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lovelylogans · 4 years ago

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i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now)

warnings: vampires (blood drinking mentioned), alcohol consumption, food mentions, cuddling, kissing, death mentions, if i’ve missed any please let me know!

pairing: logan/patton

word count: 6,003

notes: for @fangirltothefullest for our discord server’s secret santa! prompted with “Preferably logan-centric and fluffy! Logicality would be great! Logince would also be good. Maybe some cute cuddles by a fireplace?” title is from ��baby it’s cold outside!” the idea of vampires being able to eat red food comes from a book i remember reading as a kid, but i cannot place the title, so if anyone knows it please let me know!

Hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps and Bailey’s, it turns out, is a particularly adept calmative.

It’s made the world go hazy and lovely and beautiful, and that’s even before Logan acknowledges the way his eyes are half-lidded and he’s leaning his head a bit more against the side of his wingback armchair than he would if he were entirely sober.

Logan narrows his eyes down at his mug, the one Roman had wheel-thrown and painted him with the chemical illustration of the molecular construction of caffeine on it, which is half-drained, the whipped cream and marshmallows melted, the peppermint stick meant to stir already losing its red stripes. Logan plucks it from the mug and sticks it into his mouth, crunching it, wriggling in the armchair to get more comfortably seated, and to get a better view.

Roman, Janus, Virgil, and Patton have long since been occupied with a board game; Remus left to do whatever it is that Remus does at night, probably screaming profanities at random passerby, so it’s just the five of them left. The Christmas party’s been winding down slowly for the past hour or so, the fireplace still crackling but burning lower and lower, their hot chocolate supply depleted, and Roman and Virgil’s fits of competitiveness losing fervor as the moon creeps higher and higher in the sky. The white of the waxing moon peeks out against the clouds that distribute the fat, fluffy flakes falling from the sky.

The snow catches the light of the Christmas lights hung outside the house (goodness, hadn’t that been a trying day) so the snow gleams in technicolor reflection, the rest of the world lit by the hazy orange glow of the street lamps. It is very beautiful, and Logan, in an unusually sentimental fit that he would tell himself in the morning was brought on by the alcohol, is incredibly grateful to be alive, at this precise moment, that allows him the company of such wonderful friends in such a beautiful world.

What a statistically improbable event they all are. What an outright scientifically impossible group they all make—a vampire, a set of twins that turned out to be a banshee and a siren, a selkie, and two humans. Three years ago Logan would have scoffed at the idea of any sort of supernatural, mythical humanoid, much less even suspected he’d meet them. And now he is in love with one, and is best friends with the others, and his life is so strange, so odd, so wonderful.

Logan comes back into himself when Roman cries out in protest, making Logan’s ears ring unpleasantly, as Janus crows in victory, holding the longest road card aloft, the dark gray seal-skin on his face gleaming pearlescent in the firelight.

“Cheater!” Roman accuses, his voice still maintaining that double-pitch—a high keen layered over Roman’s typically pleasant baritone—that always makes something in Logan’s head throb.

“Just because you didn’t strategize your road properly,” Janus gloats, pointing—and yes, the yellow road winding around the edge of Catan is decidedly longer than the red road circling over itself in the middle.

All the while, Virgil is muttering darkly about how useless the Largest Army card has been, tossing it aside, and Patton looks up at Logan, dark eyes glinting brightly in amusement, freckles speckled across his face like constellations, trying his best to hide his smile around the specially-ordered red-dominant candy canes he’s been eating all season, his fangs gleaming white, freed from the fake teeth Patton usually wears to pass as human, his lips tinged artificially red.

Logan feels even warmer all over at the sight of him.

Patton’s eyes get even brighter, and he flashes a sweet smile at Logan before he turns back to the board game and breaks up the squabbling with patient declarations of “Everyone did a really great job!” and “The fun’s what matters, right?” and being so stubborn and relentless in his optimism and platitudes that Janus and Roman relent and grumble grudging “good game”s at each other.

Patton’s far more patient than the pair of them—which makes sense, as he’s been practicing at it since the seventeenth century, according to all their estimations surrounding the first edition of Human Understanding he’d acquired the month after he’d been turned, in a fit of uncharacteristically dark humor—so he always wins out when it comes to digging in his heels and cheerfully going about something with the consistency of the little bird and the diamond mountain.

Roman ducks out to sulk for a moment, under the excuse of adjusting Patton’s painstakingly maintained gramophone he’d bought in the 1920s—he still has the early prototype phonograph he bought in the 1870s, but that one is even more painstakingly preserved in the rooms full of obsolete technologies, clothes, and knick-knacks that Patton’s accrued and hoarded throughout the years like a magpie—and the sound of Bing Crosby crackles to life in the next room, crooning “White Christmas,” the snapping of the fire providing unintentionally harmonious percussion. Logan wouldn’t be surprised if this is one of the original vinyls, too—Patton’s got loads of vintage music from artists Logan had never even heard of before.

Janus bows out, next, content to allow the high of his victory usher him out the door. He even allows Patton to fuss over ensuring his coat is warm enough to protect him from the snow, considering he’s wearing his sealskin coat and not a proper winter coat, and then even lets him fret over Janus staying moisturized, despite the fact that both Janus and Logan have attempted to explain that Janus’ version of moisturized and the human version of moisturized are quite different in execution, one being smearing lotion all over oneself and the other consisting of sealing himself into his skin and taking a dip in the nearest ocean.

Logan mentally backtracks over the previous sentence and immediately blames Patton for the pun, and simultaneously promises himself to never utter it in Patton’s presence. Patton still brings up the time Logan had accidentally mentioned Patton sinking his teeth into something, and can hardly finish recounting it before bursting into giggles. He is fortunate he is so adorable, otherwise it would irk Logan to no end. As it is, when it happens, Logan can’t summon up anything stronger than resigned affection.

He’s in love with a vampire who is currently fretting over a selkie with the exact air of a concerned father. It’s a fate he’s all too eagerly accepted.

Janus usually gets snappy about being mother-henned, so Logan suspects that either the Bailey’s has done a number on him, or the Christmas sentimentality is getting to him.

And, considering that Janus had one mug of mulled wine with dinner, Logan has a fairly good guess as to which is the root cause—especially taking into consideration Janus allows Patton to hug him goodbye. Janus wishes him a happy Christmas in a tone that is not quite as drawlingly dramatic as usual.

By then, the gramophone is playing a new song, a soprano prettily warbling “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and Roman seems to be over his discontent over losing because he joins in, singing pleasantly rather than shrieking—he usually leaves the wailing to the banshee in the family, it’s just that the whole “drawing men to their deaths” aspect of his voice emerges when his temper flares—and Logan swallows down the sudden lump in his throat at the sound of it.

Of course, Roman’s voice is supernaturally exquisite, but there’s something different about it now; Roman had tried enchanting Logan, exactly once, after Logan had pestered him for weeks out of scientific curiosity, so he can say with certainty that this isn’t like the captivating sound that put him in a stupor with the speed and subtlety of being hit by a train, but it’s like someone has captured the flame in the fireplace and tempered it to a temperature that a human could stand, the cozy sensation of being beside a fire rather than the fire itself, and set it directly inside his heart.

You’re happy, a sober corner of his brain says dryly. You know this, you’re happy.

He is.

He is stupidly, incandescently, absolutely happy.

He will blame the dryness of the room from the fire for the sudden wetness in his eyes when Virgil joins in, usually quite shy about singing, but it is almost equally as pleasant as Roman’s, even though Virgil’s vocal chords (and the rest of Virgil) were entirely, completely, mortally human.

They are excellent, the pair of them. Not just their voices, but them, as people—they are excellent. Logan is exceptionally glad to have made their companionship.

Logan takes a deep breath, downs the last half of his hot chocolate, and launches himself from his armchair, perhaps a bit wobblier than he was at the start of the night, and Roman laughs without halting his song, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulder to steady him.

He can only join in for the last part of the song, which is probably for the best; Logan supposes his voice is tolerable enough, but it surely cannot compare to a siren, or to Virgil’s voice, rumbling like thunder. Also, he does not want to make a fool of himself, and surely singing more Christmas carols than necessary while not entirely sober would be a surefire way to do that.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Patton watching the three of them, a fond expression on his face, even if there is a flash of sudden gloom that passes over his face as the three of them sing “ Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow,” and Logan frowns to himself, noting it.

Intellectually, he is aware of the various burdens an immortal life forces upon its receiver; Patton has hundreds if not thousands of sketchings and, when the technology became available, photographs of people he had known through the hundreds of years of his life, painstakingly filed away.

Intellectually, he is aware that Patton was the source of unexpected windfalls that had been bestowed on Virgil’s family throughout the years, the reason Virgil and his siblings could afford to go to college; it is only after he and Virgil knew who Patton truly was that they found the reason behind the luck that struck his family once a generation. Patton had once been Virgil’s great-great-great-grandmother Violetta’s dearest friend, and she his; he’s been anonymously helping the descendants of all his friends in a similar manner for centuries.

Intellectually. He is aware that Patton fears the day that he will lose them all, and he will be left alone, unchanged, eternally in his late twenties, as he has been for centuries.

It is different to be intellectually aware of something, and to remember seeing Patton show Virgil the portrait he had personally painted of Violetta and choke back his tears because he’d missed her so much, and meeting and befriending Virgil had been a bit like having a piece of her back in his life again, and getting to know you has been such a gift, such a blessing. She would have adored you, as I do, and then Virgil had hugged him, and Patton had gotten so overcome he had not been able to say much else.

It is this memory plucking at his heartstrings that sends him stumbling in Patton’s direction.

Patton moves so quickly that Logan’s eyes can’t track it; one moment he was watching the three of them, the next he’s caught Logan around the waist, smiling down at him.

“Hi,” Patton says, and Logan takes a half-step closer to wrap his arms around Patton’s neck.

“Hello,” Logan says. He is about to attempt to say something that is emotionally adept, he really is, except Patton’s skin is smooth and cold under his fingers, and his lips are still tinged red, and Patton’s eyes dart down to Logan’s lips and then looks him in the eye and then he smiles, and any particularly subtle ideas about how to probe Patton’s emotions or perhaps to get him to stop thinking about the curse of bearing witness to the passage of time entirely flee his mind.

He barely has enough time to hope that Patton’s mind is similarly empty before Patton meets him halfway, pressing his lips against Logan’s; even though they’ve been together for years, Logan still isn’t quite used to the chill of Patton’s lips meeting his own. It makes him shiver every time.

Patton is always so sweet, so soft—Logan thinks only part of that is that he is a vampire afraid of hurting his comparatively delicate human lover, and the majority of it is because Patton strives to be sweet and soft as a default state of being, because he is a person who understands that kindness is not a state of being but constantly, consciously making mindful choices to be kind—and his kisses reflect that about him.

He almost always tastes of mint, because Logan had established early that he was perfectly fine with Patton drinking blood, he would not be facing secondary exposure to someone else’s blood, absolutely not, he holds a less than zero amount of desire to become an amateur hematologist through taste, and so Patton was incredibly scrupulous about brushing his teeth after consuming the blood he’d procured through a source of his in blood donation.

Patton tastes of peppermint now, and Logan sighs into the kiss, lips parting, and he feels the slightest, teasing pinprick of fangs against that sends a thrill zipping down his spine, and—

“And that’s our cue to leave!” Roman bellows with good humor; Logan turns to scowl at him over his shoulder anyways.

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Patton begins, brow creasing ever so slightly.

“Yeah, we do,” Virgil says, an edge of a laugh in his voice. “Besides, us humans have to sleep.”

Patton usually forgets about this; he doesn’t necessarily need to sleep, but he can. Logan knows of at least three decade-long naps that Patton’s taken; he has next to no memories of the foundation of the United States, because he was snoozing for the vast majority of the buildup to the Revolutionary War and the establishment of the government afterwards.

He is, though, content to lie in a bed he’d bought for Logan’s use as Logan dozes throughout the night; sometimes Logan wakes up to Patton propped up on an elbow, looking at him with an expression in his eyes that is a bizarre mixture of fondness and jealousy.

Patton nods and says wisely, “Or else Santa won’t come to your house.”

Virgil snorts, “Yeah, that’s why.”

“I’ll have you know that Nikolass’ a close personal friend of mine,” Patton sniffs, “and it is a very long way from Gemile.”

“North Pole,” Virgil corrects. “Santa lives at the North Pole.”

“Mm,” Patton says neutrally.

“Patton, did you really know St. Nick?” Roman demands.

“No, no, you’re right,” Patton sighs, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Far too late for you mortals. Off to bed, then, and don’t forget to leave him some börek!”

“ Milk and cookies,” Virgil says, he and Roman now wearing twin expressions of desperate curiosity. Logan, who knows when St. Nick supposedly lived, keeps silent.

“He prefers börek,” Patton says, his nose twitching, a telltale sign he’s holding in laughter. “It’s traditional, where he’s from. Leave him a note that old Patton remembers him, it’ll earn you börek points!”

“Brownie points,” Virgil corrects again, “Patton, did you actually know Santa Claus—”

Patton bursts into giggles, unable to hold up the ruse for very long.

“The figure we know today as St. Nicholas of Myra lived in the 300s,” Logan explains. “He predates Patton by thirteen hundred years, approximately.”

“I can’t believe you fell for that!” Patton cackles, eyes bright, making him look as young as his face presents him to be.

“Yeah, okay,” Virgil says, as Patton pulls Roman into a hug, “you say that like it’s entirely unbelievable when you’ve shown us paintings of you and other completely unreal people like Maid Marian—”

“Aw, I miss her,” Patton says.

“— sorry if Santa Claus is too far out of the realm of belief from the vampire, ” Virgil continues to grumble, even as Patton folds him into a hug, too.

“He has also known Marie Curie,” Logan says, still unable to quite believe it even though he’s practically memorized the missives she had sent Patton. “Also, I may have elevated my threshold of belief to include vampires, selkies, sirens, and banshees, but I absolutely will not be budged to start believing in childhood myths.”

He pins Patton with a look. “And I am still unconvinced that you knew Robin Hood.”

“Well, he wasn’t actually called that then — ” Patton begins.

“Nope!” Roman practically yells. “Nope, Logan, you are not going to take the fact that I am one degree separated from the Merry Men, I refuse to listen to you debate this again, Sheriff of Not-letting-Roman-have-this-one-thing-ingham—”

“All of my research suggests the people you knew were imitators—” Logan begins again.

“As a Christmas gift to me, shut up,” Roman says.

“Roman,” Patton scolds.

“ Please shut up,” Roman amends politely—only his tone is polite, as the words themselves and the eyeroll that accompanies them are not particularly courteous.

Virgil distracts him quite handily by physically turning Roman around and nudging him toward the door.

Patton follows after them, Logan a few steps behind.

“All right, well, be safe going home,” Patton says, beginning on his spiel as Roman and Virgil pull on gloves and scarves. “Are you calling for a ride?”

“Walking,” Virgil says.

