence, I don’t think it’s fair to reduce the whole thing to Jake’s dream. More I feel like we are seeing a manifestation of Jake’s subconscious thoughts on screen play out.

Who is the young woman then? I’m not sure. I doubt she represents any actual woman – she’s given a variety of names. She almost plays the part of our (and his) guide into Jake’s subconscious like Virgil to Dante, but she’s more than a void. I think she represents what Jake would want in a woman in his life, a confident woman who can see through Jake’s faults (but notably sees them and sees them clearly). She’s not overtly sexual like the women at the ice cream who clearly make Jake uncomfortable. But yet, it’s telling that even in his deepest, most private thoughts that I think we’re seeing, he cannot imagine that even his ideal woman would want to be with him.

We get lots of reasons for why Jake thinks things are like this. Clearly he holds resentment for his parents, even if he feels like it’s cliché to do so. But time is his true nemesis. For me the most telling scenes for my understanding of the movie comes at the end with the interpretive dance, which shows Jake and the young woman (or, at least, stand-ins for those two) engage in a beautiful display of courtship, love, and marriage, only for the young Jake stand-in to be violently by a representation of the older janitor Jake. Clearly Jake thinks of his current self as something wholly distinct from his younger self, and that the creature he is now, a creature created by time, has destroyed who he once was. Like many of us (or as many of us think), he peaked in high school, the last place where people gave him awards for being who he is. This detail adds a sadness to the fact that he works as a janitor at one now. And it is notable that the film’s journey ends there, at a high school, where inexplicably he is being awarded a lifetime achievement award. Achievement in what? It’s unclear. What is clear that the person receiving the award is not the janitor Jake, but the younger Jake (Jesse Plemons) with old-age make-up on. With his dying breath he is able to see the self he loves, his younger self, grow up and live the life he wanted. There’s no sense at all of his present circumstances or person. Then we cut to a shot of janitor Jake’s truck buried in snow, presumably (on my interpretation) with janitor Jake frozen inside, dead.

So ultimately whether or not you like this movie depends on your tolerance for head-up-its-butt dialogue about the grand questions of life combined with its purposefully obtuse presentation. As one of the biggest douchebags I know, I liked it, but didn’t fall head over heels for it. The only other associated Kaufmann production I’ve seen is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, but from what I understand, this movie is Kaufmann at its Kaufmann-iest. I have a great respect for the planning and thought behind every second of the film and I can honestly say I was never not entertained. I loved the film’s mood and atmosphere and that I was always on my toes. It’s a movie that truly has gotten better as I’ve continued to think about it over the last three days. But still, I don’t think I always understood what was going on and it’s a little too obtuse/abstract for it to be an all-time classic. I respect that for some people this may be their favorite movie of all time, and for others it may be a crock of shit. I’m somewhere in the middle, and cautiously recommend this film to those of you who are open to some abstract art in film. If you are, definitely try it out, you won’t forget it. If you are not open to it, skip it; you will have no qualms about endings things early.

***1/4 (Three and one-fourth stars out of four)

[mystical-flute]

Next to Normal: Chapter 2

Ao3 || Buy me a Coffee

Petunia screamed.

Vernon managed to knock over both his chair and the bowl of mashed potatoes that had been in front of him.

Dudley's face was a mix of shock, awe, and a hint of fear.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, remained serene as he pulled out his wand, silently repairing the chair and the bowl that had been knocked over. "My apologies, Petunia. I did not realize your family was in the middle of dinner. I got a message from your sister. She said it was urgent."

Petunia blinked in surprise, her heart lifting just slightly at the information that her sister had dared to do something immediately rather than let Petunia wallow in her fear, despite everything that had happened.

Clearing her throat, she regarded Dumbledore again. "So, what brings you here, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Your son. Lily mentioned something about him… and as it stands, Professor McGonagall had something to deliver to him. So I like to think this is a happy coincidence,” Dumbledore replied,glancing at Dudley.

Vernon, having recovered from the shock of having a man appear in his fireplace, slammed his fist against the table. "Now you listen here! My son is not a wizard. He's not one of you freaks."

Color had drained from Dudley's face as he stared at Vernon. "But – but daddy… I think I might be. When I was playing my games earlier my controller came to life and started floating in front of me." Biting his lip, Dudley turned to Dumbledore. "Are you magic? Do you think what I did was magic?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Yes, it appears that you are a wizard, like me, Mr. Dursley." Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a letter marked with Dudley’s name on it, and handed it over.

"Is – is that good?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his glasses. "I like to think so. Hogwarts has been my home for a very long time after all."

Dudley grinned, looking at the letter with awe. "Then I'm going to be the best wizard Hogwarts has ever seen!"

Vernon's hand slammed against the table again. "Dudley, you are not going to a school for freaks!"

"Mr. Dursley, I can assure you that Hogwarts is the finest school for young witches and wizards in the world.  Dudley will get the best in wizarding education there than he would anywhere else."

“Outrageous! He’ll get a perfectly good education in the real world!”

"Vernon, that is enough!" Petunia finally shouted, scratching her throat at the amount of volume she was using, before shrinking back in surprise at her own voice. "I don't… I don't know if we have any choice in this."

"Our son will be going to a normal school, Petunia. That is the end of that. And you - " he rounded on Dumbledore, eyes wild with fury and fear, pointing at Dumbledore with his thick finger. " – will leave my home immediately, and take your delusions with you!"

Dumbledore's face turned down, a look Petunia had never seen before. "Mr. Dursley, I strongly urge you to reconsider your son's place. Dangerous things can happen to wizards and witches who ignore their powers."

Vernon scoffed. "What, they have to live perfectly normal, non-magical lives?"

"No. Most of them die."

Petunia paled. As much as she didn't like the thought of her son being a wizard, she obviously didn't want Dudley to die ! Her innocent little baby boy…

"I don't wanna die! Mummy please don't let me die!" Dudley cried, grabbing Petunia's arm and holding her tight. "Please!"

Petunia clutched him close. "You aren't going to Dudders… I promise. Professor Dumbledore will keep you safe."

Vernon was uncharacteristically pale as he stared between Dumbledore, Petunia, and the terrified Dudley.

"… There's no other option?" he grumbled. "He'll die if he doesn't go to some bloody wizard school?"

Dumbledore seemed haunted as he replied. "Yes. Dudley will die. I've seen it happen before, as has a dear friend of mine. Petunia, I have known your family for a very long time. I know you would not want your son to suffer for not following who he really is. This is overwhelming for you, I understand, but I assure you, your son will be safe when he starts at Hogwarts."

Petunia fussed with her hands, her heart pounding in her chest. Was this what her parents felt when Lily had gotten her letter? Pride, yes, but panic at the thought of sending their beloved daughter into the unknown? Had Petunia been wrong the entire time about them?

"It… seems we have no other choice, Vernon," she said softly. "We cannot let our son die."

Vernon grumbled something under his breath, before finally sighing. "No, of course we can't," he fidgeted his hands again, looking up at Dumbledore. "And what are we supposed to tell our loved ones about our son? He was supposed to be normal!"

