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magicalbats · 12 days

Text

Sanctuary Part 2 (Childe/Foul Legacy x reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 22,687

Warnings: afab!reader, nun!reader, monster fucking, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, piv sex, sex outdoors (in a graveyard), creampie, breeding, sacrilegious content, demonic possession, ritual magic, mentioned age gap, mentioned wlw

A/N: Phew! This ones a doozy. I had SO much fun not only revisiting this narrative but also getting to work with the same commissioner again, and I hope ya'll end up enjoying it too! I really channeled my inner Mary Shelley for this one (iykyk) haha. They wanted to remain anonymous again so without further ado ... enjoy! ❤️

⭐

I call upon you who are in the empty air,

You who are terrible,

Invisible, almighty, a god of gods

You who cause destruction and desolation,

You who were driven out of Teyvat and have roamed foreign lands,

You who shatter everything and are not defeated,

I call upon you …

*~*

It is a rare day when the permanent Snezhnayan chill is not so great that you can take solace out in the courtyard amongst the barren limbed trees and the hardy snow ferns that dot the ground. You are not entirely alone though as people mill about between the gated entrance at the front of the compound and the looming stoic facade of the ancient church but it’s the nearest thing to privacy you can find. And they leave you alone, thankfully, as most unsuspecting passersby would not think to assume interrupting a nun and her reading was in good taste or appropriate given the hallowed surroundings.

Of course that might change if they so much as even suspected what you were reading was hardly of a pious nature, but you try not to linger on that thought for very long.

Consideringly, you glance over the passage at the bottom of the page again. It almost sounded like an incantation to summon rather than to cast out demonic forces and their ilk despite the text clearly indicating that it was supposed to be an exorcism manual. You had some understandable doubts about it.

What you held in your hands was not the sanctified and holy instruction of the church though, but rather the sort of trite pulp the common man peddled in the streets. It was not your first or even second choice to seek guidance from such unreliable sources and yet you’d been left with very little choice in the matter. They wouldn’t let you into the restricted section of the church’s library, for starters. Father Sluhovsky also wouldn’t divulge any pertinent information no matter how much you pestered him about the topics of bedevilment and spiritual possession, for another. Finding yourself essentially backed into a corner, you were left with no other option than to search for your own answers.

Unfortunately those much sought after answers still evaded you and time was quickly running out. That horrid beast, that Foul Legacy as it liked to call itself, had been clear that you retained your freedom only until the next new moon which steadily approached ever closer even now. There were but a handful of days left until the fated hour struck yet you were no closer to ridding yourself of its presence than when you’d started. Nothing you’ve tried as of yet has worked, and all the while that horned fiend has only continued to throw salt in the wound with its clockwork nightly appearances in your dreams, mocking you with its mere existence.

Your singular point of consolation over the last month has been that it no longer tears the clothes from your body as it first did and instead undresses you with an exceeding amount of slow care, and yet …

Distracted by the buzzing memory, you don’t notice someone is reaching for your book until they’ve already plucked it right out of your lax fingers. You startle and snap your attention up at the thief, only to feel your stomach immediately plummet into the bowels of the earth. Yes, there would certainly be no forgetting your daytime burden either.

“Lieutenant Ajax.”

“Sister.” He shoots right back, grinning in his usual boyish way.

The glare of the afternoon sun makes his coppery brown hair look aflame as he moves to sit beside you on the iron wrought bench seat with an accompanying crunch of his boots in the snow. Drawing yourself up to full height, you pin the rascal with an unamused look of warning that would have sent lesser men running for safety but of course that doesn’t work on him. It never does, you’ve quickly come to find.

“Your manners are as lacking as ever, I see.” You snipe at him, your temper flaring while he settles in next to you. Perfectly sedate and casual about it, like he had all the time in the world to bother you. “I haven’t asked you to join me, if you’ll notice. It’s usually customary to wait for an invitation to be extended before you sit down.”

“Would you have if I’d asked?”

“No.” You hiss. “And for good reason. What do you think anyone who sees us will say about us sitting together like this? There are already more rumors than you can count floating around the church, and I don’t even want to think about what’s being said in town. And all because you don’t know how to quit. It’s shameful!”

Looking really quite amused, Ajax reclines back against the bench and slips into a comfortable slouch with your stolen book resting across his thigh. “Aw, let them talk. What does it truly matter, after all?”

“What does it matter?” You echo him, incredulous.