Patton makes a discomfited noise. “In this cold?”

“We barely live three blocks away, Ed-worry Cullen,” Roman says, and flaps his arms to show off his new peacoat, a gift from Janus. “We’re all bundled up.”

“All right, well,” Patton says, clearly still fretting, “Text message me when you get home?”

“Just text works,” Logan murmurs, but he can empathize with Patton’s difficulty with memorizing certain terms; it’s just that Patton’s are mostly technological in nature, and Logan’s are slang. Back when they first met, Patton still had the occasional slip-up and called texts telegrams.

“Text me,” Patton corrects himself, smiling at Logan and squeezing his hand in silent thanks before turning his attention back to Roman and Virgil.

“We will,” Virgil says, and amends, “or at least, I will,” because Roman was notorious for promising he’d text when he got home only to wake up to fifteen missed calls from Patton because he’d forgotten to do so.

“Good,” Patton says with a sigh of relief, then, “All right, bring it in!”

Logan releases Patton’s hand so Patton can step forward and hug Roman and Virgil simultaneously; Roman pulls a face at him over Patton’s shoulder, likely still stung by Logan’s accurate theory about the validity of the so-called Merry Men Patton had been acquainted with.

Though Logan is the correct one, Patton may believe that those people were the original Robin Hood and his band of thieves, but he was most likely deceived considering the earliest myths of Robin Hood originated two hundred years prior to Patton’s birth, even if Patton protests that the dates of the origin of many myths during his human life are incorrectly cited—

Logan presses his lips together in an expression that is not reciprocating the face that Roman pulled at him. Logan is correct; he can rest easily knowing this. And perhaps Christmas is not the proper time to bring up this oft-rehashed debate.

Even though Logan is right. It should not be oft-rehashed because he is right.

“Merry Christmas, Brainy Swan,” Roman says, stepping forward to give Logan a hug that Logan would describe as brotherly, except he knows Roman’s brother and this is far too tame, even if there is more back-slapping and hair ruffling than Logan would prefer.

“I am not anything like Isabella Swan,” he begins—this is an oft-rehashed debate, too, but this one is far more teasing in nature; Logan, at least, has the retort of pulling up any image of a particularly hideous mermaid mock-up or ugly fish and showing it to him with the (Virgil-taught) response “This you?”—and Roman rolls his eyes.

“Stop denying the Twilight renaissance, Lucy Weste- nerd -a,” Roman says, and reaches out to pluck at the patched elbow of Logan’s tweed jacket, even as he’s hugging Patton goodbye. “You’re dressed Victorian enough—”

“Patton isn’t anything like Dracula,” Logan disputes this time, because obviously Patton would never drink Logan’s blood or turn him without his consent. He straightens his waistcoat, and is about to reach into his pocket, grab his phone, and show Roman the image of a blobfish he has saved for a special occasion to tell him that this is clearly his long-lost twin, not Remus.

He may or may not have rehearsed this with Virgil to ensure a devastating effect.

“Can we please go before you two spend all of Christmas Eve talking about vampire franchises,” Virgil groans.

“Yeah, as fun as that is, most nights, this is kind of a special night!” Patton says brightly. If it were anyone else, Logan would wonder if he should attempt to scan his tone for sarcasm, but Patton probably does think it’s fun.

Virgil steps forward to hug Logan next; a one-armed hug around the shoulders, quick. It’s what they’re both best with, really; abrupt, swift affection that can be moved on from in a tidy manner.

“Merry Christmas, L,” Virgil says, then he steps forward to allow Patton to give him a more substantial hug; Patton wraps his arms around Virgil’s shoulders, squeezing him tight, his eyes shuttering for a brief moment, his face becoming gaunt.

“Merry Christmas, Pat,” Virgil says in a very quiet voice.

“Merry Christmas, V,” Patton says, his voice equally quiet and a touch strained.

Something deep in Logan aches at the sight of them before the look on Patton’s is wiped clean, so abruptly it’s almost as if Logan’s imagined it, and Patton inhales deeply and lets go of Virgil.

“Text me,” Patton reminds them, as Roman and Virgil step off the front stoop.

“I will,” Virgil promises.

Roman’s face splits into a grin, and he calls back, “Merry Christmas, Elena Gil-boring!”

Logan’s head whips around, and he opens his mouth to respond—he isn’t sure with what— and the world surrounding him spins, and he’s weightless, airborne, and as suddenly as it started, it’s stopped. He sees Patton smile at him before Logan closes his eyes, the world still spinning in a way that is distinctly unpleasant.

“Okay?” Patton asks, gently touching Logan’s shoulder.

“Mm. Dizzy.” Logan takes in a deep breath through his nose—the smoke off the fire, the lingering scents of their dinner and desserts, peppermint—and releases it, shaky, through his mouth, before he chances opening his eyes again.

“Sorry,” Patton says, guilt in his tone.

“It’s all right,” Logan says, and he smirks a little. “I’m sure Roman would have said something to interrupt the Yuletide peace if you hadn’t.”

“Yes, Roman would have,” Patton teases, amused, before he blurs for a moment and comes into focus just as quickly, Logan’s empty mug in his hands, one of his many fluffy blankets over his arm—Patton is almost always eager to use his preternatural speed when they are alone in his home. “Would you like another?”

Logan evaluates it; he does not drink very often, but it is a holiday, and he has eaten a sufficient amount and kept well-hydrated today. Though, he does not usually get too vertiginous when Patton moves him quickly, unless they are moving a great distance, he does have reason to suspect that the alcohol is the reason for it today. He’ll have to mention it to Patton; so long as he avoids that, and keeps it to this last mug, he should not face any unfortunate aftereffects in the morning.

“Yes, please,” he decides.

Patton kisses his temple and casts the blanket in front of the fireplace with great fanfare, fluffing it up so that it is at optimum comfort levels, before he unfolds another with an equal amount of fanfare, wrapping it around Logan’s shoulders. Logan smiles at him in thanks, as he knows the blanket is likely for his benefit—Patton frets about Logan getting too cold when they cuddle due to their disparate temperatures—and there’s a rush of artificial wind as Patton zooms to the kitchen.

Logan wraps the blanket around himself a little more securely as he settles in front of the fire, taking a moment to adjust the wood with the poker, listening to the popping crackle that allows him to lean back in time to watch the spray of sparks leap up the chimney. There’s the sound of a needle being lifted off a vinyl, the vinyl being replaced, and the needle lowered back down; Patton has switched them to an album of orchestral performances of Christmas songs.

Another rush of wind, then, a soft tap of fingers at the top of his head. Logan tilts his head back to look up at him.

Patton’s smiling down at him, eyes reflecting the last remaining sparks, his dark eyes catching the light like stars. He cradles the mug in his hand, and, despite the great speed at which he had moved, he has not spilled a drop.

“Here you are, love.”

“Thank you, dear,” Logan says, placing the poker back where it’s meant to be before he accepts the mug. Patton takes the time to settle in beside him, setting a tray on the hearth, before he wraps his shoulders in the fluffy blanket, too.

Logan smiles a little at the sight of the tray. One half would pass as a traditional, human charcuterie board, if perhaps a bit heavier on jellies than most. The other half is crowded with sectioned blood oranges, a small bowl of pomegranate seeds, raspberries, cherries, and strawberries, all foods as red as Patton’s punny Christmas sweater. It says Merry Chrismath! on it, with math formulas sketched out to form the shape of a Christmas tree, which Patton had purchased specifically because the corners of Logan’s lips had turned up at the sight of it in the store.

Patton takes a sip from his own mug—from the smell of it, mulled wine—and sighs in satisfaction.

“This feels very human, doesn’t it?” Patton asks Logan, as if he is asking for Logan’s approval, and in all honesty he probably is; Patton has been undead for so long that the memories of his human life are dim and distant. “Sitting in front of the fire, eating snacks. About to cuddle.”

It does feel rather human—all he has to do is pretend that his boyfriend is a red food enthusiast, rather than, for whatever reason, red foods being passable enough to a vampire that they are the only human foods he can stomach.

He doesn’t waste time pretending, though. Why should he, when his reality is stranger than fiction?

Logan presses his cheek to Patton’s shoulder, for a moment.

“I’m perfectly satisfied with this being a shared vampire-human experience,” Logan says, deliberately misunderstanding why Patton is asking. He likes that Patton is a vampire; it is part of him, it is why they have been able to meet. He does not understand why Patton sometimes seems to act like Logan would prefer a human boyfriend, because he wouldn’t. He prefers Patton.

“Well,” Patton says, his voice almost unbearably soft. “I suppose I’m all right with that too.”

Logan reaches for his own mug and takes a sip, before, once again, pressing his cheek against Patton’s shoulder in a way that presses his hair against Patton’s face.

Patton huffs softly in amusement. “Are you trying to get me to smell you?”

“I find it interesting,” Logan says, and he does; the amount of data Patton can deduce by one smell is absolutely astounding. He has plans for a more specific experiment, which he will ask Patton to conduct on a day he is bored and amenable to such suggestions.

Patton hesitates, just for a little bit, before Logan scoots closer, about to tilt so that some of his more major arteries will be closer to his nose.

“All right, then, for Christmas.”

Patton presses his nose against Logan’s hair, kissing the crown of his head, before he inhales, slowly, curiously, like someone trying to place what’s cooking in a kitchen without being able to see what is being prepared.

“And?” Logan asks.

“Mm,” Patton hums, getting his thoughts in order, before he inhales again, this time as if he is a sommelier inhaling the scent of a fine vintage. “Well, you, my favorite smell in the whole world.”

Logan feels very warm in a way that has nothing to do with the blanket, Patton’s arm around his shoulders, or the fire before them.

“You washed your hair this morning—oh, this is a new shampoo!”

“You didn’t like the other one, you thought it was too chemical-y,” Logan says. “I finished it yesterday.”

“Ooh, thank you,” Patton says. “Not that you didn’t smell lovely without the overtone of whatever phoenix is supposed to smell like, but I like this one much better—ooh, lemongrass? You’re spoiling me.”

Logan grins into Patton’s collarbone; really, only Patton would think that a new shampoo scent was spoiling.

“And the usual soap smell,” Patton says. “Sweat, skin, deodorant, your aftershave. You walked by someone smoking today; tobacco and herbal cigarettes, that’s unusual, those were way more common back in the forties—damiana, blackberry leaf, rose, and,” another inhale, “hibiscus and mullein. Gosh, the thought of those takes me back.”

Logan is about to ask—perhaps a past acquaintance or friend smoked something similar in those days—but Patton moves on without ruminating on it further, which makes Logan feel an odd prick of pride; nostalgia has been one of Patton’s greatest strengths, true, but also one of his greatest downfalls.

“Did you have tacos for lunch yesterday? I can smell the spicy salsa still.”

“You cannot,” Logan says, still stunned, even after years, at the amount of things Patton can detect. He’s probably smelling the capsaicin in his salsa, for one, but Patton can also smell certain chemicals the body produces: illness, for example, but also things like cortisol and oxytocin.

“Mhm, makes my nose itch a little. And I can smell the stuff we had at the party, and for dinner last night and breakfast this morning, so it wouldn’t be as fun for you if I listed that off...” Another inhale. “Oh, and I can tell you’re a little tipsy.”

“I think that’s probably why I got dizzy when you ran with me earlier.”

Patton kisses his forehead as a form of apology. “And. You’re happy.”

Logan pulls back just enough, just so he can look Patton in the eyes.

There are a great many supposed vampire stories that claim to know the color of a vampire’s eyes; blood red, commonly, but yellow or gold were popular ideas, as well. Silver, sometimes. Almost always, the presumed color was a color not found in nature.

Patton’s eyes are so dark a brown they are practically black, the iris near indistinguishable from his pupil unless someone was shining a direct light at them. They were the same color when he was human, Patton thinks; he has an illustration of his mother hidden away upstairs, and they are identical in shape and shade. They are beautiful, and captivating, and full of the warmth and love that are so perfectly, wonderfully Patton.

“I hope you don’t have to smell me to know that,” Logan says, and then, fumblingly, “I mean—I am aware you can smell my oxytocin, but I hope you know that I am without relying on that sense. That I am happy, I mean. Because I am. I do not tell you how you make me feel enough and I feel the need to do so now and articulate it clearly. You make me incandescently, impeccably happy. I am deeply in love with you. I could not have imagined the way my life is now, but I do not want it any other way, because you have made my life so much better.”

Patton’s expression has softened, his head tilting to the side, his lips tilted up into a smile, his eyes so full of affection that Logan almost has the urge to look away, overwhelmed. But Logan, bolstered by something —the Bailey’s and peppermint schnapps, the Christmas spirit, his own love for Patton, he isn’t sure which or if it’s a combination of all of them—keeps looking at him, savoring the expression, before his hand drifts up to cup Patton’s jaw.

They lean in simultaneously, and Logan’s eyes drift shut as he presses his lips to Patton’s once again; this time, without anyone to watch or heckle, Patton’s soft lips part easily for him, Patton’s fingers tangling in his hair, and Logan shivers a little with pleasure as Patton’s tongue brushes against Logan’s bottom lip. Patton is always, always so intolerably tender with him, so careful and deliberate, as if Logan is something to be savored, something exquisite and vitreous that needs to be handled delicately, something precious.

Logan tries his best to treat him in kind. He touches Patton’s face, Patton’s mouth and lips and tongue, eternally cool to the touch, with the kind of mindfulness he gives to pipettes and microscopes and test tubes, as if touching Patton in a way that is any less than the amount of devotion and love Patton deserves will irrevocably contaminate the results of his hypothesis.

But then Patton’s tongue brushes against his own, and Logan gasps, and he moves to kiss Patton with the devotion and love and passion that ignites in Logan’s stomach, burning hotter than a Yule log, his heartbeat thudding rapidly in his ears, and Logan presses himself even closer to Patton, so wonderfully chilled to the touch, the only thing that could temper the heat flaring to life in Logan’s stomach to something bearable, the only thing that brings balance, something as undeniably well-paired as the heat source and the heat sink—they bring each other thermodynamic equilibrium, romantic equilibrium, equilibrium in all things—

Patton pulls away, just in time, just as Logan needs to break away to gulp in a breath that Patton does not need to take, and Logan looks at Patton, whose eyes are flaring with their own kind of heat.

“I love you too,” Patton says, and he presses his forehead to Logan’s, inhaling deeply; Logan wonders if his body has started producing dopamine and norepinephrine and serotonin and vasopressin, if Patton can smell it.

“I love you so much,” Patton says again, his voice trembling with the weight of it.

Patton wraps his arms around Logan’s waist, pulling him into his lap, and Logan wraps his arms around him. Patton cuddles closer, rubbing his cheeks against Logan’s hair almost like a cat.

“I love you too,” Logan says, “I love you.”

Patton bundles the blanket around them, the fire crackling and the ebb and flow of string music in the background, and Logan presses a kiss to Patton’s cheek.

“I love you,” Patton repeats.