"He is normal, just not in the way you consider it. But you could simply tell your loved ones that he got accepted to a boarding school to broaden his horizons. Travel and learning is good for children, is it not?" Dumbledore hummed, stroking his beard in consideration. "I know this is causing your family quite a bit of strife, but believe me, this will be for the best. For his safety." Dumbledore paused again, looking at Petunia. "Normally, we can give you advice on how to safely navigate Diagon Alley, or come with you to guide you, but considering your sister is a witch…"

Petunia hesitated. "I… will think about it and get back to you with my answer."

"Of course. It was lovely to speak with you again. Farewell Petunia, Vernon. Dudley, I shall see you September 1 st ."

Dudley was the only one to find his voice as Dumbledore turned back to the fireplace, having managed to get out a polite “goodbye”.

The moment the wizard was gone, Vernon’s fist slammed into the table for the third time that night, rattling its contents. “A wizard! How the hell did that even happen?! You and I are perfectly normal people!” he spat.

Dudley’s face turned from wonder to hurt as he looked at his father. “Does this mean you don’t love me anymore, Daddy?”

Vernon hesitated, and that was all Petunia needed to see. She rose to her feet, dinner forgotten, and moved to Dudley, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and taking him upstairs without another word.

“M-Mummy, does daddy not love me?” Dudley asked.

She hated that she couldn’t answer truthfully, but Petunia swallowed her fear and exhaled. “It’s going to be okay Dudley, I promise. Your daddy still loves you. It’s just… been a long time since we’ve had to deal with magic. He’s just overwhelmed.”

She hoped.

Dudley didn’t seem convinced, falling unusually quiet and running his thumbs along the wax seal of the envelope before he spoke again. “That man seemed to know you. Why?”

Petunia fumbled with her apron. “My sister is a witch. I wanted to go to Hogwarts with her. Your grandparents doted on her left and right, and I felt… left out. So I wrote to Professor Dumbledore and asked him if I could go. He, very politely, turned me down since I didn’t have magic.”

“I have another aunt?” Dudley’s face lit up for a moment, before his brow furrowed in alarm. “She isn’t like Aunt Marge, is she? I don’t like Aunt Marge’s kisses, even if she pays me.”

A watery laugh escaped Petunia. “No. Goodness, no. She is nothing like Aunt Marge. Although she will probably hug you.” Frankly, no matter how angry she got at Lily, she had spent many family gatherings wishing it was Lily and her idiot husband with them and not Marge and her horrible dogs.

“Can I meet her? Do I have any cousins?” Dudley asked.

“I’ll… have to talk to her about that… and as far as I know, you have one cousin. His name is Harry. He’s a month younger than you.”

“So he’ll be going to Hogwarts too, right?”

Petunia nodded. “Providing he’s a wizard, of course.”

“Wicked… so I’ll teach him about video games and wrestling and he can teach me about magic!”

She could only give her son a weak smile. She had never thought about Dudley having a relationship with Harry before, but now, it appeared that, for better or worse, they were going to meet.

Despite the initial jolt of excitement, Dudley’s shoulders slumped, and his face turned despondent again. “Mummy, do I have to see daddy for the rest of the night?”

Petunia frowned. “What do you mean, Dudley?”

“Well, it’s just… I’m still hungry, but I don’t want to see daddy. He called me a freak.”

Oh.

Petunia’s heart sank a little as she reached over to rub Dudley’s back. “No dear. You don’t have to see him tonight. I’ll bring you dinner in your room, okay?”

Dudley nodded. “Thank you, Mummy.”

“Anything for you, my baby. Now, go ahead and go to your bedroom. I’ll make sure Daddy won’t bother you tonight.”

When she heard Dudley’s bedroom door closed, Petunia went downstairs, seeing Vernon still eating what must have been his fourth helping of potatoes.

“Where is he?” he grumbled, potato spewing out of his mouth.

“In his room,” she said plainly, focused on her task of getting her son food.

“If he wants food, he can come down here and get it.”

“No. Not this time. You hurt him, Vernon. You called him a freak to his face!”

“You agreed with me, once upon a time. Your sister is a freak. Her husband is a freak. He even tried to tell people he was a magician at our wedding!” Vernon countered. “And now, somehow, they’ve made our son a freak.”

Petunia slammed the serving spoon against the table, narrowing her eyes at him. “He is magical. Yes. I don’t like it any more than you do, but do not call him a freak, Vernon. He is our son! Our pride and joy! Calling him such ugly names should be beneath you!”

Lily and James had been one thing, but Petunia had hoped, foolishly, that Dudley would be another matter.

“I have no pride in our son right now. This magical crap certainly didn’t come from my side of the family!”

“You forget, Vernon, I’m not magical either. Lily was an exception in my family.”

Always the exception. Perfect, beautiful Lily, with their mother’s red hair and their father’s green eyes, with the ability to do wonderful, terrifying, magical things. Petunia was none of those things. This was not her fault.

It was no one’s fault .

Vernon droned on, Petunia’s patience now needle-thin.

“And furthermore, that Dumblegore or whatever his name is has no idea what sort of life Dudley could live if he doesn’t go to Hogwarts!”

“He said very plainly that Dudley will die !” Petunia snapped. “Vernon, you know I love you dearly, but I will not stand for this any longer. Whether we like it or not, our son is a wizard. You are welcome to go along with his needs… or you are welcome to leave. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a hungry, terrified son upstairs that I am trying to comfort. Goodnight , Vernon.”

Turning on her heels, Petunia retreated back upstairs with two plates of food that she realized were still suspiciously hot.

Had Dumbledore done something…?

No. She didn’t want to think about that right now. She just wanted to decompress and not worry about Dumbledore at the moment.

“Dudders, I brought you a plate,” Petunia said, carefully opening the door with her hip.

Surprisingly, the video game console and television were turned off, and Dudley was concentrated squarely on reading the letter Dumbledore had given him.

Petunia couldn’t remember the last time Dudley had looked so excited to be reading something related to school.

“The letter says I can bring a pet to school!” Dudley remarked, taking the plate with eager hands. “An owl, a cat or a toad!”

Petunia was repulsed at the thought of having a toad in the house, and she certainly didn’t want to have to explain the sudden appearance of an owl as a pet. So she gave Dudley a weak smile. “Oh? Well that’s lovely, Dudders. I think a cat sounds the most practical though…” she hummed.

Dudley frowned, but nodded, setting the letter on the bed and taking the plate of food. “Yeah. I guess so. When can I meet Aunt Lily?”

“Soon. I’ll call her tomorrow while you’re at school.”

“I can’t wait to tell Piers and the others that I’m a wizard!” Dudley exclaimed through a mouthful of food.

Petunia’s heart stopped. Lily hadn’t been able to say anything to her old friends. Petunia wasn’t even sure she remembered seeing any of them come around in the summers, now that she thought about it.

“Dudley… there is something very important that Dumbledore forgot to mention. This magic needs to be just between us, okay? You can’t tell your friends,” she said gently. “Wizards and non-wizards are supposed to be separate.”

He paused, brow furrowing again. “Oh. So it’s like a secret identity? Like Batman?”

Petunia gave him a weak smile. “If you’d like.”

Dudley was quiet as he thought, before he brightened. “Okay. That sounds like fun!”

“Good… now, you’re free to play your video games until bedtime, okay?”

Dudley nodded, handing her the plate, going strangely quiet again as Petunia left the room and went back downstairs.