“Sure. My feelings for you are sincere enough and I’m confident that in due time you’ll even come to like me too, so what’s the problem? It’s not so unheard of for a sister of the faith to be courted by an overly ambitious man, is it? Besides … I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now if I was in the habit of quitting. It’s not really my style.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You cross your arms with a deeply bothered huff. Oh, how he grated on your very last nerve. Your initial impression of him had proven to be spot on, and in record time at that. He was trouble through and through. “Although it’s not unheard of, that doesn’t change the fact that these are unwanted advances, Lieutenant. I do not wish to be courted by the likes of you or anyone else for that matter. I’ve told you this before.”

“Perhaps,” He draws that single word out like an oath, putting far too much sly emphasis on it for your liking. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t change your mind. I’m not intimidated by a little challenge, you know. I can keep trying.”

Your numb cheeks start to warm, and the sensation is instantly mirrored low in your gut. This hot pulse within your womb whenever you find yourself standing in his presence has become a dreadfully common occurrence ever since that demon left its tattooed mark on you weeks ago. It feels like an eternity has gone by in that time, an entire lifespan gone over such a short interval, but you’ve found no answer for this either. You were trapped with nowhere to go, no one to turn to, and the undeniable fact that Ajax had no clue about any of it doesn’t do much to lessen the sting to your soul. Knowingly or unknowingly, he was still responsible for this torment in some way.

And you knew not how he could be so completely unaware of the evil lurking within him, but you’d tested it again and again to no avail. Not only did he not realize he was housing some one-eyed abomination on the spiritual level, he also didn’t even seem to believe that such things were real or that they posed any tangible threat to those in the physical realm.

That probably explained why he’d donned a soldier's accoutrement rather than a priest's robes, and that is ever more apparent when he lifts your book from his lap to look at the cover. Brow drawing inward, he gives it a perplexed grimace.

“Protection against demons and witches? What are you reading this for? Seems a little out there if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask.” You remind him, reaching over to primly pluck it from his hand but he’s quick to move it away. His arms are much longer than yours and, having no interest in wrestling it back from him, you give up and merely fold your hands in your lap with another sigh. “If it does not interest you then please be so kind as to give it back. Taking someone else’s belongings is a sin, Ajax.”

“Much like lust is, no?” He shoots you a cheeky grin, one that stops you in your tracks and drains the blood from your face. You take a moment to nervously turn your head this way and then that way to check if anyone was standing close enough to have overheard that pointed barb while he busies himself with impatiently flipping through the pages. “Lifting curses? Tests to find out if someone is a witch? Look, I know it’s not really my place to pry but what are you doing with something like this?”

“Keep your voice down! And if you must know, it’s because of you.”

His head comes up immediately at that. “Me? You must be joking. I am neither witch nor curse.”

Ajax’s boyish laughter only serves to further irritate you. Quickly deciding you don’t care what any potential onlookers might say about it, you climb to your feet before turning on him with an aggressive flutter of your skirts. “Perhaps not, Lieutenant, but you are most certainly a demon of the highest order. Ever since we met that fateful day you have been nothing but a thorn in my side. You haunt me at all hours like some kind of ghoulish wraith and I can’t seem to escape your presence no matter how often I remind you that I am not interested. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

Decisively snatching your book from him, you spin on your heel and make a purposeful beeline towards the nearest corridor entrance. That you hear his boots quickly trailing after you through the snow doesn’t come as a great surprise but it does make you gnash your teeth in annoyance.

“Come on. There’s no reason to be like that.”

“To be like what? Tired of your nonsense?” You breeze through the open doorway into the ground level of the monastery’s outbuilding with him hot on your heels, his long gangly limbs once again proving themselves a troublesome advantage he held over you. A few people glance up at your entrance but quickly turn away when they spot the scowl on your face. They would be of no help to you but they also wouldn’t dare to question you about it later when it was so plainly obvious that you weren’t happy with the attention you were receiving.

Clutching the book to your breast, you march past the workbenches and the raging hearth so you can slip down the long stone lined pathway that would take you to the bell tower if you managed to make it that far. With him doggedly nipping at your heels every step of the way, the odds weren’t exactly looking good.

“All I’m asking for is a chance. Surely that’s not so unreasonable?”

“It is when it’s coming from you. Forgive me for saying so, Lieutenant, but I don’t think you know what the meaning of the word ‘no’ is.” You call back over your shoulder, the smart click of your boots on carefully laid and polished stones echoing down the hall.