I love you, I love you, I love you, they whisper at each other, wrapped up in a blanket until the fire sputters down to embers, Patton’s cold skin keeping Logan from overheating, the pair of them exchanging kisses that only slightly tip into overly passionate, always returning to holding each other, cuddling in front of the fire, even as Logan’s eyelids slip lower and lower as the moon rises higher and higher in the sky, so comfortable and so adored and so absolutely, completely sated that he cannot help but drift off in the comfort of it, one thing ringing in his ears that carries him off to a deep, dreamless sleep.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

#my post #text #my fic #my fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #logicality

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47-shades-of-hitman · 4 years ago

Text

Seven days of Valentine with Agent 47 | Day 2 [GN]

Day 2 - What is love? | SFW

You try to explain the concept of being in love to Agent 47.

Warnings: None

Link to my Hitman-related Discord server

Today was Valentine’s Day and that meant a whole day of a tell-tale knot in your stomach. Not that you hated love or this particular day itself, but because the person you were head over heels with was utterly oblivious about everything to do with love.

Agent 47 was in no shape or form able to tell that you were in love with him. Or he was just very good at hiding that he knew, but you doubted it. For years now, you had found yourself drowning in his eyes occasionally, or daydreaming about what he’d do if you’d decide to kiss him out of the blue.

You still wanted to try that one day, if you were only brave enough. But you couldn’t imagine the hurt it would bring you. So you admired him in silence, from a distance, hoping for him to catch on one day, even though you knew deep down that he wouldn’t.

The only person you had trusted with your secret was Diana. Well, it wasn’t completely voluntary, but she had caught you crying in the sleeping quarters one day while on a mission, and she wouldn’t leave before she knew what was causing you such sorrow.

The confession had caused Diana to smile a little, followed by a statement that she had been having an inkling for a while. She also reassured you that everything would be alright, but your heart felt no lighter in the knowledge that 47 was just unable to realise it by himself.

Today, you wanted to make a move, but you weren’t sure how. Diana had decided to help you out by handing you a bunch of files you had to deliver to 47, and it sent your stomach into a raging pit of butterflies.

And so you stood in front of the door, fingers trembling as they rapped against it. Your heart crawled into your throat at the muffled “Come in.” of his gravelly voice.

You pushed open the door and found him standing next to his bed, on which he had stacked out all of his weaponry in order to prepare for the next mission. “I have some files for you.” you said, voice smaller than intended. “Diana asked me to bring them to you.”

“Couldn’t she send them to my device?”

You swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, I’m just a bringer of the message.” “Yes, of course.” he took the documents from you and quickly flipped through them.

You folded your hands on your back. “So, have you already decided what to bring yet?”

“Hm… Krugermeier. Lockpick. Still have to decide whether I should bring some poison or explosives, since I can’t bring both.” He looked up from the papers, “Are you wearing new perfume?”

Your cheeks flushed – you hadn’t expected him to notice. “Yes.” you squeaked, “I decided to change it up a bit. Can’t hurt every once in a while.”

47 hummed. “Good choice. It smells good on you.”

Even more blood rose to your cheeks and you felt like you might faint, mind replaying especially the last part of that compliment: on you. On you particularly. As if the wearer would be able to change what it smelt like…

“Thank you.” you whispered. “Valentine’s Day seemed like a great day to do something else.”

47 placed the papers onto the neatly made bed, next to the fibre wire. “What is it with people and Valentine? I’ve never understood.”

“Well, Valentine or the concept of love?” you quizzed. He looked at you and your pulse quickened more than it already had. “Both, I guess? What is it like to be in love?”

You gulped.

“Well, you know what it feels like to have a friend, right? Like Diana, Lucas… Me…” “You hesitated before mentioning yourself.” Your eyes flicked everywhere but to his. “I… I didn’t intend to do so, it’s just…” “You’re my friend, too.”

Stomach tightening, you took a deep breath. That’s exactly the problem, 47! you thought to yourself.

“Well, that’s good. Anyway, whenever you have a friend, it may occur that you feel something else for them. Something running deeper than that friendship, a stronger connection. It only takes a second sometimes. To fall in love, I mean. Ah… You suddenly feel all bubbly inside your stomach whenever they’re around and… Your heart beats faster whenever they’re close. You might also get nervous or shy around them, even though you were completely cool before you were in love with them… And you can’t stop thinking about them all day. You might get the urge to touch or kiss them whenever they’re near, or to hold them, or feel the need to protect them against all danger in the world because you can’t see a life without them, and…”

Your voice trailed off and you cast your gaze downward before wryly smiling. “Love is weird, isn’t it?”

Agent 47 huffed. “It is. I can see why it is deeper than friendship on an emotional level. Have you ever been in love?”

“O-Of course.” was your answer. “I never… I never told them, though.” “Why?” You blinked a few times, fighting against the tightening of your throat. “Because I was afraid that he wouldn’t love me back.”

47 was silent for a few seconds before asking another question:

“Are you in love right now, then?” “Yes.” you whispered softly. “With whom?” “I-I’m not telling.” “Why?” “Because I’m afraid that he won’t love me back.” “Why? You’re a great person, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Your eyes shot up to his like a deer in the headlights, widened as they locked with the deep pools of blue staring back at you.

“You really think so?” “Of course.” 47 replied. “I think you should just tell him.”

You let your fingers fiddle with each other in front of you, nerves surging through your veins as you did a step in his direction. “It’s complicated. I really shouldn’t, and…” you shook your head and smiled, “I shouldn’t.”

He stared at you for a second.

And then you did it, anyway. Without paying it another thought, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his for no longer than a second before immediately pulling back and turning away, embarrassed.

It couldn’t even be called a quick peck, really. Before you could walk away, a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Wait.”

Agent 47 spun you around so you would face them, and he didn’t give you any space to speak up, because he cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

Soon enough, you felt yourself respond against his mouth, butterflies spreading through the top of your head and the tips of your fingers. You wrapped your hands around his arms and leaned into him, softly sighing against his lips.

You had imagined countless times what it would be like to kiss him. Nothing had ever come close to the real thing.

You were sure that it wouldn’t be a one time thing, and there was a lot to discuss after this.

For example, how it could be that you had just perfectly described the way that Agent 47 felt around you - he had been wholly unfamiliar with the emotion, nearly unable to comprehend it. Now it seemed to click. But for now, you melted into him, relishing in the fact that you were kissing 47.

#Agent 47 #agent 47 x reader #valentine 47 #David Bateson #reader insert

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botan-shirabuki · 5 years ago

Text

Withdrawing Restraint (NSFW)

Pairing: Akechi Mitsuhide x MC

Summary: Mitsuhide invites his love over for an intimate night -with a special twist!

Rating: Explicit/NC-17 (for graphic sexual content and language, detailed tags are on Ao3)

Word Count: 10,458

Author Notes: My first ever SLBP fic!!! It took me forever to write but I'm finally ready to share it on here now! I re-read it and it feels like reading it goes by faster than writing it did so I hope that's the case for you too.

I have to thank @otonymous @pseudofaux @rubyleeray and @dear-mrs-otome because all of your Mitsuhide fics opened my third eye and made my three-year-long writers block melt away.

I also gotta tag @simsontherocks @soulareclipsex @haythell and @aliensatemymemories Thank you so much for your support! 💖

Also shout TF out to the SLBP on Crack discord server for being so encouraging of my undying thirst 🥰

Ao3: here

When she made it to his chambers that evening, she let herself in to the sight of Lord Mitsuhide at his desk, his nose in a book as he waited for the pot of tea to finish boiling on the brazier.

"You've set quite the mood tonight, haven't you, darling?" she hummed in appreciation. Quite the mood indeed. There were only a few strategically placed candles lit, save for the lantern on his desk. The whole room smelled of a sultry perfume that swirled through the air. Just one deep breath of it made her shoulders loosen up and her fingers unfurl out of the anxious fist they were balled up in.

Mitsuhide looked up from his book, his crooked smile warm and loving as always. Though she could see something...deeper...behind his slate blue eyes. "Good evening, my love. Would you kindly close the door behind you lest we let all of the incense out of the room."

She humored him, quickly shutting the door behind her while her excitement radiated off of her. That morning, he had promised her a very special night while they found themselves alone in a hallway. He made it a point to push her up against the wall with his hands trapping her on either side. His voice was low and dead serious in her ear, making her breath catch. When she quietly agreed, he smiled in approval before tilting her chin in between his thumb and index finger to bring her in for a slow and gentle kiss. Unfortunately for the both of them, they were interrupted by the sound of two cheery maids talking to each other, making Mitsuhide instantly switch off and pull away from her. He had the audacity to greet them good morning as if nothing had happened before turning back to her with a knowing smirk before continuing on down the hall...

And there she was, worked up the wall after a whole day of anticipation. She nearly overbaked a castella thinking of what the night could entail. Almost fell off the veranda trying to will herself to not go find him and drag him to the nearest empty room. He owed her her dignity, not that she should have expected to get it back anytime soon.

"What do you have there?" she asked, her steps were hurried, even clumsy, as she walked over to sit down next to him. "Ah, if I had known you would be making tea I would have brought snacks..." She should have known; he always made tea.

Mitsuhide straightened up, taking a moment to think before he spoke. "I...aim to please you tonight."

Her eyebrows slightly furrowed, "You always do."

Though her affirmation shot straight to his heart and made it swell with pride, he continued on: "That may be the case, however, it is my duty to make sure I do so to the best of my ability, no matter what that entails." He used his free hand to reach for hers, while his other hand held his copy of the Lovers' Guide. His thumb saving a specific page that he was in the process of memorizing. He brought her hand to his lips to kiss each of her smooth fingers.

It was their first moment of physical contact that night and it was already electrifying. Truth be told, despite the gentle nature of his gesture, a good part of her thought she could have jumped on him right there and then. But it had become clear to her that he had very specific plans set. She blushed at the thought and averted her gaze from his, overwhelmed by her thoughts and the intensity in his eyes. She settled on the two empty teacups on a tray with two small white packets that looked like....medicine?

"May I ask what these are?"

Mitsuhide's eyes lit up in the way they did when a topic of interest came up in conversation. "I acquired these from the European merchants that visited the castle last week," he let go of her hand and the book, which he placed face down so that he could save the page. He held one of the tiny packets in between his index and middle fingers. "They're said to be the pollen of the Aisuri flower."

"A-Aisuri flower?" she repeated, the foreign name clumsily rolling off her tongue.

Mitsuhide nodded, "It was recently discovered by explorers in the tropics. It contains a potent aphrodisiac and has become quite popular among couples who have the opportunity to experience it." He examined her expression, blank save for the flicker of thought behind her eyes. Her lack of reaction made him backtrack, "But if you do not wish to take it, you do not have to," he gave her a reassuring smile, "our night will go on just fine without it."

She looked back at him, locking eyes and returning his smile. "Lord Mitsuhide, there is very little that I would be afraid to try with you." An experience like that was probably once in a lifetime, and she was touched by his honesty. "Let's make the most of this."

Invigorated by her enthusiasm, Mitsuhide held her pretty little face in his hands. "Yes, I couldn’t agree anymore," he said before pulling her into a series of light kisses. Before they could deepen, their attention was drawn to the whistle of the tea kettle. "Right on schedule," he half sighed, getting up to go attend to the tea.

After a short while, he had two perfect cups of tea made for the two of them. He took a deep breath and gestured towards them, "Shall we drink together?"

She nodded, reaching for the packets, "I'll pour them in." She lifted one of the little paper envelopes reverently; they were the star attraction of the night after all. She unfolded it to reveal a large coin-sized dose of a rather unassuming yellow powder; it looked like it could have come from any old plant, honestly. Ignoring any doubts that threatened to show themselves, she dumped the contents into the first cup-- his. The powder dissolved into the tea colorlessly, the drink looking normal save for a few flecks that caught on the inner wall of the cup. She proceeded to do the same to her tea with the next packet. Her eyes looked up from the cups to check on her lover, whose eyes were on her handiwork with blazing focus that made her look away. She dropped the remaining paper wrapper onto the tray so she could thoroughly stir the powder into the tea. Carefully, as if for Mitsuhide's watching eyes, she placed her utensil down and began to wrap her fingers around the cup.

Mitsuhide followed suit, picking up his, "Here's to us sharing this new experience together."

She nodded, humming in approval as she took her first sip. She couldn't have predicted how it would taste. It was very sweet, almost sickeningly so, yet it was still strongly herbal. The liquid felt thicker than an average tea. It coated her tongue and the back of her throat with a spiced aftertaste. She blinked in surprise as she swallowed it down.

"Is it alright?" he asked her, taking a long slow sip of his own.

"It is..." she began, but didn't really know where to go with it. She took another sip, noting how comforting the taste actually was. She took another moment to glance back at Mitsuhide, who was still staring at her. "....Is yours alright?"

Mitsuhide's lips turned up at the corners into a smile. "I don't mind it." he said in passing, more intent on watching how her lips parted as she prepared to take sip after sip. His eyes began to wander to the spot on her jawline where he knew she liked to be kissed. Admittedly, all of his preparation for the night had gotten him worked all the way up before even a drop of the concoction was in his system. He could have taken her right as she walked through the doorway, but what kind of gentleman would he be if he did that? So he let her take her sweet time, because for that night, time was all they had.

She found herself drinking her tea much faster than he was. Maybe because his gaze excited her so much. Interestingly, she noticed a buzzing sensation on her tongue. It slowly began to travel down her throat and into her stomach, neutralizing any remaining butterflies she had in there. She felt great, and she could tell that it was only the beginning. "How long does it take to take effect?"

"According to the merchant, it varies from person to person. It will probably take a few minutes to settle in. Let me know if you are at all uncomfortable," his eyes softened a little with concern.

"I will, thank you," she couldn't help but smile. She felt so safe knowing that he always had her best interests in mind. If there was anything she could have offered to return the favor, she would have done it in a heartbeat.

Suddenly, it hit her.

In actuality, it crept up on her and engulfed her completely without her even realizing it, but now it was here. Suddenly, the room was way too hot. All of her clothes began to cling to her, and underneath them, her skin was prickling as if someone was running a fine toothed comb all over her body. To soothe the tension, she tried rubbing her thighs together, but that just made her situation much worse. She was positively throbbing between her legs, she couldn't recall a time where the ache had been this bad. She dropped her empty cup rather clumsily onto the table and dug her nails into her thighs in an attempt to ground herself. The sensation made her release a shaky gasp.

"Darling, are you alright?" Mitsuhide reached for her shoulder to offer her support and was surprised to see how she tensed at such simple contact.

She slowly turned her head towards him, her pupils blown out, a deep blush prettily dusted across her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as breathed. She looked at him through her glassy eyes as if he was so far away, save for his hand on her. All she wanted was for him to be as close as possible so that she could...do something...about the burning desire within her. "I...I think it's working now."