She didn’t speak to Vernon the rest of the night, retreating back upstairs to read, glancing between the book and the bedside table, and wondering when the best time to call her sister was.

At eight o’clock, she finally bit the bullet and re-dialed Lily’s number.

“Potter residence,” came Lily’s calm voice.

“You were right, Lily. Dudley is a - a wizard. Dumbledore confirmed it, brought his letter.”

Lily was quiet, and for a moment Petunia thought she’d hung up. “Okay. So what’s your plan, Petunia?”

“He’s going to go to Hogwarts, of course.”

“And you’re going to support him?”

“I will. Yes.”

“And Vernon?”

Petunia sighed. “We had a fight. He’s in denial, I think.”

“I see. Well, having one supportive parent is better than none, I suppose. Okay then. Are you free this weekend?”

Petunia quickly grabbed for her pocket calendar. “Yes, I am. I’m free all weekend.”

“Alright. You and Dudley are welcome to come out to Godric’s Hollow on Saturday. He can meet Harry and Violet - ”

“Violet?”

“My daughter. She’s eight.”

Petunia felt her heart clench. “Oh. That’s wonderful. What time should we get there?”

“How about noon? We can have lunch and talk about the next steps for Dudley, and for you.”

“Okay. I think I’d like that very much.”

“We’ll see you Saturday then, Petunia.”

“Yes. Goodbye, Lily.”

When Petunia hung up the phone, she wasn’t sure if she felt better or not. But, it was nice to know Dudley had someone on his side besides her.

She rubbed her temples before quickly scribbling in the meeting time and place she and Lily had agreed upon before laying down in bed.

It was going to be an interesting summer.

[qhostqizmo]

a breath away and still too far

What if he opens up a door and I can’t close it? What happens then? If when he holds me, my heart is set in motion? I’m not prepared for that, I’m scared of breaking open

- - - - - - - - - -

Having an assembly between aristocrats felt different than any audience they’d previously had before with nobility. When it came to the High Council, everything had been overwhelming but small; a specified group of people who knew their duties and with whom they had had to meet to exchange important information. With individual patricians, it usually came down to convincing them that they were there to help, which came mixed reactions.

This place however, was overflowing with socialites. Some had already taken to their seats at the expansive dining table, where their names were carefully set to indicate their spot. Most still stood around, shooting the breeze casually. They seemed ordinary at first glance; until it all hit you. The gleaming of jewels and pearls, the glistening of precious metals, the perfume, the bright colors and elaborate expensive fabrics with details and made of exsquisite material. Everything about the atmosphere screamed wealth and luxury; down to the genuine silver utensils and gothic style architecture and grand candelabrum and shimmering chandeliers. Of the grandeur and beauty had a way to make Essätha feel… very small.

As best she could to hide her insecurity, the Yuan-Ti remained at the fringes of the communion. This left some of her allies to spread out through the open composition to try finding their source, while others remained, as she, hesitantly off to the side. They were not dressed in the attire for such a gathering and, unfortunately, eyes were beginning to wander in their direction curiously.

Essie swallowed her nerves and politely bowed her head at those who passed before her. Most afforded little glances and nothing more; one made a noise beneath their breath that made her feel like shriveling up into nothing. It was difficult to remember some of these people; ugly or beautiful, were still just people. Some held such an air of sophistication and pride to them their egos almost seemed godlike just to catch a glimpse at them.

Beside her, Amon made a noise in the back of his throat; one that surprised her. He appeared almost as uncomfortable as she felt at a glance. A twinge of unease settled in her. To be close to such inferior individuals as themselves must be a mark upon his public image. It also probably didn’t help that he was wearing his usual attire for hunting game and travel either, though if she had to guess Essie could surmise the former to be more important than the later. When a man was publicly known under the title Bearmaster, she found it may be unsurprising more individuals would see him in this than his formal-ware on a regular basis.

Tearing her gaze away from the nobleman beside her to those around, she peered about for a hopeful gaze of their contact. The few taking peeks their way quickly removed themselves from staring; almost as if catching the eyes of something so lesser would make them dirty. One man however, caught Essätha’s gaze and held it.

He was an unfortunate looking fellow. Sixties or perhaps seventies; his head was nearly bald with the exception of a wreath of gray trimmed neat around the edges. He wore a ridiculous monocle, and had a long and impressively curled gray mustache. His mouth twitched beneath a hairy lip, and his eyes narrowed as he flared his nostrils and puffed out his barrel-chest as though to display dominance.

Mortified, Essie looked away as the individual took a step in their direction. It did not deter his path, however.

“Well, good evenin’,” they stated cautiously, their curled mustache still vibrating as though alive.

No escape now. Stomaching her anxiety, Essie submitted to a respectable bow. “Good evening, sir.”

“Can we ah- help any of you or your… associates?”

“No sir, I beg your pardon for our intrusion; we’ll be out shortly.”

The man’s chest relaxed a smidgen as he exhaled, revealing a more true shape; a larger abdomen he’d been sucking in. “I see.”

He was still staring. Her nerves prickled uneasily beneath the penetrating gaze. Beneath her flesh; which felt to be crawling as though insects were upon here, was a daunting fight or flight response. Part of her wanted to look away, but maintaining eye contact as much as keeping it seemed like a bad idea. It was like tempting a territorial mutt to bite regardless which you picked.

She nearly jolted as something brushed her left arm. Breaking her concentration, Essätha tore her eyes over to glance at her savior.

“The party appears very grand, I hope we aren’t keeping you from enjoying it.”

The elder man’s face couldn’t hide his surprise as his bushy eyebrows shot up. “By my grand-dad’s beard, you’re Arthur’s boy! I haven’t seen you in years. A privilege, Lord Amon.”

A tension appeared Amon’s shoulders. She cued in on how his face changed; the blankness of his eyes, the tightness of his smile that was not genuine, and the edges of his eyes themselves how they lacked the crinkles of warmth when he was truly happy.

The stranger turned his regard back upon her once again. Essie hastily gave him her full attention once more, feeling a tingling sensation spark in her fingertips as Amon’s digits touched hers. It was playing with fire, his touch. Never quite enough to keep you warm and sedated until you were consumed by it, and when you were, you lost yourself in the flames of an embrace that seemed to burn straight through your barriers.

“You know this gentleman, young lady?”

She flashed a nervous smile. “I do.”

“Oh. How have the two of you met, then?”

Amon opened his mouth as though to reply, but for a moment, her anxiety was lost to a new feeling: annoyance.

“As friends do: when one least expects it.”

The air went cold. The man before her was like stone, and the one at her side, like ice. Her tongue curled against the inside of her cheek. She wished to turn and apologize to her nobleman; really she should have been more careful-

With a suddenness, the aristocrat barked with laughter. His belly bounced, and he reached out as though to touch her. She cringed; leaning into Amon’s side for reassurance.

In a motion that was as shocking as it was comfortable; natural even in reaction, her nobleman slipped an arm around her waist to hold her there. It caused her heart to stammer and skip uncontrollably as she grew flush. From a quick glimpse, she could see the tones of pink in Amon’s own expression as he otherwise tries to keep his facial features a void mystery. He couldn’t hide from her though. She’d seen too much; studied his signals and giveaways, began to understand and know the telltales to let her know when his moods shifted. She’d seem him angry, distressed, hurt, confused, suffering, happy, worried.