“Would that you’d actually said such to me, dear Sister, but I have yet to hear a proper rejection from you.”

Footsteps faltering in surprise, you fumble for a response to that very incorrect assertion. It felt like you’d done nothing but tell Ajax how uninterested you were in pursuing a relationship with him over the last few weeks and little else. “That is simply not true. You know I - -“

His gloved hand abruptly grabs onto your upper arm, pulling you to a complete halt so he can then spin you around to face him. Breath catching in your throat, you peer up at him with widened eyes. His expression reads of determination and grim intent as he steps into you, backing you up against the wall that looks out over the private cemetery reserved for congregants of the church. There’s an open window built into the slate gray facade right next to your head, letting in the warming rays of the sun as much as the icy breeze that never quite seemed to lessen in Snezhnaya. You knew if you turned your head and glanced through it, you’d see the unmistakable silhouettes of grave markers in the near distance watching you in their silent condemnation.

All at once you’re suddenly keenly aware of just how alone the two of you are in this largely isolated wing of the compound. There weren’t many who would have any need to visit the bell tower at midday, and although there were a handful of your fellow Sisters just down the hall back the way you came you hesitate to call out to them. This would look bad, wouldn’t it? They’d misunderstand the situation and assume you were toying with the young man’s heart on purpose, that you were some kind of cock tease. What if your vows were called into question because of this? You couldn’t bear the thought.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You finally dare to ask in a small, uncertain voice.

“I’m trying to talk to you. Don’t tell me you can’t stand my presence enough to even do that much.”

Working to reorient yourself, you pin Ajax with a sharp look of warning. “And what makes you think I owe you that when I - -“

“You accepted my flowers that day, didn’t you?”

That stops you in your tracks. “I … I did, yes, but - -“

“Why?” He presses you, the fathomless blue of his eyes searching your face for an answer. It’s like he just couldn’t conceive any reason why you wouldn’t find him charming and agreeable, or why none of his gentlemanly attempts to court you have worked. By all accounts they should have. You know that as well as he does.

Because Ajax was young and handsome in the way most men could only dream of being, and he was exceptionally talented too. He may have come from a base born family with only a small plot of land to their name and no real standing in the courts, but he was quickly making a reputation for himself in the military. Even you who usually ignored such gossip had caught the whisperings of people talking about the soldier with the burnished hair, both the good and the bad. He was known for being reckless but still getting things done as her Majesty decreed it and much to the chagrin of his senior officers. It wasn’t hard to imagine someone like that moving up in the ranks straight to the top. He might even one day be granted a title of nobility if he kept on the track he was currently on.

Frankly the young man standing before you in all the folly of his youth was by every account a prize to be won and a very promising prospect for marriage. Any girl would have been lucky to find themselves betrothed to him.

But you were not just any girl and you already knew the evil that lurks within him far too well to pretend otherwise. If he was similarly aware of the demon he never would have pushed you the way he does, nor would he look so much like a lost and confused pup that doesn’t understand why it was being denied the reciprocal affection it craved so much. It would have been a difficult thing to maintain your stance of disinterest had the situation been at all different, but the existence of that one-eyed monster ensured you would never be able to accept him as he was. Not now and, in all likelihood, not ever. No matter how much the mark tried to compel you otherwise there would be no reconciliation here.

At last breathing out a terse sigh through your nose, you brace for what you were about to say next. “Do you truly wish to know why I accepted your flowers, Ajax?”

“I do.” He insists. “Please tell me so that I can put whatever concerns you to rest. You don’t need to fear what I offer you. I swear it.”

Oh, if he only knew the half of it.

“Listen to me carefully. It’s not so much that I fear you, Lieutenant, but rather a part of you … I accepted your gift that day because I didn’t really have much choice, did I? When you make such a spectacle in front of the whole church, even the archbishop himself, what else was I to do? You forced my hand back then but I’ve told you many times since that I have no intention of lying with you. Flowers aren’t a marriage proposal, to be clear.”

Ajax scoffs a mirthless laugh at that, flipping his messy bangs with a nudge of his head. It was a habit you’d noticed he usually only did when he was feeling particularly antsy about something. That often meant he was itching for action, his seemingly endless surplus of energy having reached its maximum capacity and thus urging him to go expend some of it in the boxing ring against his fellow soldiers. You could understand his frustration with you, of course, but you sorely hoped he didn’t think you were going to exchange blows with him to let off some steam!