Mitsuhide didn't hesitate to bring her into his arms, but he definitely didn't expect her to instantly pull him into a needy open-mouthed kiss. She crashed into him, clumsily trying to climb into his lap. Though it wasn't an unwelcome advance, he had never thought to prepare what to do if she initiated anything. While he contemplated what to do, he kissed her back, though his lips were far more cautious. He was concerned that the drink took effect on her as fast as it did compared to him. But at the same time, the sight of her being so openly and shamelessly wanton in the confines of his room turned him on to no end.

As if to further the conflict between his two heads, she began to pull the sash holding her kimono in place. "Lord Mitsuhide," she sighed against his lips before kissing him yet again, "I need you...so desperately, I need you..."

Well he couldn't possibly deny her there. He held her head in his hand while the other helped her toss her clothes aside. "Lay down on the bed, I wish to taste you," he whispered in her ear, making her visibly shiver, before he placed a trail of kisses down the side of her neck and across her collarbone. "Is that okay with you?"

She let out a very distinct whine when he licked a stripe down the expanse of skin between her breasts. "Yes, it's okay, anything is okay...." she pulled away and began to enticingly crawl to their bed.

Goodness, he liked her on this stuff.

He watched her ass sway back and forth in the air until she settled on top of the bed. With an effortless sigh, she relaxed, opening her knees up for him. Not missing a beat, Mitsuhide moved towards the bed and gently positioned himself laying on his stomach between her thighs so that her soft hamstrings squished up against his shoulders. He could feel each and every way she squirmed about against his clothes, searching for that little bit of friction that would appease her.

"Hold still," was all he murmured to her before he took his first taste, a slow drag of his pointed tongue from her entrance through her inner lips and over her clit which was already firm to the touch. She reacted positively, gasping out as if she couldn't have predicted how good that simple touch would feel. He licked the pads of his thumbs and repeated the same motion with them. If there was one fact that Mitsuhide couldn't hide from, it was that he loved to witness how her body reacted to him. Especially her most delicate womanhood. He loved to watch how deep it would flush; he oftentimes wished he could put it directly next to her face to see which one blushed deeper. His thumbs continued to sweep over her which got him moans and coos of approval from her. When one thumb began to dry out, rasping against her, he dipped into her for extra moisture.

Oh? Interesting...

She was far wetter than she normally got, especially considering he had barely started touching her. His thumb circled inside of her a few times and sure enough, when he pulled it out a chain of a clear liquid still connected it to her entrance. Curious, he swept it over her clit again. Looking up, he caught her staring back down at him. Her expression was anticipative, bordering on impatient. It was adorable to him. He took a moment to make direct eye contact with her before flattening his tongue against her, then closing his lips around her clit to suck the juice off.

"Oh Lord Mitsuhide please!" She cried out, her thighs closing in around his ears.

He wasn't sure whether it was the sound of her voice, her thighs closing off the reality of the world around him, the taste of her, or even that damned tea, but that was the moment where he lost his cool.

He released her with a very audible wet smack of his lips. He ducked down to tease her entrance with his tongue. The flavor of her essence made him groan and go back for more multiple times. The tingling sensation on his tongue made it all the more satisfying. He was losing himself in the moment and he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to care.

On her end, she was so close. Mitsuhide had never stuck his tongue inside of her like that before. She couldn't tell if she liked it or not because at that point she liked everything, but she knew for sure one of its perks: everytime he moved his head, his nose nuzzled against her clit. She took advantage of it, rocking her hips against his face and using his powerful shoulder blades to support her feet. "Please dear...hold my hips up to your face?"

Wordlessly, he obliged. His elbows were planted down on the bedding so his hands could hold up her hips. He had no complaints, he loved the feel of her slippery little pussy on his face. He was amazed that he even admitted that to himself but it was the absolute truth. With each gyration of her hips, he caught her inner lips in his mouth, suckling and pulling them until they started to unfold and glisten like a precious flower.

She began to pick up her speed, her toes curling into the clothing and her breathy moans and pleas increased in volume. Realizing that his hands were occupied, she took matters into her own hands to tug and tweak at her nipples in the way she liked them played with. All the while, her body was still hot and tingling. The smell of the incense still burning in the room grounded her as she felt she might be carried away in a torrent of pleasure.

"Mi- Mitsuhide...." she began, her hips stuttering erratically against his face. "I'm almost there...!"

Picking up on her urgency, Mitsuhide shifted his hands so that one held her up by her tailbone. The other inserted two fingers inside her. Encouraged by the squeak of a gasp she let out, he began to twist and pull his fingers in and out of her. That delicious slick fluid collected on his fingers, his chin, even his nose. He wanted more from her. He wanted enough so that he could collect it all in a bottle and keep it for later...

She was at her limit. She interrupted his thoughts by clamping her thighs around his head and punctuating his ministrations with a loud whine. She clenched around his fingers for a moment before falling limp back onto the futon. She basked in the afterglow for a moment, watching him lewdly clean off the mess she had made of his hand and face. As she lay there panting, she realised that she was still throbbing. Her skin was still hot, the tingly comb feeling still there.

"I...I need more..." her voice was a breathy whisper, but he heard her loud and clear.

Without hesitation, he pulled her up towards him by her thin forearm and into a smothering kiss. She barely had her balance when she climbed on his lap. Not caring if she was being too forward, she dipped her tongue into his mouth. The sweet taste of the tea mingled with something earthy and savory: presumably hers. Mitsuhide's tongue responded in earnest, sweeping across her lower lip before delving deeper. Her hands found their way into his hair in the hopes that they could keep him in the torrid embrace for as long as possible. She sat directly down onto his lap as she kissed him, feeling his erection as solid as could be through his hakama. The pressure made him groan into her mouth and bite her lip.

Eventually, he left her lips, starting to work his way across her jawline hungrily. He tilted her head to the right in order to do so properly. The new angle made her aware of her surroundings for the first time in a while. She caught a glimpse of Mitsuhide's teacup left alone on the desk to go cold.

"Hold on..." she managed to pant out. "You never finished your tea."

"Leave it be, I don't care anymore." he growled into the dip behind her collarbone. What he did drink must have been working just fine considering it made him capable of ditching his own plan for the evening along with a cup of tea.

"No..." she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, making him look up at her. The deep blue of his eyes was almost totally overshadowed by black blown out pupils. They were angry, slightly crazed because he was being denied the one thing that could soothe the animalistic need in him. The power behind them made her shudder before she continued, "It's only fair that we both take all of it, right?"

He didn't answer. His eyes never left her and his grip on her hips tightened as if to tell her not to move.

"Here," she resisted his silent command and lifted herself up off of his lap and onto her knees. There was a noticeable cool draft between her legs where she had sat down so firmly in his lap. She reached over to the table, picking up the teacup and settling back in his lap over the wet spot they made together. She raked a hand through his hair again, tilting his head back so she could position the teacup at his lips. "Drink."

As if she wasn't persuasive enough like that, she started to grind her hips down onto him. The delicious friction of her wetness rubbing him through his clothes made his lips part and his eyes cloud over. She seized the opportunity to pour the remaining liquid into his mouth. The tea was less favorable when lukewarm, yet he drank down the rest with no hesitation, letting the sweetness envelop his tongue and throat. He felt the last trickle of it dribble down his chin. Before it could travel down his neck, he heard the cup fall against the floor and felt her hands force the front of his robes open. She boldly licked up the remaining trail of tea starting at his pulse point and ending at his lips with a fierce and hungry kiss. Returning her ardour tenfold, he kissed her back, urgently undressing so they could finally feel the press of burning hot skin against skin.

He still had his clothes pooled around his knees when he finally broke their kiss and spun her around so that she would fall stomach first onto his desk. He hardly noticed how she knocked the Lover's Guide off of its surface while he adjusted her hips to accommodate him. She arched her back, her body burning and aching, willing and ready to be taken...

Mitsuhide went in easily on the first stroke. Any sense of order or decorum had flown out the window. If he didn't fuck her as thoroughly as possible in the next few minutes he would probably die. His hips roughly clapped against hers, pinning her in between him and the desk. She lifted one leg up onto the desk to offset the pain of her hip bones bumping into the edge with each thrust and placed her clammy palms flat against the cool surface. It didn't really stop her from being jolted back and forth, but it kept her grounded as she dug her knee into the floor and threw her hips back at him to match his thrusts as best as she could.

"Yes...that's it...You're amazing," Mitsuhide reassured her, though he didn't recognize his voice from how deep and growly it had become. The tight, wet, velvety drag of her walls drew him in and drove him even further into insanity. He tangled a hand in her hair to keep her face turned to the side. He wanted to watch how her face contorted with pleasure as he took her. How he longed to see her like this. Sometimes it was all he found himself thinking of, her trapped beneath him and being fucked into pieces. He loved how loud she was, with her groaning and whining and grunting. It was as if the pollen had erased her typical fear of getting overheard. He gripped her hips a little tighter and slammed deeper into her. The wet slapping of his skin against hers increased in volume, as did the sound of her moans and cries.

"Mitsuhide...please!..." she whined in need. It would have normally embarrassed her, but the way he was hitting her cervix fried her brain, his too.

The way she said his name set something even darker off within him. He kept fucking her, watching himself slide in and out, watching her arousal run down her inner thigh, watching her flush spread down her back. It was amazing, he remembered a time where he was afraid he'd break her into pieces if he held her a little too tight. Now, she was incoherently begging him to fuck her with all he had. Each time his grip on her hair got a little too tight, he felt her clench around him in excitement. She kept up with his frantic pace, her hips bouncing back to meet his halfway. All in all, she was phenomenal. He just wanted to do was pin her down and fuck her hard through the table until she cried. A part of him liked it when she got all teary-eyed and needy. It fed into his urge to watch how beautiful she looked as she fell apart from ecstasy. He wanted to see it so bad. He wanted it so bad. He wanted it so so--

Oh no.

His eyes widened as he hurriedly pulled out of her, but it was too late. He painted her lower back with several ropey, thick strands of cum. He hunched forward, an uncharacteristically loud lewd groan escaping from his lips. His orgasm blindsided him, hit him like a shot from his flintlock pistol. The subsequent feeling of euphoria spread through his body. The waves of pleasure seemed endless as he rubbed his sensitive head against the soft flesh of her left buttcheek.

"Lord Mitsuhide...?" she began, noting the unexpected warmth she felt on her back.

Part of him felt guilty, he would normally never finish before she was thoroughly satisfied. Though he had a feeling he was far from finished.

Without much of a warning, she placed her knee that was on the desk back onto the floor and rolled her hips back against his thigh. He could feel the slick glide of her lips against him. While she languidly humped his leg, He held his cock against the supple skin of her ass. Though he was still sensitive, He couldn't help but chase that extra bit of pleasure. Indeed, he was still fully hard and ready to go again. Though his first release had thankfully taken a bit of the edge off.

Letting out a tiny moan, she caught his attention. She turned her head to smile at him "That stuff really works, huh?" she said so casually as if she wasn't still rolling her hips against him, though her voice was noticeably throatier than usual.

Mitsuhide, though a little bashful, smiled back, "So it seems." His hand slides up her hip to rub the skin right below where he came, "How are you feeling?"

"I feel wonderful," she sighed, turning her head back to face forward. As well as he had fucked her, she had her head turned to the side for too long and it was starting to strain her neck. "though my knee is a little sore."

The floor hadn't been very kind to his knees either. Unfortunately, it seemed they would have to part, if only for a moment. "Wait right there for a little longer, I'll clean you up so that you can lay down again."

She made a tiny groan in the back of her throat to protest him separating from her, but she didn't fight him. "Okay."

With one last insistent rub against her ass, Mitsuhide rose to his feet to step out of his puddle of clothes and make the trip across the room to get a towel. As he walked he made a note of how his whole body seemed to hum in pleasure. So much so that it made the ache in his knees hardly noticeable over it. When he reached the dresser where he kept multiple towels on standby, he snuck a glance at her over his shoulder.

She sat back up straight to take the weight off of her knees. She unraveled the cord tying her hair back as most of it had come loose out of it anyway. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she ran her fingers through it. It felt intriguingly good when they caught in the tangle left by Mitsuhide's fist, gently tugging at the base of the follicles. Ah, she wished she'd asked him to pull it a little. She even moaned a little when she felt it.

Her hand continued down to her breasts. They hadn't received much attention while they were mashed up against the desk, they were still so very tender. Just barely pinching their hard nipples made her catch a shaky gasp in her throat. Unable to resist the temptation, her other hand dipped between her thighs. She was still plenty wet and two fingers sunk in easily. They were obviously a poor substitute for her Lord Mitsuhide, but if he didn't get back over to her soon, she probably would have mindlessly kept going.

Luckily for her, he had witnessed her whole moment. He found her to be so effortlessly sensual and extremely ravishable. He could practically hear her body crying out for him and he was dead set on giving her exactly what she so clearly needed. In fact, he reached back into the dresser to retrieve a small vial of oil because if he thought he was being rough with her earlier...

She noticed his footsteps towards her and quickly pulled her fingers out of herself and hid them at her side as if she were some naughty child.

Mitsuhide returned to her side with a seemingly calm smile. "Could you please lean back over the desk for a moment?" he asked as he knelt by her side.

Wordlessly, she obliged, her chest making contact with the still-warm desktop. She couldn't stop her eyes from wandering down towards his cock; it was still aggressively hard, ruddy, and flushed as if he hadn't just painted her back. Normally, she found herself too flustered to even look directly at it, but now she found her mouth watering at the sight of it. She could practically feel its thickness splitting her open again as she eyed his girth.

Her indiscreet gaze inflated his ego. Grinning cheekily, he began to wipe up the mess on her back. "Flushed skin suits you so well," he stated idly.

Her eyes finally made it back up to his face. "Thank you, you look good too..." She finished, her words clumsy as she tried to keep up with the normalcy of their chat.

He didn't answer for a moment, just pushing her hair aside so he could blot the back of her neck with another towel. "Are you alright? Do you need anything to drink?"

"N-No, I'm fine for now," She really was. She felt plenty hydrated and the tingling sensation of the tea still lingered on her tongue. It was his free hand suddenly creeping up onto her backside that caused her to stammer.

"Well, in that case..." his hand slid down between her thighs. Taking a moment to relish in their heat and her little gasp, he swept his hand upwards, collecting her arousal on his fingers. Her breath hitched again and her thighs clenched slightly when he almost brushed up against her sex. He pulled his hand back out, examining the thick substance glistening in the candlelight.

She flushed even deeper at the sight. She hadn't ever made that much of a mess! She watched his expression, trying to gauge how he felt. Before she could pinpoint the what that look in his eyes was, they closed as his lips wrapped around his coated fingers. It was a rare sight to see Lord Mitsuhide so blatantly indulged. The way that he moaned when her essence hit his tongue made her ache desperately for him all over again.

Mitsuhide lowered himself until his lips were right above her ear. "I don't think I ever got to tell you how good you taste." His voice was a low purr that sent gooseflesh down her arms. He placed a wet, hot kiss right below her same ear, making her moan again. "When it hit my tongue earlier I believe it drove me wild."