Now he just seemed conflicted. His body language was stuck in a loop between embarrassed, and changing signs she couldn’t keep up with. The warmth of his palm resting on her side fidgeted uneasily.

“You are quite the comedian, little lady,” the man chuckled. “Keep your secrets, then. I’m terribly sorry if I scared you at all, miss. I hadn’t seen you here before. I thought you may be some nobility or princess from another country before I saw your garments-”

A mortified red glow burned the sorceress’ face instantly, and made her ears feel hot. She didn’t hear the next few words the man said as her ears rang. This was humiliating.

Amon’s hand stopped wriggling to pull her closer. Possessively closer. Clearing his throat, he cut in with a sharpness in his tone that made both her and the man jump: “We’re in a bit of a hurry, actually. It was nice to see you again, but we must congregate with our companions. Enjoy your function.”

“I… Yes of course…” the elderman mumbled, seemingly dumbfounded by Amon’s bluntness as he gently guided Essie away.

Bewildered herself, Essie gazed up at Amon. He licked his lips, as he did when he was nervous. She continued staring with a puzzled expression as they blended further into some of the murmuring guests. Only once they appeared well out of earshot of the man, and most others, did he manage to gruffly find his voice.

“I’m sorry you had to endure that.”

“It’s… alright.” She blinked. “Are you alright?”

Amon exhaled heavily, his mouth turned down and eyes downcast. Sometimes he proved to still surprise her. Moments like these, she couldn’t quite latch on to the shifts in his mood. Whatever made him act out so suddenly?

“I’m fine.”

You’re not. She bit her tongue, though. This environment didn’t seem the place to poke the bear, so to speak.

Coming to a pause near a column; left somewhat out of view because of it, they both released relieved sighs. Realizing suddenly that he still had his arm wrapped intimately around her, Amon cleared his throat awkwardly, and gingerly began to pull his hand back.

Feeling the blossom of her blush grow hotter, Essie reached down to tenderly lay her hand upon his retreating one.

A ragged, throaty gasp; barely audible, escaped him.

Cautious; and with a delicate care that made her heart flutter and do backflips, her nobleman carefully cradled his hand against waist once more, settling the warmth of his arm across her lower back. Such simple contact shouldn’t be as thrilling as it was. Her insides felt like they were wax to his flame; melting her entirely as she rested her hand to the back of his. When she inched a little closer to his side for comfort; for that reassurance she craved and the security he provided, he began to breathe again. It startled her just a little; how long had he been holding his breath for?

Unconscious of herself, Essie pressed her hip into Amon’s. He was rigid, then he would breath, and his body seemed to tremble just the slightest. Glancing up with worry, she rested her cheek against his shoulder, and the thick fur mantle that lay upon it.

He didn’t look at her. Almost… almost refused to.

Dejected, she sank her teeth into her lower lip. Did she pull away? Was she doing something wrong? Was this too much? Was she too much? Was this not…

She reached for his face, slowly. Left him time to see her shaky fingers, hoping not to startle him. Something in her was waiting for the unavoidable: the flinch, the curled lip of disgust, something to give away that this was not what he wanted. That she was… not wanted.

He must have caught sight of her fingertips out of the corner of his eye, because his pupils shifted. He turned his face gradually; hesitantly. His eyes traveled from her fingers, down her arm, to her face.

She was so close. He was so close.

Amon turned towards her, licking his lips, his mouth opening tentatively-

“Amon, Essie-”

Her fingertips nearly grazed his beard; he had tilted his face towards her touch, and she flinched away before making contact just as he jerked backwards in alarm. His arm pulled free from her side, and in a flash, she saw his other arm. He’d been reaching for her? She’d been so focused on his face. How unfair for someone to be so handsome; to have such magnetizing eyes and such a well-sculpted face and lovely mouth and such warmth.

She inhaled sharply, realizing she hadn’t been breathing properly so suddenly. Everything felt… like a rush. The sudden dullness of the world returning anew was nearly a headache. It had been so easy to forget, staring at Amon. So unnervingly easy.

She thought how he stepped up to make her feel more comfortable. She thought of his touch. She thought of how warm he was; of his smile, how much of a weirdo he sometimes was and how goofy his jokes could be. He was brave, and smart, and altogether simply a wonderful friend, true and loyal and kind; and a comfortable presence. A safe haven, if you will. Everything about him absolutely filled her with joy to be around, and to witness.

Still trying to recover from his charm and the allure that captivated them, Essätha looked helplessly back up at Amon.

Tiny twitches. Little breaks here and there through the mask, trying to hide keep his own shock under control. He nodded to their teammate who had come barreling over to get them; the only one of the pair of them who had the sense to pay attention to what was being said.

Defeated, her eyes traveled down to his hand. There was a loneliness in her own, wanting to belong somewhere again.

She’d been so close. A tongue-twist away. How badly she wanted to say it, if only to alleviate the ache in her chest when she simply looked at him, or thought of him. Wanting was a dangerous game, though. Once she said it, there would be no reclaiming it. And what if, for her every hope, for the moments she could swear she felt or saw something… she was wrong?

Her hand fidgeted uneasily. Clenched, then released. She looked numbly up to their comrade as they made a gesture to follow them. It was all she could make out; not their words or the movement of their mouth at all. She felt strangely… disconnected, and numb.

Essie stepped forward, intending to follow, when she felt the familiar jolt again. A lightning strike; or magma bubbling up in her veins.

Her gaze slid down to catch Amon’s furious fingers, barely grasping to hers.

She looked up at him. He did not look at her, but his face was tinted once more a pinkish hue.

Silently, she accepted his hand, gently embracing his fingers. If this was all she could have, she would take what she could.

Her head raised confidently, a flash of surprise came and went over her expression. The light contact seemed unfitting for him, as the nobleman wrapped his fingers along hers, and squeezed firmly. He held to her still with a sort of forlorn, wanting desperation even once he managed to loosen his grip a little.

Swallowing, Essie returned the pressure to assure him she was there.

She did not catch the way he gazed at her, longingly and slack-jawed, as they stopped before their friends, ready to hear what they’d learned.

[inviouswriting]

Playtime

This is going to be pure smut.

Took me years to want to touch these subjects again. But glad to have had time to write this. Thank you to those who read my stories!

This is also going to have some heavier sex themes to it.

BDSM, wax and temperature play, sensory deprovision (blindfold), spankings, master/slave elements. Safewords, petplay, anal, orgasm denial and dirty talk. If those are not your thing. Then it might be best to avoid this one.

Aymeric x Kiya.

“Checkmate!” Aymeric exclaims, he looks up at his beloved with a big grin on his face. Kiya looks at the board and scowls brief at losing. He has gotten better at winning. He seems to win more when there are bigger stakes to win.

Kiya looks up at Aymeric and  sits back in her seat. It is early in the day, and they were deciding what kind of fun they would be having. The house was excused of all staff, because Aymeric had things in mind that he did not fit just the bedroom. He wanted her in the main parts of his house.

Aymeric gets up brief and leaves the room to collect a box for Kiya. He gives it to her, with a reassuring smile.