Her back arched as he ran his hand down along her graceful curves, "I quite liked it when you were wild," she admitted. His words had her charged up and hyper-aware of the aphrodisiac still coursing through her system.

He grinned, pleased with her equally forward honesty. "Oh dear, then I assume you'll have to make more..." With that, he slipped his hand back between her thighs where he entered her still soaked center with two fingers.

"I'll...hah!" she gasped before she could continue. His fingers were slow and languid, a direct contrast to how rough he was earlier. But she could tell by how he hungrily kissed and nipped at her jawline that he was eager for more. "F....Faster...." she breathed.

His pace picked up, just enough so that she clenched around his digits and moaned desperately. He used his free hand to cup her chin and turn her face towards him. He kissed her hungrily, greedily. This time, he didn't hesitate to plunge his tongue into her mouth. She effectively submitted to his ministrations, letting him tease her mouth and sex simultaneously. At that point, she was so turned on she would have let him do anything to her, but her knee was beginning to sting against the textured floor. She gingerly tapped on Mitsuhide's shoulder to get his attention.

"Take me to the bed...please?" she asked, her voice was small and shaky, a clear indicator that what he did was not in vain.

Mitsuhide mentally reprimanded himself for getting carried away and momentarily losing sight of her needs. "Of course," he said, carefully pulling out from her and immediately helping her up, "Can you walk?"

He asked the question in complete sincerity without any bit of smugness but the question still made her blush and look down at her feet, "I, um...think so?" She slowly stood with his help, being mindful of her sore knee while also noting the dull pulsing ache of a certain spot within her that she definitely wanted to attend to again.

Her stumbling walk was so cute to him. He probably shouldn't have gotten such sick, smug satisfaction from the way she shakily put one foot in front of the other while she clung to his shoulders, yet there he was. She might have buckled if she had seen the predatory look in his eyes. He wanted to ruin her completely. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about fucking her until her legs completely gave out, so she would have to lay in wait for him to return to her so he could have her all over again.

She eased her way onto the bedding, being mindful of any aches. Making quite the show of sinking into the cushions on her stomach, she rolled over onto her back and beckoned him to join her. Without hesitation, Mitsuhide knelt down in between her spread legs and lowered his mouth to meet hers. He gently nibbled and sucked on her full lower lip before pulling away.

"Are you sure there's nothing else that you need?" He asked her one last time, hovering over her.

She laughed, slightly breathless from his kiss, "I'm fine now."

He sat up. His left hand found its way to the side of her stomach. Without breaking smoldering eye contact, his hand slowly slid down past her hip and thigh so that it could hook underneath her knee. Naturally, her knee bent as he lifted it towards his ducked head. "Not even for this?" he referred to the pink skin of her knee that had been previously dug into the bare floor. He truly felt bad for keeping her there for as long as he did, especially without a cushion.

She shook her head even as he kissed the aforementioned kneecap. "Not even..." she trailed off as she watched his eyes flitting all up and down her face and body, the gaze just as intense as before. She could even feel the tension in the way he was holding her knee, his thumb pressing into its side. "Why are you suddenly holding out on me?" Her tone was teasing, but the way she held his right wrist insisted that she was growing impatient. Mitsuhide chuckled to himself, there was no getting anything past her at this point. His thumb stroked her knee and he brought his lips to it one last time before he answered:

"Truth be told, my dear," he began, his voice was thick with lust. So much so that she shuddered when it reached her ears, "I'm afraid that once I start....I don't know if I'll be able to stop."

His words excited her all over again, setting a spark ablaze behind her eyes. She swallowed the breath that she has been holding before she let go of his wrist and reached directly for his cock. He visibly tensed up, surprised by her boldness and very sensitive to her touch. She gave it one gentle pump before she held it against her sex. She could feel herself throbbing against him when she whispered "I don't want you to stop. I could die if you stopped." The air between them thickened as she started to lift her hips so that her wetness could glide against him. "You know, you still owe me one from earlier--"

Mitsuhide let go of her knee so he could pin her hips down with both hands. "I understand, just stay still." His firm touch lasted for only a moment before he reached over beside the bed to fetch the vial of oil. From the feel of her just then, she might have been fine without it but they were better safe than sorry. He coated himself with a generous amount of oil before he did the same to hers, almost losing himself in the sound of her whimpers as he touched her. His normally careful and gentle movements were hastened by how frenzied he felt by the whole situation. He lifted her hips into his lap --a new trick he had read about that very night-- and looked her in the eyes as he said her name, an informal way of asking for permission to continue.

She crossed her legs behind his waist and nodded, "Lord Mitsuhide."

And with her say so, he sank in.

Her jaw dropped instantly. This was a new angle for her and she wasn't used to the sensation. She grabbed his wrists and nodded again so that he would start moving. Wordlessly, he drew back and then, much to her surprise, slammed back into her, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

His eyes on her were blue fire, burning the sight of those faces she made into his memory. "Forgive me," spilled from his lips as he held her hips snug against his.

"You don't have to--!!!" was all she could say before her voice was reduced to an incoherent scream as he started to pound into her repeatedly. His pace was relentless, the oil providing the perfect balance of slip and friction. The unique angle had him fucking up into a spot she hadn't been previously aware of. She spent a good portion of his strokes trying to describe how it felt to herself until she was startled by the long guttural groan she caught as it was being ripped from her throat. With the question answered, she slipped her hand between them so she could touch herself along the way.

His hands on her hips left white indentations where he held her. He continued to surprise himself with how horny he was despite his earlier orgasm. The same thoughts were flooding his head, this time spurred on by her bouncing breasts and lovely face, though her eyes were downcast in some form of concentration. He watched her mouth as a euphony of shaky moans and sighs escaped it. He would have liked to stick his thumb between those shapely lips if it wouldn't have dampened such a delightful noise.

He began to find his pace tiresome, even for someone of his prowess, and slowed down to a less frenzied pace. Much to his pleasure, her eyes shot wide open and locked with his when he did so. Her pupils were blown wide and in their depths were silent pleas for him to keep at that pace, at least for a little while.

"Yes, just like that....slow....." she whispered, her thighs clenching in on his waist as if to slow him down herself. Her voice faded into nothing as she processed the longer, deeper rolls of his hips. As he pushed back into her, his tip massaged her newly discovered sweet spot. This time, accompanied by the efforts of her own fingers, she felt a delicious pressure building up in her lower abdomen. While it was familiar, this time it was much more intense than normal. The feeling only increased with each stroke that began to feel torturously slow. She whined and bucked her hips on time with his as she chased the sensation.

His hand reached up to push a lock of hair from between her lips. He lowered his head to kiss her just as slowly as he was fucking her. "Please, tell me what you need," He whispered into her lips, sensing her urgency.

Her free hand reached up to hold the back of his neck and she fastened her lips back to his fervently before parting again. "Ca--" she cut herself off with a shuddering sigh when he paused completely inside her, "Can you go faster again?"

He smiled and kissed her cheek one last time before he straightened back up and readied himself against her. "I hope it isn't too late to tell you you look beautiful tonight."

She reciprocated with a smile of her own, "You do too." Her face then twisted back into one of insurmountable pleasure when he began to sharply piston his hips into hers. This time, while he was still moving quickly, his strokes were long and deep like the slow ones. Each definitive snap of his hips sent a jolt towards her core. She would have to recount to him how good it felt once she could find her words again. Until then, all she could do was rub herself furiously as he kept going harder and harder.

She made an indescribable noise and nodded at him to signal that she was getting close. Mitsuhide, a master in the art of her body language, didn't stop what he was doing. His fingertips dug back into the soft dips of her inner hips as he started to guide her along. He noticed that he had begun to rock her up higher on the bedding, but he couldn't be bothered to care because of the silken vice grip she had around him.

She was teetering on the edge, her voice leaving her lips in high-pitched squeaks and silent gasps. In her fervent chase for her long-awaited climax, she became hyper aware of her surroundings: the smouldering haze of the incense that was probably almost completely burned out at that point curled through the air and filled her nose with its enticing aroma. The room was comfortably toasty, even despite the sheen of sweat covering the two of them. She had all but forgotten the powder until just then, noting how its tingling effect had boosted her libido all along. And of course, she noted the beautiful man -the love of her life- above her. The one who had brought all of this together for her. He looked so damn good in that mood lighting, and now he was giving her all he had with every single pound. And he had found her a new favorite spot to hit. Her abdomen was getting so tight from the tension building that she started shaking from it. "Mitsuhide..I'm--!" She hardly squeaked out before her vision went white with stars.

Then nothing.

Nothing except an insane sense of bliss. The feeling of her thighs violently shaking brought her back to reality while she was still cumming. Somewhere along the way, Mitsuhide had stopped thrusting. But now that she thought about it, was he even inside her at all? Once she finished convulsing, she lifted her head to look at him. He had indeed pulled out from her, but what really concerned her was the look on his face. His eyes were wide with shock, and set directly between her legs. Before she could sit up all the way, she felt something wet roll down the inside of her thighs. Several other droplets followed suit. When she finally looked to where their bodies met, she saw that indeed, whatever she had just done had splashed across her inner thighs as well as his stomach and lap. She initially wanted to write it off as excess oil, but her cheeks betrayed her, turning an even deeper red before she could even speak. Unable to hide away from the embarrassment, she began to speak.

"I'm--I'm so sorry! I couldn't hold it!" She instinctively cupped her vulva, almost as if she was hiding what happened from him. "...I...oh hells, this is so embarrassing!" But what was truly embarrassing, was that despite her initial shame, her body was having a totally different reaction. It had felt so good, she found herself fighting against a smile. Despite that, she stammered on, "I...guess maybe I could help clean up?"

"No." his reply was simple; his voice was tense with restraint.

No? Her brows were about to knit before she found herself falling back into the bed; her weight was put on her shoulder blades and upper back as Mitsuhide held her off the bed by her hips. All that came from his mouth was an impassioned grunt before he was splitting her open again. A shocked scream got caught in her throat and the sound of his laboured breathing and the squelching of their bodies joining together repeatedly.

"What am I to do with you, hm?" he growled, his face now right above her, his breath fanning across her face. "You were so lovely just now, when you gushed everywhere." The force and speed with which he was taking her was absolutely punishing. She could barely focus on the filth of what he was saying to her. At least until he put his thumb on her clit, catching her full attention from how deftly he stroked it. His voice was low, coated with lust, in her ear when he spoke. "Tell me, did you happen to catch that noise you made when you clenched so hard that you pushed me out of you?"

She was sure she was blushing from that, but she could hardly muster any words between the incoherent and rather undignified noises she was making then. All she could do was shake her head no and hope he got the message.

"A shame," the corner of his mouth turned up. One could argue that he was a bit smug. "Then perhaps I'll have to make it happen again so you can see."

"Again?" she whined. She honestly didn't know if she had it in her (literally). But what she did know was that that same pressure was already building in her core all over again. Somehow, it felt like he was going even deeper than he had before and....whatever she had done had made her even slicker too. There was next to no friction, making his thrusts even more brutal. It was almost too much to take and her eyes started to roll back as she got closer and closer to cumming again.

"No you don't." Mitsuhide gritted out between clenched teeth. His right hand shot up to tangle into her hair and pull just how she silently wished he would. Holding her head by the hair, he forced her to look directly into his eyes. "Don't pass out on me. Stay with me. Focus on how it feels."

She nodded and her eyes refocused as they held his gaze. There was a palpable intensity between the two of them that kept their eyes interlocked even as they were both moving wildly. Her eyebrows pinched together in concentration, in pain, in pleasure. Since he had touching her covered, she brought her hand to hook behind his neck and hold onto the hair at the nape to let him know he had her full attention. As they bonded, she subconsciously opened up to him even further so he could go deeper until she could feel each thrust in her stomach. Her stare stayed leveled with his even as her jaw dropped almost painfully. Her breaths were tiny little squeaks that increased in volume as he moved. She wanted to cry out how good he made her feel but it seemed words were lost on her again. Instead, she kept nodding, encouraging him, and placed her hand over his that was touching her so that he would move it and she could finish stroking herself.

Incidentally, when he put his hand back down on the bed, he was able to really anchor down and hit it even harder. The jolt that she felt from that first thrust made her momentarily squeeze her eyes shut, but with a light love tap on her cheek, Mitsuhide reminded her to open them back up for him. It didn't last long though, as after five pumps of that, she cried out and frantically squirmed off of him, gushing again as she clenched at the sheets while she caught her breath again.

Her whole body was buzzing from her scalp where he had been holding her to her still-curled toes. Even though she had just done that thing she found so embarrassing, she couldn't stop herself from smiling. In the midst of her heavy panting, the feeling of damp cloth at her tailbone indicated that Mitsuhide had pulled her back towards him. Almost immediately, she felt his tip gliding between her lips again.

"Oh, you are absolutely breathtaking like ths," he groaned, the sound of it stirring her up all over again. He growled under his breath as he rubbed himself against her clit, "but I can't have you getting away like that anymore."

"Ahh, forgive me, please..." she whimpered, her hips bucking against him, begging to be filled again. "I promise I'll stay still this time."

His eyes were almost angry with lust as he grinned down at her. He lined himself up to sink back in as he said, "I'll hold you to your word." And with that, he sheathed himself in her again.

She gasped again. It still felt as if she had just came, and her thighs shook at his sides. Acknowledging her sensitivity, Mitsuhide went slower than what his carnal instincts wanted him to. The sound and feel of her sopping wetness tempted him. "You've gotten so wet for me," he breathed. "I didn't think it possible for you to get any wetter than before." Normally, Mitsuhide would craft his words with much more care than this, but it was as if she had somehow washed away his mental filter. His mind was a chaotic fray of so many erotic visions and sensations that he almost found himself lost in them. He stopped all the way inside for a moment, tensing completely when she started to whine and grind herself against him in protest. They both reveled in the slickness that joined them before Mitsuhide continued, "It's driving me crazy. Forgive me if I'm being too....mmm," he paused at the feeling of her clenching around him and captured her mouth with his own to refocus himself. When their lips parted, the fog had cleared away so that he could see the woman that he cherished so much looking up at him with so much love and anticipation that it was almost overwhelming.

"I love you," he breathed, his forehead resting against hers. "I love you so dearly."

Her eyes practically melted into tears. "I love you too. I love everything about you, everything you've done for me...." she paused to take a breath as he kissed away the moisture welling in the corner of her eye. "And you make me feel so good..."

That whisper caught his attention. His eyes steeled up again, "Oh, do I?" That question wasn't asking for reassurance; it was him coaxing Her to keep talking.

"Yes!" Her voice caught for a moment as he started to thrust into her lightly. She could feel each and every ridge and vein against her. "You...you gave me that drink tonight...and then you...did that, and you....touched me..."

The depth of her hot blush spurred him on further. Her slickness was now audible as he moved his hand between them. "Do you like it when I touch you?"