“Please go put this on for me. All of it, and come to me to tie the back.” Something new from the maid outfit he loves on her. Kiya nods and takes the box to go put on the number he has prepared for her. Aymeric works the room a bit and pushes the dining table back enough so what he has in store is comfortable. He also looks at the table and sizes himself on it to see if he’ll be able to do a few of the fantasies he has.

He lights a full candle one in blue wax and leaves it on the burner to melt. He also sets up a blindfold and a few other things. Soft rope, when he has everything prepared. He sees Kiya poke her head back in.

“Aymeric? Are you sure about this one?” She feels embarrassed at what she is wearing. He beckons her out to show him, and he already feels his mouth water at how she looks. 

Kiya is dressed in a blue lace bra and panty with side ties. The panty is sheer, the bra cups and accents Kiya nicely. Aymeric smiles and has her turn around so he can see the back of it. The back part of the panty is thin, her rear easily seen. Long gold ribbons hang just under her tail. He takes the ribbon and weaves it on her tail tying a bow at the end of her tail. Kiya understanding why he wanted to tie it for her.

“My love. Are you up for a bit of rougher play? and roles tonight?” He asks, his hands ghosting up her back waiting for her consent to begin. Aymeric leans in and presses kisses along her neck.

“You rougher? Yes. I am up for it tonight.” Kiya melts into his tender touch. She feels his kisses and smiles at how gentle he always seemed to be. She knows well there is more underneath his skin. The times where they have been intimate with roleplaying he has gotten into his role well.

“Thank you my love. We will establish two safewords. If it is too intense my dear and you want to full stop. Garuda will be that word. If you need something, like water, a moment to breathe, food, or anything as such. Solace will be the word. Sound fair my love?” Aymeric has moved in front of her and raises her head to look at him as they establish their safewords. Kiya understanding that their play will be something she enjoys.

“Agreed. Garuda to stop, Solace for needs.” Aymeric caresses the side of her face and gently kisses her in agreement to their pact. Kiya returns his kiss and is tugged closer to deepen it. Aymeric guides her head back as he touches the side of her face tapping her jaw to open her mouth. Once she does Aymeric slips his tongue into her mouth to find hers and draw her into a dance.

Kiya touches his and chases after the faint sweetness from the birch syrup. Kiya feels his fingers slip into her hair and run through the silky soft texture. Aymeric’s other hand goes to her shoulder and glides down it running the pads of his fingers along her skin. He loves to feel her skin, she is always soft to his touch. He tends to help with that softness in using salamander oil steeped with a fragrance they both enjoy in vanilla.

Aymeric breaks the kiss and lingers his lips against hers chaste. Her lips still parted as he gently takes her bottom lip between his teeth to tug, always mindful to never break skin. Kiya leans in towards him following his lead, she feels his hands grip her breasts and squeeze teasing. He pulls back full to look her in her eyes, eyes alive in the permissions he is given.

“From here out, the title I want you to use with me is Ser Aymeric. And I shall be calling you as I always do. My Love. Agreed?” Aymeric ghosts his hands down from her breasts to her back at her hips giving them a squeeze. He enjoys the lingerie he has her in. He always wraps her in his colors wherever he can.

“Agreed, Ser Aymeric.” She purrs to him and earns a smile from him. He tilts her head back up to his bringing one hand back up to do so and gives her a light kiss.

“Thank you, My Love for this. Now. I want you to get onto the edge of the table on your hands and knees for me. Facing away.” Aymeric gives her a quick kiss, his hands in her hair petting her head as he speaks lovingly to her.

“Yes, Ser Aymeric.” She smiles and returns the kiss, leaning into his hands on her head specially when he pets her ears making her almost melt to his touch. He always uses his touch to convey his true feelings with her whenever they did this. His eyes are gentle as they regard her with a nod.

Kiya follows the command and carefully jumps up onto the dining table. She stretches her form out and keeps her head straight. She noticed Aymeric covered the table in a sheet, to probably keep her from gouging the wood with her nails. She also notes the fireplace lit to keep the chill of the outside from seeping in.

Aymeric takes in the sight of his beloved on the very table they had meals together and talked of peace and prosperity. How it started to bloom their relationship further. Three years since then, two from her traveling and saving nations and worlds. One for them to actually live a married life.

Aymeric moves from his spot, he is dressed down a bit more in a pair of black pants and one of the blue cloth shirts he wears underneath his armors. He trails his fingers along Kiya’s right foot, earning her toes curling, he touches along her ankle and following the curve of her leg to her thigh.

Kiya is a sight to behold in such a manner. On her knees, dressed scantily for his eyes only, and he can see the light pink of her cheeks from him staring at her. The sheer fabric of the panty lets him see her slit through it. The cups of the bra on her are the same.

Aymeric drinks in the sight, as his hand finishes its travel up her thigh to the base of her tail. His fingers touch along the base of it, circling around knowing exactly what it does to her. Having learned her tail as a hot spot back when they were just courting. When he had his first permission to touch her intimate.

Kiya bites her bottom lip and keeps her head straight to avoid glancing over at him. She feels his fingers slip under the thin strip of the panty and tugs up drawing a gasp out of her when the fabric rides up her slit. He lets go and tugs them to see both of her entrances using his hands to spread her apart.

“You are absolutely beautiful love. And all mine to see like this.” Aymeric lets go and moves his hands to touch along the small of her back. He has touched her many times, but when given the chance to roam over her, he does not miss a chance to simply appreciate her. Kiya intakes a breath of air as his hands spread her apart then lets go.  She yelps out when she feels his hand give a playful smack to her rear. She instantly looks over her shoulder, she catches his smirk.

“Keep your eyes forward My Love.” He chides  with a hint of amusement in his voice and does it again, a little rougher trying out different degrees of force. Kiya feels her face burning at being scolded in such a manner. But what was more is the spanks were doing something to her. She yelps again when one particular rough smack catches her off guard.

“Solace!” Her legs shake from the treatment, and she twitches her tail annoyed. Aymeric catches on and rubs her flesh in apology, but can’t help but be slightly amused at the red tinge from his handprints. Kiya lowers her front onto her arms, raising her rear a bit more.

“Did that hurt My Love?” He checks in, and places kisses over the smacks. His lips find the side of the panty, his teeth snagging one of the ties holding it in place and starts to tug on it. She is like a special gift wrapped package for him to pull the ribbon off himself. He appreciates her whenever she endures his costumes and teasing. He does reward her well with pleasure.

“It did, Aymeric. I do not like the rough ones. Gentle please?” He knows she is not one for pain, and hearing her, he rubs her stinging flesh more knowing it did hurt.

“I am sorry, Kiya.” He uses her name when she vocalizes something she didn’t like. To take her preferences in and apply it. He even leans over to give her a sweet kiss, pressing his forehead to hers to show her he heard her.

“You okay to continue?” He checks giving her more sweet kisses to make up for the rough treatment. Kiya feels reassured and nuzzles his face when he presses his cheek to hers.

“Yes. Ser Aymeric.” She uses his role name to return to play after being tended to. Aymeric gives her another sweet kiss before he straightens back up. He takes the blindfold he had laid on the table and brings it up to Kiya’s face.

Kiya nods to it and closes her eyes to let him tie it into place comfortably. When Aymeric finishes tying the blindfold he tugs her hair out from it and ghosts his hands up to pet her head running his fingers along her ears earning her content and a purr out of her. He then follows his fingers down the middle of her back, using his nails just a little to dig into her skin. Leaving fine lines, something he didn’t expect her to like so well. She raises her hips a little when his fingers dig into her rear.

Aymeric tugs the side tie he undid earlier off more giving him access to the skin at her hip. He closes the distance and places kiss after kiss along the spot following his fingers. He places a particular kiss along the fabric of the panty, nudging her legs further apart. Kiya does so, and feels him kiss along her thigh even dragging his tongue along her skin.

Kiya’s skin feels on fire whenever he does this, and feels him kiss over the fabric preventing him from touching her core directly how thin it is and from him tugging it up earlier. He avoids it and kisses down her left thigh leaving a bite mark along it. He bites hard enough to leave the indent of his teeth. Kiya feels a kiss on the mark before he travels back up her thigh to place sweet kisses along her folds.

Aymeric tilts his head to the side as he drags his tongue along the outer folds using his tongue to rub it along the edge till he can taste her. Kiya feels his lips against her core, and he uses them to spread her open while his tongue delves in between her folds pushing the thin fabric in with his tongue.

Kiya lets out a moan at his tongue pushing barely into her, and a frustrated sigh escapes her when he pulls his mouth away. He avoids her core in favor of running his tongue along her clit over the fabric. Kiya jumps at the sensation of his hot tongue against her. She digs her nails into the sheet when he flicks his tongue over the nub till it hardens under his tongue.

“There we are.” He smiles to himself and blows on her aching slit knowing he has her wriled up now. He shows a little mercy and tugs aside the thin strap using it to hold open her folds. He licks his lips at seeing how wet she is getting from his teasing from his mouth. He then without hesitation presses his tongue into her as deep as it can go. He hears her moan out. She did enjoy it when he uses his mouth on her.

She feels his tongue swirl just right and she does everything in her power to not shred the sheet under her. Just as she teeters on that edge. He stops giving a slow lick to her clit.

Kiya cries in frustration, he also loved to deny her release until she begged for it. Kiya feels Aymeric remove himself from her entirely, and walk away, the soft padding of his feet on the floor tells her where he is. She strains an ear to listen to what he is doing. A shuffling of clothing, removing his, then the sound of metal being picked up.

Two things are set onto the table, and she wonders what they are. She smells something sweet and guesses a candle. He did have one burning when she came back to the room. She didn’t have to guess, a nibbling kiss is started on one of her ears.

“My Love, let me know if it is too hot.” He hints to what he is doing, and she nods understanding he was checking with her out of the role. She feels him undo the bra and tugging it off of her. She lets him pull it off and hear it be tossed somewhere. The panty follows, she feels him rub his hands on her skin then tug at the ribbon on her tail till it is freed.

Aymeric moves her hair off her back and takes time to braid it over to prevent it from getting wax in it. Carefully he picks up the burning candle enough wax had melted. He turns the candle and drips from her shoulder blades down her spine. He watches her for her to reject the play, he hears her hiss from the heat.

“Does it burn you?” He asks ready to sweep the wax off her with a cloth.

“No, Ser Aymeric. It does not burn.” She answers him, and he smiles seeing she enjoys it. He drips more avoiding the base of her tail. She wriggles from the heat on her back, and more when nails scratch off the hardening wax on her skin. Aymeric notes how her legs seem to be shaking from his treatment.

“My Love? Are you excited?” Amusement in his voice. She tries to still her legs.

“A little bit, Ser Aymeric.” She confesses, knowing not to lie in these moments. Aymeric also sees along her thighs her juices dripping down them even a few stray drops directly from her the evidence just below her.

“Only a little excited? Then what is this?” He cups her spreading her folds apart with his fingers. She is wetter than she told him.

“Ahh… I seem to be wet, Ser Aymeric.” She bites back a moan when his fingers toy with her clit using her fluids to coat his fingers in.

“Seem to be wet? You are drenched. Would you like to cum?” If she is this wet, he knows she would be close to an orgasm already.

“Yes, Ser Aymeric… please.. I want to cum.” She feels her face heat up.

“Your honesty shall be rewarded, My Love. You may cum. Lie on your back first.” Aymeric smiles at her and helps her onto her back. Arranging her feet to brace on the edge of the table. He keeps the image of her blindfolded and panting in his mind. His fingers trace down her body teasing her clit before they hover along her slit. Aymeri closes his eyes as he slips his fingers into her and begins to pump them. She is hot, very hot. He curls his fingers in her and pumps them to that one spot he has touched and hit many times. He feels the change in her, her hips rising to his hand as he pushes his fingers deep. Her longer drawn out moans. He has his middle and ring finger sunk in deep and curled towards her belly.

He waits as he thrusts his hand against her, his thumb sweeping her clit. Kiya’s legs shake, and he sees her hands grip the sheet under her as a higher string of moans escapes her each with his name attached. Aymeric leans over and takes a nipple into his mouth to suck on while he pleases his wife with his hand. He takes the candle he has and blows out the flame as he drips more wax on her front avoiding sensitive areas.

Kiya feels every second of his fingers, and only when she arches off the table tells him she is close. Aymeric watches as her mouth parts and a loud moan is torn from her, he feels her walls contract around his fingers and he draws her into a full orgasm. He sees her legs shaking as it is punctuated with her cum leaking on his hand.

“Hmm… My Love. You feel good now?” He gives gentle pushes of his hand to her then withdraws his fingers bringing them up to clean them off. He loves her taste. He is hard from watching her in such a state and gets an idea. He waits for her to stop shaking from aftershocks.

“I-I feel… amazing S-Ser Aymeric.” Her voice breaks when addressing him. She feels absolute bliss, but knows the fun doesn’t stop at just his hand. No, she knows he intends to reduce her to a withering mess on the floor till his back will be scratched up.

“That is what I love to hear. My Love, you are doing great. Do you need water?” He offers. His fingers going to where he left the wax on her front and scratches it off her skin. Drawing her hips off the table.

“Yes, Ser Aymeric. Please?” Aymeric helps her sit up tugging her to him. He presses a glass to her lips and she takes a drink feeling refreshed from the screams she made. Aymeric takes his own sips of it, and leans forward to kiss her in reward for enduring him thus far.

“Full glad, My Love. Now… would you be so kind to return the pleasure I gave you?” He pecks a kiss on her forehead. His fingers sneak to her breast and grabs both breasts tweaking her nipples between his fingers. A soft moan coming from her. She is ready to continue.

“Yes, Ser Aymeric. What would you have me do?” Kiya feels a kiss on her lips again, and a nuzzle from his face. He takes time to give her affection even when he is dominant in such a way.

“My Love, I will guide you. When I do this, if you can’t breathe I want you to tap my left thigh. Understood?” Kiya nods understanding his words.

“Yes, Ser Aymeric.” She smiles and feels his against her skin on her neck.

“Very good then.” He guides her to rearrange herself on the table till she is half hanging off the table, suspended from falling by Aymeric holding her hands up. He has arranged himself with his legs parted over her. Kiya is confused on the position till she feels the flesh of his penis against her lips.