"I love it when you touch me!" Her pupils were dilated in her wide eyes as she looked up at him, a vision of innocence despite the obvious. "Your hands...they're so skilled. Yet so rough-- Oh! I love it when you're rough too!" Something about admitting that to him was deeply humiliating to her, so her head turned away from him towards the door. However, Her line of sight was immediately brought back to him when he tangled his hand back in her hair.

"Shall I be rough with you then?" His voice was low, and in any other circumstance, one would say it dripped with danger. His eyes boring into hers made her burn with desire to the point where it was almost too much. But while she wasn't paying attention, he had put all of his weight on her. At that point, there was truly no escape from the onslaught of his passion, so she swallowed down her shame and looked him deep in the eyes as he kept fucking her.

"Please be rough with me!" she begged him in earnest. "When you...when you hold me like that, it drives me crazy, it feels so good! I-- Sometimes I wish I could just keep you like this inside of me and just--!!"

He claimed her lips once more, drinking in the rest of her confessions before bringing his lips to her ear. "Then I need you to keep me in. I need you to take every last part of me and I need you to keep it for me, my love." Admittedly, he had intended to let her keep talking, but he was much closer than he initially realized and the urge to kiss her was far too strong to ignore. He was giving her his all at that point. Any semblance of caution or restraint was long gone as he got closer and closer to the edge. He buried his face in her neck to suck on it as he pounded away.

"Yes, I will! I will-- Oh, hells keep doing that!" her voice was a whole octave higher as she held onto him like her life depended on it. She was in absolute awe of his mastery of her body. Each stroke was so long and went so deep, and he simultaneously sucked on her neck and jaw so expertly, it felt like he was deliberately trying to make her pass out. Yet something about how rough he was being -something about how he wanted to keep taking her even through her own orgasms- made her feel a little bit like she was being used....which, compounded with everything, drove her straight to climax.

Her walls sputtered around him, yet no matter how hard she clenched down, he fought to keep fucking her until her body relented and began to relax as she clung to him. He wasn't that far after her though, as that tightness propelled him towards his climax too. He finished in her with a very satisfied groan.

They laid there, tangled up within each other and catching their breath for a long while before Mitsuhide lifted his head to push her sweaty bangs aside and kiss her forehead. She hummed quietly as he did. Their eyes met for a moment before their lips met in a slow and gentle kiss. Nothing urgent, nothing forceful, just the two of them enjoying the feeling of lips on lips.

"Shall I clean us up?" he asked, breaking off the kiss much to her disappointment. She had to admit she could feel the layer of sweat and other fluids coating her body, so she nodded back at him, unsure if her voice would come out without cracking.

Mitsuhide carefully rose up. He watched her face as she gasped at the obscene sound of him slipping out of her. It made him want to lean back in and bite her lower lip one last time, but he held back because she looked like she was ready to fall asleep.

He went to fetch the small water basin he kept in preparation by the desk. When he knelt back down between her thighs, he gently lifted them to place a dry towel underneath her. Upon lowering her hips back down, he got a good look at the mess they had made. Through the dim light, he could see their combined juices of exertion and arousal still dripping out of her and stuck to her inner thighs. He felt his mouth watering again. Even though he should have been behaving himself by then, he couldn't get the thought of one last taste out of his mind. Setting the remaining towel aside, he quietly laid down on his stomach. She was none the wiser until she felt a soft kiss on her inner thigh.

"Mmn...Lord Mitsuhide?" maybe she had dozed off after all.

"Please forgive me if I woke you," he breathed, sliding his forearms beneath her legs, "but I can't, in good conscience, leave you to sleep without cleaning you up first." His grin was seductive, and his eyes hungry, as he looked up at her again, his breath tickling her still sensitive sex. "Is that alright with you?"

She truly was exhausted, but she did prefer not to wake up all sticky. It wasn't like she could resist those eyes on her anyway. "Yes."

He squeezed her thighs before immediately dipping his face down to the side and sucking on her inner thigh. "Excellent," he groaned after releasing the soft skin with a distinct pop. He caught it back in his mouth, licking at it and grazing it with his teeth until the area was completely clean. He continued his trail until he reached the junction where her leg met her hip. He noticed she had begun panting again, so with a rather devilish grin, he gave her thigh one last playful nip before switching to the other to do the same.

"Oh...that's not fair..." she whimpered. Maybe he did really only intend to clean her off, but he was waking her back up in more ways than one.

On that leg, Mitsuhide took a little more time to cherish the feel of her soft skin under his tongue. He hadn't originally intended to leave any marks, but when he parted from her, he noticed that he left a faint hickey behind. As he was slowly working his way up, he felt her hand on top of his head. He looked up to see her propped up on one arm to look him in the eyes.

"Please don't tease me anymore." Her voice was shaky and coarse, but the urgency in her voice almost made it seem angry.

"Of course," he murmured. His eyes were glued to her face as he licked her up from beneath her entrance to the hood of her clit. His eyes closed back when the combination of their essences coated his tongue. He moaned, his nose buried in her folds too. He could feel her whole body shake as he did so and he heard the soft thud of her lying back down. His tongue laved at her inner labia before suckling them between his lips to catch any remaining juices.

He heard her moaning again and felt her feet squirming around him. While she did, he lifted his head to watch her pussy wriggle along with her hips. "Beautiful..." he whispered, drawing in close to gently kiss her inner lips. Once she settled back down, he carefully dipped his tongue into her, something he had been waiting so patiently to do. He scooped and probed for any remaining arousal that hadn't been pushed out of her. He did his best to commit the feel and flavor to memory as she spasmed around him. By that point, she was clearly very close. Before he could search for the evidence of himself inside of her, he pulled his tongue out and latched onto her clit, suckling and licking it until she came with an exasperated gasp.

"Okay, okay, no more!" She was panting as she ran her hands through his hair. "You won!" He crawled back up to her face to steal one last kiss from her. She accepted his kiss, wrapping her arms around him again until she shuddered against him and pulled away. "I'm serious! I don't think I have anymore left in me."

Mitsuhide looked down between them and it turned out he had subconsciously started rubbing her again.

He dropped his head, guilty as charged, "It would seem I'm wholly unable to keep my hands off of you at the moment."

She combed through his hair, fixing the wild flyaways and admiring the afterglow on his handsome face. "Then hold me while we sleep."

"Very well then," he positioned himself at her side, allowing her to use his arm as a pillow. He let her put her arm around his waist as she curled up next to him. "You were an absolute delight tonight," he stated plainly, a smile in his voice.

"You were a force to be reckoned with." her statement made him snort with laughter before she could continue. "I don't think I could withstand that on a regular basis. It could probably kill me." Despite her words, she couldn't wipe the grin off her face.

"That's fair. But what if we saved it for special occasions? I must admit, I am quite a fan of your newfound abilities," he said suggestively, referring to what occurred under the towel they laid on.

She lightly smacked him on the back; she wasn't ready to talk about that yet. "...I'm okay with that." She hid her face in his chest so he wouldn't see how hard she was blushing.

He hadn't meant to tease her, so he kissed the top of her head and embraced her. "I love you," he said, cradling her close.

"I love you too. Thank you for tonight," she lifted her head to look him in the eyes, "Thank you for everything." They shared one last tender kiss before dozing off into perfect, dreamless sleep.

#slbp fanfic #slbp mitsuhide #slbp mitsuhide x reader #my writing #fanfics

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midnightbluefox · 7 years ago

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Our Reylo Discord server, The Reylo Writing Den @thereylowritingden, held its second fic gift exchange, in which over 40 people participated! The amount of talent in all of these writers, and the effort that they put into their fics, is absolutely stunning. Please enjoy all of the quality new Reylo content and support some really skilled and giving authors.

+ fic is mature/explicit

* fic is a WIP/ currently incomplete

________________________

+ The One in Which She Takes His Hand by @saturninefeline for @filthyreylo : "I’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this bullet inside me like the bullet was already there, like it’s been waiting inside me the whole time." - "Wishbone", Richard Siken

Floricorpse by @nite0wl29 for AmberDread : Never ask what could go wrong on Halloween in Transfiguration class. Ben and Rey are about to find out first hand.

+* The Curse of the Forgotten Tomb by @spiegatrixlestrange for @gopherbroke : Rey falls, not so accidentally, into an ancient, untouched burial chamber during an archeology project in Egypt. All the hints lead to the fact that the owner of the chamber had been cursed. It might be the most important discovery in Rey's career, but the consequence of disturbing a dead man's slumber will haunt her for a pretty long time.

+ Spine Tingling by @reysexualkylo for @sand-its-everywhere : Haunted house worker and the person who gets scared and punched them in the face au

+* A Love Sent From Hell by @minkel23 to @kylotrashforever : At night while he sleeps, Professor Ben Solo is visited by a woman. A woman who appears out of nowhere. A woman who disappears into nothing. A woman who makes him want to weep with both fear and desire. The woman of his dreams, though she comes wrapped in a nightmare.

When he discovers an old book, full of ancient spells, he suddenly realises he can bring his dream woman to life.

But all dreams come at a price, and all spells are followed by demons. But is the demon one Ben really wants to face?

+* From R to Kylo by @sand-its-everywhere to @quixoticlux : Ben and Rey are archaeologists who absolutely cannot stand each other. They also happen to be pen pals, but they don't know who the other is, until one night they get trapped together at a creepy excavation site, and suddenly their hatred begins to unravel.

+ Unfinished Business by @kylotrashforever by @lilia-ula : All her life Rey has seen things she shouldn’t. She’s spent the greater part of the last decade helping errant spirits move on from this life, helping them to find the closure they seek and cross over. When a request comes in seeking her help to rid an architectural firm of a particularly grumpy haunt, she doesn’t hesitate to answer the call. Kylo Ren may be the most handsome haunt she’s ever faced, but that won’t stop her from helping him settle his unfinished business... even if she doesn’t realize he’s not actually dead

A silly ghost story with a ghostly mixup and a not so ghostly Kylo Ren.

+ you’re my boo by @filthyreylo for @reyloner : Rey's neighbor Ben Solo is the only one who ever shows Halloween spirit around here. When she discovers he's moving out, she's only hurt because that means she won't have anymore competition... right?

So she sets out on a plan to make him stay.

+* Of Yoga and Werewolves by @inmyownidiom for @aknightofwren : Rey isn't obsessed with Ben. Not at all. She just really enjoys staring at his ass as it moves beneath yoga pants. When she starts seeing him outside of the yoga studio, Rey slowly realizes that Ben has been keeping something from her: something dark, something awful, and something that doesn't have anything to do with yoga pants.

Their relationship is about to seriously transform.

+* Unmasked by @wewantreylo for @attackofthedarkcurses : When Rey meets a masked guy at Maz's annual Halloween party, she is instantly smitten. Her mystery man is perfect -- compassionate, protective and a dedicated Star Wars fan, just like her. It's like he was made for her. There's only one problem.

She doesn't know Kylo Ren is actually her asshole coworker, Ben Solo.

+ The Mystery of Pumpkin Spice by @intp-slytherin97 for @brwrites2187 : Someone in the apartment likes pumpkin spice (spoiler alert: it's Ben)...and Rey decides to make all a little more complicated.

***

Pumpkin pie, pumpkin spice yogurt, pumpkin spice cream cheese, pumpkin spice cottage cheese, pumpkin spice potato chips—

Who the fuck eats pumpkin spice potato chips? Dear god, not even he would.

However, Ben brilliantly remained neutral every time someone brought up the sudden appearance of these pumpkin spice inspired and flavored items. Claiming at every moment he did not know who bought them.

Because he honestly had no idea who was fucking with him.

Someone in the apartment clearly knew of his little…pumpkin spice addiction. And decided to use to garner his attention—well two can play at that game.

I’m Not Freaking Out by @reyofdarkness for @reyloandotherfandoms : Intrepid ghost-hunters Ben and Rey are used to crawling in, around, and under abandoned places to get their share of spooks and scares (all fake, of course; they know ghosts aren't real). But when they come across an old schoolhouse with a haunted history, the TV magic might take a dive into the actually supernatural.

*You Bury Me by @attackofthedarkcurses for @reylocalligraphy : Rey visits her grandfather, who resides in the bed next to Padme Amidala, at the nursing home daily. Padme has the month of October left to live. What happens when Ben, who hasn’t talked to his grandmother in decades, decides to start visiting the nursing home every day?

+* Honey, I’m Home by @reyloner for @inmyownidiom : When Rey confesses her opinion on Halloween, or lack thereof more like, Ben Solo takes up the challenge in changing her mind; to make her see that October 31st is a day worth celebrating. And what better way to show her the spooky spirit than paying a visit to the grand Victorian house (rumoured to be haunted) that once belonged to his grandparents?

However, unbeknownst to Ben, the house has a whole mind of its own. And much like him, the spirits within also have a goal to complete:

To resolve the heady tension that circulates between the pair and force out the real confessions that need to be heard.

+* Hallowed Heat by @gopherbroke for @twinkitten : As the steady babysitter, Rey is accompanying Mr. Solo and his son, Grey, to the city's big Halloween Fest. It is a little too late when she realizes that she had broken Mr. Solo's rigid contract and had forgotten her suppressants. She flees, hiding in the portapotty as she starts to go into heat.

While Mr. Solo paces, impatient and bossy, on the other side of the thin plastic door, Rey looks back on her relationship with her boss and how he has changed from hostile employer to friend... to Alpha?

But would he ever be her Alpha?

And how long will that flimsy door hold back Alpha like Mr. Solo from an Omega that smells as sweet as Rey?

... Grey had always said how much his father had a sweet tooth.

+ As We Collide by @aknightofwren for @hellomelusine : “Damn it Rey! How do you accidentally summon a dead Witch of Dathomir?!” yelled Ben as he dodged a plate sailing through the air towards him.

Unknotting Unknots by @reylocalligraphy for @moonshotsandarchimedeslevers : Rey doesn’t know who moves first. Maybe they both do, his lips crashing down and her body leaning forward. Their lips meet in a tender, careful clash. He has such gentle lips, so easy to melt into, but too soon, he breaks the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers instantly. His eyes are wide with fear, the oh my god I just kissed an Alpha without her permission look. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

***

Rey’s world is turned upside down when she meets Ben Solo—an Omega unlike any she’s ever met before.

+ Southern Shadows and Howling Horrors by @twinkittenfor @kill-these-lights : Rey and her friends are just looking for a quiet place to go on their college break, and settle on the small southern town of Endor for a bit of camping and hiking. Ben Solo is a sheriff trying to bring his sleepy southern town out of the dark ages and keep everyone happy and safe. No one is safe when a monster decides to stalk the campers; Ben and Rey are caught in a whirlwind of romance and horror as they both fight the idea that something supernatural lives in the woods.

With a Swoop of the Pen by @armltagehux for @awshuxhux : Ben Solo, bestselling thriller author, is struggling to write the final book of his trilogy. His agent, Hux, sends him to Salem, Massachusetts in October in an attempt to get him into the "spooky" mindset. An impulse buy in a kitchy Halloween shop lands Ben with a calligraphy set that supposedly has enchanted properties which manifest whatever he writes into reality. He puts it to the test in a nearby coffee shop where he works on his novel almost daily, much to the entertainment of the cute barista, Rose.