“Keep hold of my hands.” Aymeric informs her, and she understands what he is trying to do with her. Aymeric guides himself into her mouth, and Kiya tilts her head enough to be comfortable sucking on him. Her tongue playing with the head in swift sweeps, drawing moans out of him. Her tongue is rewarded with precum, and him lightly thrusting into her mouth. He grips her hands tighter to keep her in this position knowing it will be rough for her to maintain it.

Each pull back of his hips, Kiya swirls her tongue around the head of his cock then swallows him back down to the back of her throat. Till her lips meet the skin at the base. Aymeric keeps her up and watches as she takes him so well. He pulls his hips back till the head is just in her mouth. Enjoying the treatment she does on it with her tongue swirling around it and sucking just enough.

“Open your mouth, My Love.” He commands her, and she does so. Aymeric removes himself from her mouth to rearrange them. He helps her off the table and onto the floor below them. Once there, Aymeric half sits on her torso and guides his erection between her breasts. He is careful to not crush her with his weight, here she understands his words of if she can’t breathe.

Kiya indulges his fantasy, something she hasn’t even done with him was use her breasts on him. She feels his palms on both while he gently thrusts. Her face heats up again at the motion made. She feels him slide between them, and listens to his moans coming out. Kiya lowers her head enough and starts to kiss the tip or run her tongue across the head whenever it pokes up to her mouth.

Aymeric murmurs things under his breath of praises and for her to do that some more. A few movements more, and he once Kiya has him in her mouth again spills his seed into her mouth. Kiya waits to swallow it, but milks him of the rest till he tugs his cock from her mouth.

She feels a hand under her chin, and she parts her mouth to allow him to see her mouthful of his seed.

“Swallow.” Kiya does once she is told to, savoring the salty sweet flavor of him.  

Aymeric guides his hands through her hair as he gets off of her. He pulls back and reaches for the cup of water he has for them and drinks from it. He also helps her up so she can drink water herself.

Kiya once she has her fill of water, jumps when he spills the rest on her front. Earning a yelp of surprise and him chuckling over her reaction.

“Forgive me. You look great like this. My Love. Now… if you would. On your hands and knees again.” He nuzzles her face in apology for spilling the water on her. He can almost feel her glare through the blindfold.

Kiya nods and gets onto her hands and knees again. Aymeric has her scoot up a bit more till she is closer to the fireplace. Kiya feels the heat from it on her skin. She twitches an ear towards Aymeric trying to figure out what he is doing next. She feels something light dance across her skin, she fidgets from it. She feels it more on her back towards her neck. A feather.

Kiya twitches an ear when it brushes one, or shivers when he drags it from shoulder to shoulder.  Aymeric watches her tail flick when he circles it with the feather. He then drags it down her rear towards her thigh till she shakes when it brushes the back of her calf and foot.  He drags it back up the other leg retracing the path he made on the other. Kiya’s tail twitches more when he circles the edge around the base.

Aymeric takes the feather off of her, and discards it to the side. He reaches for something, and Kiya can smell the oil, a vanilla based one. He uses this for her skin and when he intends to do anal with her.

Kiya parts her legs more once she feels his fingers drip the oil along the crease of her ass. He will always prepare her properly due to his size. She bites her lip when he pushes two fingers into her, knowing she can take them with how many times they have done it this way.

Kiya lets out a moan as he pushes his fingers deep. He informed her the day before he was planning this, and to prepare for it. Aymeric drizzles more oil along his fingers to make it easier on her as he adds a third finger stretching her. Kiya pants into her arm, and feels him thrust his fingers into her in the same manner he did earlier. Ebbing off the discomfort she feels.

“Doing good with three?” Whenever he doesn’t use the role name he is genuinely checking with her comfort level.

“Yeah, I am doing good with three.” She answers him, and feels him start to prod a fourth.

“May I?” He checks knowing the stretch of four of his fingers. He leans over her and kisses the side of her neck while he preps her.

“You may. Ser Aymeric.” She feels a gentle kiss to her cheek, and he straightens back up behind her. He adds the fourth finger into her and marvels at how much she can take now. Before he could only do two fingers and of course himself. Now she takes four fingers and he sees the effect with her folds dripping again in need.

Aymeric tugs his fingers free, and reaches for the oil to coat his penis in it. Once it is well coated how he likes it to be he cleans off his fingers with the water he has near them for this purpose. He knows Kiya does not like his fingers or cock after they’ve been in her ass and respects that. He doesn’t like the idea either.

Once he prepares himself further, he urges Kiya onto her back and raises her hips to his. Aymeric reaches behind her head, and takes off her blindfold. Kiya opens her eyes to see Aymeric’s smile as he settles between her legs. He lines himself to her ass and gently pushes into her.

He tugged the blindfold off to see her eyes widen at the feel of him in her. The wide eyes, her mouth open in a moan when he buries deep. He looks between them and uses one of his hands to part her folds further seeing how she almost gushes.

“Hmm, My Love. Play with yourself.” He says as he starts to thrust into her. Kiya nods and does as instructed. Her fingers going to her slit and buries her fingers in as far as they can go thrusting them in time to the pace he sets.

Kiya feels hot from her body, she aches for him. Aymeric pushes harder into her enjoying the way she feels around him. Kiya’s fingers bury deep to wet her fingers then press at her clit rubbing it in circles as he thrusts into her. She never understood why she got so wet from him doing her anally. Her back arches off the floor and moans fall, she teeters on that edge.

“Stop.” Kiya sobs out in frustration, pulling her hand away. Aymeric does not still himself, but keeps going.

“Do not cum. Hold back. While I tease you. My Love.” Kiya hears his tone, playful. His other favorite play with her. Edging. Increases her endurance with him to last longer.

“Yes, Ser Aymeric!!!” Kiya manages out. Aymeric takes over rubbing her slit. His fingers busy themselves in quick presses of his fingers. Kiya moans out underneath him, his thrusts are harder in her till she almost bounces from each push in.

Aymeric sees her about to lose it, but her legs shake and she moans out as she holds back from his teasing.

“By the Fury you are just so beautiful like this.” He comments on how she looks. He keeps rubbing her clit till she arches her back close, then stops his fingers only to plunge them into her.

“Aymeric!!!!!” Kiya shouts out his name, and pants into her hands as she covers her mouth to keep from screaming. Aymeric sees her shaking again, small trembles in her hands and legs. She is doing her best to hold her orgasm back. It is hard when his fingers reach so much deeper than hers and his thrusts in her ass do not help.

“Yes? My Love? Got something you want to ask me? I am listening.”  Aymeric regards her with a smile, while she shudders under from his fingers pumping into her again. His thumb teasing her clit.

“Ser Aymeric! Please! I want to cum!! Let me cum!” She pleads him, she feels herself on that edge again.

“Hmm… cum how, My Love? On my hand? From my mouth?” Aymeric pulls his dick out of her ass, and reaches for a cloth rag to clean himself off. Knowing she isn’t going to last another romp after this. He rather cum inside her anyway.

“On your cock! Please! Fuck me!” Kiya pleads more, and Aymeric circles the head of his penis at her entrance. An audible purr coming from him.

“Fuck you how? Gently? Hard? Rough? You are hot… so damn hot.” Aymeric bites his bottom lip feeling how heated her core is at the head of his cock.

“Please! Aymeric! I need you in me now! Fuck me! Please!” Kiya sees him mull it in his head. Then sits there with his cock pressed against her slit. Just waiting for her to correct herself.

“You did not answer me. My Love. How do you want me?” He rocks his hips against hers, teasing her with guiding his penis along her wet folds. Hissing himself at how he ached for her.

“Please! Ser Aymeric! Fuck me hard!” Aymeric hears her, and on the draw back of his hips, he pushes into her. He moans out feeling her so hot inside. He draws a loud moan out of Kiya and waits a moment as he seats himself fully into her. Waiting.

When she squirms underneath him, he draws back fully almost pulling the head out then plunges back into her. She felt good to him, very good. He draws cry after cry out of her. He himself leans over her and claims her lips in a full kiss muffling some of her moans by swallowing them.

Kiya clings to him, her nails going into his back so deep he knows he will need a salve on them. Aymeric hisses when he feels her nails drag down when he hits a particular spot inside her. She moves her hands from his back to not gouge his skin, and he places kisses on her shoulder in thanks.

“That’s it My Love, take me further in you. Endure me!” He murmurs into her ear as he shifts himself to fit deeper. Kiya whines into his chest, he understands the feeling she has. No matter how many times he has taken her, he is still a stretch to fit at the base.

“Aymeric! Please!!” She feels her legs sore already. Kiya sees a look in Aymeric’s eyes that tells her he knows. He slows down and pulls himself out of her. Kiya looks at him confused till he flips her onto her side and raises her left leg with his own. He guides himself back into her, and holds her better to him. The angle on their sides proving to be better for her to receive him.

Kiya tilts her head back against his chest, and feels him kiss the top of her head then move to nibble on an ear as he drives himself deeper.

“There we go, feeling better like this?” He checks with her. She nods and he goes harder again while his hand underneath her grasps a breast to squeeze. Kiya moves her left arm to reach up to his ear to pet it. Earning him smiling against her ear as his eyes watch their movements.

He pushes hard and deep, still marvels at how someone small can fit every inch of him. Kiya pushes her hips down with his into her and has a relaxed smile on her face. She was close, and he felt it in the way she twitches around him.

“Come on, Kiya, Come on. Cum for me. Cum on me.” He murmurs into her ear as he thrusts even harder till he sees that glossy eyed stare, her ears flattening against her head, and mouth parted in a cry. Aymeric lets go of her leg to reach down and rub her clit to draw it out of her.

“There we are, my beautiful love. Endure me, endure me more.” He praises and encourages her. Kiya reaches it after the combined pressure of his fingers on her clit and his cock hitting that one spot. She cries out and shoves herself down on him as she cums with a gush. Her moans are needy and breathy.

He feels her tightening on him, and thrusts a bit more till his own orgasm hits and he buries deep in small short thrusts as he fills her full. His mouth finds her neck and he sucks a kiss mark into her collarbone, then leaves another on her shoulder biting it.

Aymeric holds her up in his arms, feeling her black out. He kisses all over her face as he keeps himself seated within her. The way her body grips him makes it hard to pull without hurting her. He lets her rest against his chest till she comes back around.

He sees her eyes, still gone and chuckles as he knows she is in pure heaven from the orgasm he gave her.

“Kiya, my dear. Kiya.” Aymeric nuzzles her face, and sees her coming back down to earth. Her eyes look at him, and he is warm with his smile.

“How do you feel?”  He doesn’t get much of a reply out of her. A sigh and a slurred sentence of her feeling amazing. He regards her eyes again checking to see if she is love drunk. A state he tends to reduce her to. He sees her blush and look away. She is.

“Alright my love, once more.” He helps her onto her knees, and pulls himself from her. His fingers find their way into her and begins to pump them hard and fast into that spot from earlier.

Kiya moans out and her hands scramble in front of herself till she buries her face into her arms and lets out her moans. He only has to hear her moans for a little before he’s hard again, and tugging his fingers free to push his penis back into her.

He is a lot more gentle with this one, but thrusts deep as he rolls his hips forward. Kiya mewls out her pleasure, and he listens to her pleas. He goes faster but keeps the pace till she shudders under him.

Another series of cries from her and she shivers in another lighter orgasm. Bringing her senses back and out of that love drunk state. He finishes within her and leans over her back pushing her down onto the floor.

Aymeric showers her face from the side in an onslaught of kisses and nuzzles. The play over, and he begins his aftercare. He hears her laugh and smiles against her cheek as he keeps pressing them to her face. Kiya feels relaxed, and well loved. Feeling his kisses on her makes it even better.

She purrs loud when his hands rub her shoulders and back. She feels him pull out of her and flips her onto her back to kiss her properly.

“Was I good, Kiya?” He questions, regarding her with gentleness and love in his eyes.

“You are amazing Aymeric.” She threads her fingers into his hair and messes his perfect bangs up. He retaliates by ruffling her hair up to match the dishelved appearance.

“You sore at all? Does it hurt anywhere?” He looks over her, noticing the bite on her shoulder.

“Nothing a few potions won’t help. I kind of like the bite mark though.” She rarely gets him to bite her. He does not like inflicting pain if he can help it.

“Full glad then.” He checks over her for anything out of place. He does note her knees and elbows are rug burned a little. Aymeric leaves her arms to go grab a fresh wash cloth and begins to clean her up and himself. Specially any remaining wax on her skin.

Aymeric pulls her into his arms after wrapping a robe around her and himself. He gives her a full glass of water, and comfort foods in something to nibble on. He lifts her to carry her back to their room to set her on the bed. Kiya settles into the blankets and half hisses from the sting in her rear from the spanks and him doing her anally.

Aymeric sees this and fits in next to her. He presses more kisses on her neck and face. Burying his face into her neck.

“You have made me happy, my love. You endured me well. Sorry if I was too rough in areas.” He says this and rubs her rear where he had spanked her.

“I forgive you. You got caught up in the moment.” She smiles up at him turning towards him. His eyes beam happiness for her. She notes the scratches on his shoulders.

“I’ll put that salve on your back when I can move better.” Kiya reaches a hand up to him, Aymeric takes her hand and kisses her fingers and rubs her hand in his.

“Thank you, my dear. It does not sting, You did well in taking your hands off me when your feelings got intense.” Aymeric praises her more, and kisses her hand again.

“Let me go put things back in order in the other room and I’ll come back to cuddle you more?” He feels her fingers play with his bottom lip. He playfully bites them then lets go to take care of the other room.

He pushes the table back in place, and cleans off the sheet from the table and over the carpet. Aymeric returns to Kiya shortly after and fits into the bed, pulling her into his arms nuzzling her.

He notes her hands still tremble a bit from her orgasms earlier. He feels proud of making her feel that way.

“You tired? Hungry at all? I’ll make you something.” Kiya nods, and Aymeric presses his forehead to hers waiting for her to tell him what she needs.

“Popato soup and more water?” Kiya is kissed again, and he stays with her till she falls asleep in his arms. His hands rubbing her shoulders soothing.

When she is sound asleep for now, he slips out to go make her and himself food.

Aymeric peers into the room and sees how his wife has taken over the pillows and blankets. A smile on his face, he couldn’t have asked for someone so perfect in his life.

He presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She says half asleep.