+ To Be Brave by @mizuphoenix for @kpopandstarwarswhynot : Rey Niima finds herself going through a haunted house with her not friend, and secret crush, Ben Solo. Why she thought that was a good idea in the first place she had no idea. It was Halloween so she might as well try to be brave.

She had many fears, but she was going to have to face the one fear she held above even that of clowns.

+* Love is a misunderstanding between two fools by @greyforceuser for @thecalrissianchronicals : Ben Solo has been too afraid to ask out the girl he's been in love with for years, Rey. He tries to impress her by going as Kylo Ren to the Halloween costume party. Rey shows up in the sexiest costume he's ever seen. Could she possibly have worn it for him? The only thing he is sure about is that she must be trying to kill him.

+* The Lioness by @lilia-ula for @bunilicious : Rey had long ago dismissed many of the more fanciful beliefs of her people, including that of the Ghost Moon. As far as she was concerned, the dead most definitely weren’t interested in rising from their graves to hunt the living on the eve of her birthday.

There was one ghost, however, of whose presence she was certain, as evinced year after year on the eventide of autumn.

It was said that he took the form of a man, but possessed the great wings of a bat. That he was enchanting to behold, with hair black as a starless sky and skin like rare alabaster, but that his mouth was a rictus of daggers stained with the blood of his victims.

*Anything to Win by @happilyeveraftereveryday for @intp-slytherin97 : Rey hates losing.

She hates losing almost more than she loves winning.

Which is why she's in the ridiculous position of asking Kylo Ren, the very person who keeps beating her at the singles costume contest, to team up with her to dominate the couples contest and trounce Phasma and Hux once and for all.

Working with Kylo is a necessary evil, but really, she'd do anything to win. Anything!

Unless... it's falling in love.

* The Rule of Three by @reyloandotherfandoms for @happilyeveraftereveryday : Sometimes you have to meet the love of your life more than once.

+*Little Red by @j-dryless for @wewantreylo : For as long as she’s known, something inside her has always been there.

Mostly it’s been asleep.

But now it’s awake.

And she’s afraid.

From circumstances she can’t control, Rey gets a new job, a new home, and a new neighbor—the Big Bad Wolf.

Decades to Fall by @rrwilson66 for @armltagehux : He's not sure when it happened or if he's always felt it.

Maybe it was when they were children? Pretending to be brave ghost hunters, racing down the halls of the Hux residence.

Or it could have been when she dragged him to that stupid Halloween party in that ridiculous costume?

Or when they attended the local fall fair? Which he still counts as their first date.

He's not sure when it occurred, he doesn't really care because he knows one thing.

Armitage Hux is utterly in love with Rey Kantana!

What may come by @mrsmancuspia for @nite0wl29 : A little ficlet that got longer than expected.

+* Sinful by @kpopandstarwarswhynot for @mrsmancuspia : Who would have thought that a pair of pretty eyes could lead to the path of eternal damnation? +* The Dinner Party by @bunilicious for @monsterleadmehome : The boy she once knew was now a man. Now, inexplicably, the innocence and vivacity of a young girl’s first love seemed to blossom, growing into that of a woman on the cusp of something tremendous – the awareness of her sensuality. A new yearning bloomed inside her with each passing second – and the innocent butterflies, which had fluttered in her stomach at the thought of the boy she cherished, were engulfed in scorching flames. It was a fire that now rendered her breathless and desiring of something that only the man she loved could provide. As Ben took her hand in his to escort her to dinner, Rey became overwhelmed by a tingling sensation for which she had no name – a slick moisture which gathered at the apex of her thighs, a swollen nub which demanded to be touched and nurtured… like a small bud blossoming in a garden that refused to remain dormant.

A REYLO VICTORIAN AU

+* Tryptophan and Serotonin by @monsterleadmehome for @j-dryless : Ben Solo hates Thanksgiving at his family's house. However, this year, his mother has invited a special guest - Rey Abrams, the girl he's been crushing on at work. When Ben consumes too much turkey, he falls asleep on the couch and has a rather vivid dream about Rey. Will he be able to hold his composure and finally ask her out?

+* Sunflower and Pumpkins by @i-live-in-the-reylo-moon for @delia-pavorum : Professor Ben Solo hates Halloween but thanks to his pushy colleagues Proffesors Hux and Phasma he is persuaded to attend the annual Halloween party Poe Dameron is throwing in the hope of seeing the beautiful young woman he passes on campus each morning. When he finds her he is instantly smitten. But does that mean he'll start to love All Hallows' Eve?

The Halloween Heist by @rebelrebelreylo for @midnightbluefox and @loveofescapism : Clyde Logan was done with “cauliflower” schemes. But, unlike Jimmy, Sadie still had sway over him. That was why he’d slipped away from her elementary school party and was sneaking into her teacher’s classroom — all to steal her sacred Halloween hoard back.

+* This Is Us Colliding by @moonshotsandarchimedeslevers for @minkel23 : Desperate to save her bakery from going out of business, Rey decides to steal apples from Varykino Orchards. Things go awry when Ben catches her in the act. But instead of turning her in, Ben makes an interesting proposal...

An apple-picking twist on Beauty and the Beast/Snow White. Dedicated to the lovely and talented minkel23 who came up with the brilliant prompt. +* We Shall Be Monsters by @kill-these-lights for @avidvampirehunter : “The things you see there are not exactly real.”

Rey's just trying to follow Master Luke's latest cryptic lesson. She didn't expect for Kylo Ren to land on the same strange world in a remote corner of the galaxy. However, on this planet, nothing is what it appears to be, and the two must band together to overcome the visions surrounding them, if they can bear to face the Darkness within...

+ Fall by AmberDread for @aniskym : Autumn, the leaves are changing, soon to fall, when Kylo takes Rey away for a long weekend to the country - he knows she'll love his grandmother's cabin in the woods.

Unfortunately for him, his long-estranged twin brother Ben arrives a few hours after them. Ben was looking forward to chilling out somewhere quiet after being away on tour for two years in Iraq, he isn't especially pleased to find the cabin isn't empty, but he tries to make the most of it, and can't help enjoying every time he makes Kylo's girlfriend smile.

+ all of life’s problems by @delia-pavorum for @greyforceuser : “Anyway, Ben.” Poe was already inching in the direction of the kitchen, where a group of people all dressed like the clown from IT - with varying degrees of success - were loudly chanting the word “shots” over and over again. “I’m going to let you get comfortable, grab a drink, and get settled in. And, hey--” He paused, which made Ben turn to look at him. “--Try and have some fun for once, yeah?”

With a wink, he threw his arm over Finn’s shoulder and they both took their leave. “Take care of my boy, Rey!” he called over his shoulder just as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Ben quickly looked over at Rey, who was staring at him once more over the rim of her cup, her eyes twinkling.“I don’t need babysitting,” he muttered, tone surly.“Oh, shut it,” she responded good-humoredly. “Let’s get you a drink.”

When Ben Solo reluctantly attends a Halloween Party being thrown by his former roommate from med school, he gets more than he bargained for once he encounters the only other person there without a costume.

* Mischief Night by @brwrites2187 for @i-live-in-the-reylo-moon : Rey and Ben Solo, newlyweds, are all dressed up in costume for a night of Halloween parties, hosted by Poe Dameron and the Hux family. But, when Finn ends up in the hospital for an emergency surgery, Rose recruits the Solos to take her and Finn's daughters trick-or-treating. They help out the Ticos, and that Halloween night will definitely be one no one forgets.

+ The Tengu of Takodana by @avidvampirehunter for @thewayofthetrashcompactor : The forest of Takodana has been cursed by a Tengu, a demon of nature and war. Rey, a young warrior, is summoned to defeat the beast, reclaim the Seed, and restore the forest to its rightful state.

But not all seeds come in pods.

+* Frightful Nights by @hellomelusine for @reyofdarkness : Rey had met Ben six weeks ago at this fireside ghost story event a friend of a friend of a friend was running. Ridiculously named Frightful Nights, but they promised free s’mores and hot chocolate, so really, Rey owed it to herself to attend. Ben was there looking more than a little forlorn in his own, and well, Rey’s true motivator for going over and striking up conversation was because the dude was hot. And now, he had promised to stop by her place of work. Rey didn't care how tough he thought he was. She was going to scare him.

+* measured out my life (with caf spoons) by @mnemehoshiko for @saturninefeline : All Ben Solo wants is a cup of plain caf. The universe feels otherwise.

+ Paint It Black by @quixoticlux for @mizuphoenix : “Look, I don’t have any candy.” He smirked, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing his massive arms. Rey tried not to stare at his bicep muscles pulled taut. “Unless you’re looking for something else sweet…”

Rey somehow managed to tear her gaze away from his bare skin, forcing herself to focus on his eyes. Which she realized belatedly was just as dangerous. “Unless that ‘something sweet’ happens to be a new painting…”

Rey's an Artist Liaison for Resistance Gallery in Manhattan. Kylo Ren is a mysterious artist she's been after for months. What happens when she loses a bet and has to show up on his doorstep on Halloween, in costume?

* harvest moon and autumn sun by @thewayofthetrashcompactor for @spiegatrixlestrange : After years on her own, Rey's found a job at Resistance Tattoos. It's not a bad gig. She has friends who understand that magic isn't as fictional as most people believe and who put up with her after the full moon. They've got a pretty good thing going on, but she's not sure the flower shop moving in across the street fits into that. Especially with how strange the new owner smells. And what kind of gardener is so pale? Rey decides she's going to find out. +* Probably gonna die here by @thecalrissianchronicals for @reysexualkylo : So yeah Rey was a bit scared of being alone in a corn maze, at night, in the middle of nowhere, probably about to be murdered.

She absolutely blamed Ben Solo for it.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #reylo moodboard #reyloween #reylo discord server #rey #ben solo #kylo ren #star wars #reylo modern au #reylo coffeeshop #reylo harry potter #reylo abo #reylo fall

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whereisvanderwood · 7 years ago

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could I request the rfa + v and saeran reacting to mc telling them they're asexual (either sex repulsed or just isn't interested and therefor not wanting to have sex)? if this counts a nsfw/isn't something you'd like to write for that's 100% okay! thank you for your time (and I'd totally be interested in that discord server)!

This request really piqued my interest to be honest. I can realate to these types of feelings in my personal life. I’ve never written anything about this kind of topic before, so I hope it’s alright!! Thank you for YOUR time!

And I’m SO GLAD you’re interested! I’d love to post the link soon! Keep an eye out for it! <33 The server is open for any fanficion writers or OC makers to join. Experience does not matter– you can be a newbie or a veteran of the art and you’ll all be equally as welcome.

RFA + Another Story reacting to MC confessing she’s asexual.

*:･ﾟ✧

YOOSUNG

It wasn’t really something the two of you spoke about frequently, or even joked about. You were both the shy type, and any mention of the topic paints the boy’s face a tomato red.

But… it was something you were meant to do in a relationship, right? It was part of being in love.

The more time passed, the more worried you became about the topic. The relationship was a total hit and it seemed to be nothing but working.

But then one day, he decided to be a man.

“MC, can I talk to you about something?”

“What’s up?”

“I uh… I’m not sure how else to put this but… do you think we should… you know… do it?”

“‘It’?”

“Yeah… ‘it’. It’s what couples are supposed to… do, isn’t it?”

You could tell how much courage it took him just to even bring it up, so you thought it best to be courteous enough to give him the truth.

He didn’t quite understand the concept at first, but he did when you forced yourself to go into a little more detail about it.

It was important that he knew it didn’t change your love for him. It was just one element of the relationship that didn’t seem compulsory to you.

“I… I understand.”

You apologised for not bringing it up sooner, and became worried that it could potentially mean the end of your relationship with him.

He told you it didn’t matter to him at all. If it meant you could still waste hours upon hours in a day playing LOLOL together and doing all the same things you loved doing together, it didn’t matter to him in the slightest.

ZEN

Being with Zen made your world seem so perfect, and everything you would worry about would dissipate into nothingness with him in your life.

You didn’t like it when he would talk about his “inner beast”, or how men are greedy in that way.

It was on the first night you ever visited him to make sure he was alright, suggested by majority of the RFA, Jaehee excluded of course.

It was obvious to anyone that sparks had begun flying between the two of you, and something was bound to ignite the start of a lasting love sooner than later.

Sitting on the roof together, watching the stars as he opened himself up to you calmed your nerves so much. Your eyes rested on his angelically pale face as he spoke with that heart-melting voice of his. You slowly began to not feel so afraid as what you were much earlier in the day.

“Hey… Zen? You know that… ‘inner beast’ of yours?”

“Y-Yeah?”

what’s its name?

“Well… I don’t think… I have an… ‘inner beast.’”

You loved that he knew exactly what you were talking about the moment the words left your beautifully plush lips.

You watched every little feature on his face for a hint of disappointment, a twitch in annoyance, anything. But he looked somewhat… relieved?

Maybe he was much more nervous about the topic than you originally anticipated.

While the atmosphere was what it was – one of being a safe environment where you could say anything - you went into it a little more, considering how Zen had just been very open about his own personal life with you.

“You should know that I don’t accept you any less, MC. And… I’m sorry if me talking about it every now and then makes you feel uncomfortable.”

He promised you he wouldn’t do anything that you didn’t like or crossed your personal boundaries.

You even let him give you a nice warm hug to finish off the night you had together.

JAEHEE

She used to think she was asexual herself for a really long time, but it wasn’t until you came along that she discovered her true orientation.

Have you ever seen a girl so beautiful your sexuality changed

She didn’t really have any female friends either, so she just assumed that’s how she was.

When the two of you began to catch up more outside of the RFA, and especially when you ran your own coffee house together, you both knew you were more than just “friends” at this point.

But for you, you didn’t want to go much further than that. You were happy with how things had been going on the surface, and you were happy with not talking about “bedroom” topics. All you knew was that you didn’t want anything to do with it.

And from what it looked like to you, Jaehee was just as happy.

So it was you who approached first, wondering where her own standing with it the concept was. You were curious.

“Jaehee? Are you busy?”

“Not at all, MC. Is something bothering you?”

“You could say that…”

You opened with expressing your understanding that she’s still relatively new with this whole relationship thing, and it can be a little rocky for anyone who’s still discovering their own colour of love.

When you confessed your own feelings towards intercourse, you didn’t expect her to react the way she did. In fact, you at least expected somewhat of a reaction, not a smile and nod.

“To be honest, I had a suspicion that might be the case. But it doesn’t matter to me, MC.”

She openly expressed how she was happy just doing what the two of you had been doing thus far, and being completely content with it being the way your relationship is defined, even though it might seem to others that you’re just best friends and not really in love.

She still loved you to bits.

JUMIN

His own disinterest in women for the longest time lead him to identify himself as the same way.

But this man kept you in his house for nearly a whole week with his possessiveness and desire to keep you close to him. You couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than to tell him you weren’t, naturally, sexually attracted to anyone.

There were plenty of occasions where he talked about potentially “getting closer as a couple”, and he wasn’t afraid to voice his romantic desires ever since you came knocking on his door.

He still considered himself a Christian, however, and within its belief system he wanted to try and abstain from sex before marriage.

“MC, may I have a moment of your time?”

At each of his attempts to spark conversation of the topic, nothing wanted to make you cave in on yourself. It was never a nice, let alone easy, thing to talk about with you.

You tried to avoid it as much as you could, but you could only avoid it for so long.

“What do you think about having sex with me?”

His bluntness took you off guard, especially with that one word you hated hearing.

“I, umm… I don’t think I’m really… interested right now, Jumin.”

“What do you mean ‘not interested’?”

He wouldn’t back down. So you toughened up and spelt it out for him. Curse him and his confidence. You only wished you weren’t as afraid of confrontation like him.

“I understand your feelings, MC. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me in the first place.”

You felt more at ease whenever you were around him after overdue conversation was out in the open. You no longer felt like he might pounce on you like Elizabeth the 3rd when you least expect it, putting you in the worse position you could imagine.

But you were grateful for his understanding and acceptance of your feelings.

SEVEN

Especially when he’d been out on a long and hard mission, all he’d want is you. He can’t stand being away from you, and it makes him feel terrible, too. Quality time with you is one of his favourite things in the world.

In the earlier years of your relationship, you’d actually tried the experience for yourself, much to your prior disinterest – you felt it to be more of an obligation than a pleasure.

But since after that, you’d found yourself left unsatisfied, or perhaps ‘bored’ would be a more accurate description. You were positive you should’ve felt some sort of spark, or at least an unquenchable craving for love.

The door of the bunker opened, and you met him at the front door. He closed it before his comrade-in-arms could even enter.

You shared a beautifully warm hug with him. One that didn’t need words to express how much you missed the other’s presence with the exception of a ticklish breath of “I missed you” in your ear.

Even that didn’t evoke any underlying desires. Oddly, you suddenly felt sad about it.

You felt his hands move from behind your neck to your waist, and his lips brush your neck as they came to meet yours, but not before planting a few pecks here and there on your cheek.

It was a harmless kiss, but you felt him begin to slowly increase in passion. You moved your hands to in front of you, slightly pushing against his chest.

“Seven, w-wait.”

He stopped straight away, the last thing him wanting to do being making you uncomfortable in any way.

You felt terrible for confessing what you wish you didn’t have to ruin. You felt like you’d lied to him since your first ‘experience’ with him.

He listened without a joke in sight, his ears wide open. With a simple nod, he spoke;

“Okay… let’s just take it slow. I’ll love you no matter what anyway, my 606.”

V - JIHYUN

The mint-eyed photographer was somewhat someone you could share your present feelings to an extent.

Since his abusive and damaging relationship with Rika, he’d more or less been subjected to not the most pleasant of sexual experiences. For a number of years, he’d been put off from any desire to re-engage in any type of bedroom activities.

He was afraid of the intimacy. As much as he believed he deserved every bit of Rika’s infliction, it didn’t take away the fear of the moment. Whereas with you, you had no sexually intimate craving whatsoever.

Out of the two of you, he was even more hesitant to begin a relationship than you were, and you were honestly convinced you wouldn’t meet someone as apprehensive about romance as yourself.

There were plenty of moments where you even questioned if what you really had could be deemed as a relationship at all. But you knew he was still recovering from a broken history.

“V… do you still feel love?” you asked him one day.

“I do… but I believe it’s a different kind of love than what the recognized meaning is.”

You saw the nervousness in his face from just the one sentence.

“I think I know what you mean.”

At most, the two of you would engage in the little acts of affection. Holding hands, cuddling, maybe a few kisses on the forehead and some hair play, but it wouldn’t escalate much further than that.

The both of you were plenty happy to keep it that way. As long as you were both content, it never seemed like the relationship wasn’t progressing to either one of you.

SAERAN

He craved the closeness, since being deprived of any love at all from his mother, brother, even his ‘Saviour’. You turned his world upside down.

But those three days in Mint Eye, when he still struggled with his serious case of dual personalities, the physical torment he put you through was one of the worse things you could fear to experience.

He already felt terrible about the matter, and hadn’t even stopped apologising about it yet, even months after the event. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that one extra detail.

But for the most of it, you didn’t have to pick him up on any behaviour you didn’t approve of. In fact, he generally kept some physical distance from you in fear that he might hurt you again. It would be soul-crushing.

You reassured him that him sitting next to you, touching shoulders, on the couch while snuggle was perfectly fine with you, and there was nothing to be afraid of. After all, you wanted closeness with him, too.

Just not that type of closeness.

You still slept in the same bed, but you often subconsciously stayed as close to your end as you were able without falling off. You hadn’t realised he picked up on this behaviour, which is what, according to him, lead him to believe you were still afraid of his proximity.

“I understand if you want to keep your distance, MC. I don’t blame you for being that way around me…”

You sighed. “I’ve forgiven you for everything, Saeran. I promise it’s not you… it’s me.”

After you told him, he was so relieved you could see it all over his face. His shoulders instantly relaxed and he exhaled a held-breath. He held both of your hands and brought them to his lips.

“I don’t care about that at all. As long as you’re by my side, then I’m happy with what we are.”

*:･ﾟ✧ There’s something about making an OC that just makes you feel like a proud parent and it’s so great.

Masterlist! + Request Box!

#mm #mystic messenger #asexual #sexuality #mm headcanon #mystic messenger headcanons #jumin #jaehee #seven #saeyoung #seven zero seven #saeran #zen #yoosung #v #jihyun kim

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0poole · 6 years ago

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My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Good God.

I finally managed to watch the final episodes of the show, and even though it wasn’t the most pitch-perfect ending ever (and even though I skipped like all of the final season), I still gotta dish out my thoughts on the whole thing. It’s not my tippy-top most favorite show, but it’s definitely the one with the most lasting impact on me. I mean, considering it created one of the biggest fandoms of all time, I’m pretty sure I’m far from alone there.

Obviously have to start from the beginning. I think I got into MLP around the 2nd season, maybe in the middle of it but definitely before the 3rd. I don’t exactly remember, since it was so long ago, but the first two seasons might hold some of the most saccharine, mindless nostalgia of all. Every single episode holds some spot in my memory, even the filler episodes with the cheesy notes to Celestia at the end of them. Honestly those were adorable, even if they were the classic kid’s show trope of “Let’s explain the moral to the kids who don’t have half a brain” but it’s actually pretty charming. That’s nostalgia talking, by the way. Obviously. If I found a new show today that did that, I’d roll my eyes a little, and I probably did when I was first watching the show.

But, it’s an understatement that this was my life. Of course, I was at that time of my life where one thing could very easily become my entire world, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t matter to me. The pretty solid, unchanging artstyle gave me an opening to try and draw it, and for years I exclusively drew ponies, and even when I had a human character, I’d only be able to draw them in pony form, so I ended up meshing their stories into fanfiction on how they could become ponies. My “Icon” character at the time, Satyr, was probably the first original character I drew, and I can still remember the exact drawing I made of him. Obviously a pony, he was sort of larger and masculine, conveniently blinking eye so I didn’t have to deal with that, basic hair/tail styles, and for some reason a jagged zig-zag pattern going laterally across his body, like those “How would a horse wear pants?” memes. I thought it was really good, so I kept going, and here I am ages later still drawing stuff. I couldn’t even bare to fully ditch the shitty characters I made (and I’m going to explain them without context because I just feel like it): Satyr got split into his immortal and prince-ly side; Diane, a manic serial killer, shrunk down but kept her impossibly anxious personality; Gaseous is basically all the same, except he doesn’t meet the rest of the crew in what parts of his story I know about; Sistenagon (here we go with the weird names, they don’t mean anything) still kept his (her? Don’t actually remember which I called it) wasp-y nature, except in the form of an insect-based fairy tribe leader; Stelerachyt, who I drew as a Diamond Dog, is still a big, fluffy, dog, but turned into a more regal and kingly type of person; and Myriad Alloy (the only one with an actual pony name) got a complete makeover, and actually became my favorite end result after all is said and done.

Like, I love ranting about these guys. They were basically my own Mane Six. And yes, Satyr TOTALLY dated Twilight. Why wouldn’t he? Main character a Main character. Plus, he was supposed to be me, and I totally wanted to hit that. I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I mean, I guess a big part of why I actually went down that path was because of the large fanbase. I didn’t begin with the beginning of the show, but I guess I came in with the first large wave, so all of the stuff I made got just enough attention to make me think people wanted to see what I was making. If I started out with OCs, no one would’ve cared, and I very well could’ve stopped.

Even apart from that, this show definitely kick started my downward spiral into femininity. I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory. Everyone “knew” MLP as being something super shallow, only to be enjoyed by shallow little girls, then they pumped out Friendship is Magic and everyone else loved it, so I gave it a shot, and I loved it too. Obviously every fandom has the people who openly, irrationally hate them, but the whole thing was welcoming enough to keep it solidified in my mind, and bish bash bosh, it kept going and will probably keep going into eternity. It’s funny, even then I drew Satyr with the more feminine pony design (not entirely because drawing the male pony type was harder), so I was setting myself up for the future.

I guess this kind of gives me a window to talk about My Life as a Teenage Robot, because for as long as I could remember before actually watching the show, I seriously despised any instance of XJ9 I could find. If an image of her popped up on screen, I would close it faster than if it was porn found while around my parents. I don’t know why she was so harshly ingrained in my mind. You could argue I just hated “girly” stuff before I realized I actually loved it, and didn’t want to face my emotions, but I wasn’t exaggerating at all about that porn thing. I actually couldn’t look at her for more than a second. But, one day I decided to cave in and see what was up, and soon enough she became one of my favorite cartoon characters of all time.

Back to ponies, some of the content produced by the fandom also had some extremely fond memories in my mind. I think I still have some songs by The Living Tombstone and WoodenToaster on my MP3 player (partially because it’s just good stuff) and for some reason playing on MLP-themed TF2 servers was actually really fun too. Some notable fandom people reacting to recent episodes was a spectacle I always looked forward to, and I still am subscribed to Saberspark and Ratchet on Youtube after all this time, probably as well as various other people who are still there but haven’t posted anything since the settling of the fandom. I just remembered, Hotdiggetydemon probably qualifies for all that too, since his .Mov series was the talk of the whole fandom. That, and Friendship is Witchcraft. I had to re-look up the name of that one though, but I still loved it.

I guess I should play favorites, huh? Favorites was the one game everyone in the fandom played.

Favorite episode: Can’t not be a tie between the 2-parters of Season 2. Discord is a riot, and Chrysalis is actually one of my favorite villain designs of all time. I’m a sucker for both shapeshifters and bugs, so you can’t expect me to not like her. Glad she rode the villain boat till the very end, although reformed Discord is definitely fine too. Plus, the rest of the Changelings turned anyway.

Favorite song: You expect me to not tie things up here? The Flim Flam brother’s Super Cider Squeezy 6000 is great, as are the brothers themselves, and I also love This Day Aria, since it’s the focal point where people realized this show seriously wasn’t just colorful, cute ponies. The Art of the Dress is also pretty catchy.

Actually, just remembered. Under Our Spell might be it. Took me a while to remember the EQG stuff, but that song is seriously good, and unironically better than the generic dribble that somehow magically beat it.

Favorite background pony(ies): Vinyl and Octavia are a pretty cute duo, and with the killer duet in the Slice of Life episode, ya gotta love em. Funny thing, though: There’s this background pony that looks almost identical to my current self-insert pony OC, with purple hair and a grey coat, with a seemingly writing-based cutie mark and green eyes. He’s even a unicorn too. It wasn’t intentional, I swear.

Favorite CMC: Sweetie Belle is too much. Her little squeaks are too pure. I can’t take it. Applebloom has nice colors, though.

Favorite Princess: If you don’t say Luna you’re a cop

Favorite non-pony species: Obviously Changelings, but after their reformation the honors actually switch to the Kirins, just because of how cool they look. The Yaks are pretty fun too. Speaking of…

Favorite nu-Mane Six (or are they called the School Six? Whatever, you know what I mean): All Yona. And yes, I had to look up her name was, who cares? She’s adorable.

Favorite of the Pillars of Equestria: I honestly love that they made Starswirl an actual character in the show. For the longest time, people just assumed he would stay in the form of Twilight’s Nightmare Night costume forever, but then they actually made him real! That’s really cool.

Favorite Equestria Girls design: Once again, Sweetie Belle steals both this spot and my heart.

And, of course… Favorite of the Mane Six:

Honestly, it just depends on the mood I’m in. Not even remotely lying there.

Fluttershy would’ve been my answer way back then, since I was into the shy types. There’s definitely something still there. You can’t deny that she’s the most cuddly of them all.

Twilight might’ve been a tie for the top around then too, since I was also the too-smart-for-humanity type. That leads into you liking the “smart” ones. Plus, in the latter half of the series, she did feel like she was put one step above the rest of the cast. That kinda makes her feel slightly off, I guess. Still like her, though.

Pinkie Pie’s one of those that I can imagine liking, but if I ever actually had to deal with that much energy I might actually melt. And, not in that I’m-totally-in-love kind of melting. Literal, actual melting.

Rarity, in terms of concept, is easily my favorite type of character for the show. On the surface, she’s the generic fashionista type that every girl’s show has, but instead of her being someone who “just makes clothes” she’s actually seriously hard working and goes through all the regular motions you’d expect from an artist. Turning such a cliche on its head and giving it a much more realistic image is perfect for this show. Also, she’s purple. I like purple.

Not much really needs to be said about Applejack. She really seems like the most logical one of the group, even at the very beginning. That’s great to have when everyone else is acting like spoiled/sheltered brats (at least, when she’s not acting that way either).

But, I really gotta be honest… I’m never really in the mood for Rainbow Dash. She’s like the opposite of AJ, where she’s always some degree of arrogant, and even though watching her achieve her dreams is nice, her big head gets a little annoying for side gags. Also, if you showed me a plain picture of the Mane Six, I would’ve told you she was the main character instead of Twilight, just because she stands out so much more. I mean, the show isn’t called “Twilight Sparkle: Friendship is Magic,” but still.

If you really want a straight answer, I’m in a Rarity mood right now, so I’ll go with that. It’s probably the safest bet, because, like I said, I do love purple. Not just purple, but purple AND white put together. One of my favorite color combinations. Just add a little gold, and you’re, well, you know...

But… Yeah. All good things had to come to an end. I feel like its time came. Plus, they ended the show with the little story book thing they did in the very first episode, so as far as I’m concerned the series is complete. It did its job, anyway.

#mlp #mlp fim #friendship is magic #my little pony #rant #rambling #opinions #nostalgia #poole #cute #mlp 10th anniversary

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