“And what’s with that reaction?” You demand, expectantly lifting your brows in clear challenge.

“I just think it’s funny, that’s all. You insist up and down that you’re a good, devoted, pious little nun but I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. Sure, you may not like it but that doesn’t change the fact that you find me attractive. Or at least some part of you does? Either way, it may not be love you feel for me right now but lust I’m just as happy to accept from you. We don’t have to keep pretending like we’re at odds with each other. Despite what your books tell you, wanting someone isn’t a sin.”

Embarrassed heat quickly marches across your face. So that’s what he’d meant with that earlier jab at you out in the courtyard. “You presume too much, Ajax.”

“And you’re not a very good liar.”

Your mouth flies open to spit venom at him, what little patience you had left for his antics thoroughly used up. But those slicing words catch in your throat when he reaches between you to place his gloved hand over your lower stomach. The gesture itself is possessive, demanding, and your knees instantly threaten to buckle right out from under you. Foul Legacy’s mark gives a warm pulse under Ajax’s palm to send simmering static electricity shooting through your extremities, lighting up every nerve along the way. It seems to pool deep inside your womb where it triggers some sort of primal reflex in your body that makes your cunt positively flood with slick.

Seething at the throb, you look up at him in question. His face registers surprise for all of a single heartbeat and then shifts towards smug victory, sharpening to something mean in just the time it takes you to blink.

“I knew it.” He whispers, squeezing your belly tighter. “You do want me. Want to feel me moving right here in your guts, don’t you?”

“N - no.” You wheeze even as myriad flashes of your nightly dreams that aren’t really dreams assault you in a dizzying rush. Foul Legacy had tasted you more times than you could count over the last handful of weeks, always taking that monstrous tongue to your cunt until you couldn’t conceivably take any more. Even when your menses came it hadn’t been enough to deter it from its goal of turning your body against you.

Worst of all, it was working. Even before Ajax had put his hands on you you’d felt the distant stirrings of hunger curling between your legs. That’s why you’d tried to flee from his presence, to seek refuge in the silent bell tower where the general public was prohibited from entry. It wouldn’t have stopped any of the other church staff but it should have stopped him.

He was apparently willing to follow you anywhere you might tread though, your constant shadow that took advantage of every chance he got to slip away from his duties in Her Majesty’s army just to track you down.

And now that he was touching you, his broad palm resting unknowingly over the demonic tattoo etched into the skin just below your navel, you were flooded with phantom sensations and remembered pleasure. The flick of a wet, drooling tongue lapping over the seam of your cunt, the slow stretch of it entering you one mind numbing inch at a time and the roiling friction that soon followed while it fucked you senseless with it. But most of all you recalled that blinding rush of release, the soaring buzz of dopamine that shook you straight down to the core with each and every shuddering orgasm it managed to pull from you. It was exquisite. You might have even called it heavenly, were you not so loath to associate Foul Legacy and what it did to you as anything even remotely positive or good.

Blessed Mother, your pussy suddenly felt so terribly empty.

Panting softly under your breath, you drop your book and carefully reach up to twist your fingers into the front of his stately jacket. He releases a slow, audibly tense exhale as he bows his head close, giving your veil a brief nudge with his nose before breathing in deep the scent of you. A low groan rattles out of him and the masculine sound of it nearly makes you go cross eyed from how violently your body seizes up in response. You were beyond mortified to realize that you actually did want him. What he could give you. How he could make you feel.

Knowing these thoughts are not your own but rather the suggestion of the demon mark isn’t enough to deter you, and you hesitantly turn your face into the bent line of his throat. “Please.” You whisper so quietly it barely registers in the chilly air. “Can you help me, Ajax? I - I don’t know what’s happening to me - -“

“Shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. I promise.” Nudging somehow even closer, pinning you fully against the wall now, he presses his lips to the crown of your head in an unexpectedly gentle and chaste kiss. At the same time his hand drags further down your belly to slip between your thighs, and you outright gasp when he cups you through the layers of your clothes.

Just that is enough to make your cunt pulse, trembling wildly when he grinds the heel of his palm into you. The intensity of it makes you sway unsteadily on your feet but he keeps you upright where he’s got you pinned, sinuously curling his larger frame around yours even as he works to nuzzle his mouth across your cheek one coaxing peck at a time.

You hesitate to do it but the compulsion is much too strong for you to fight it anymore, and you cautiously angle your face up to meet him. You’d been struggling against this tooth and nail for nearly a whole month now and the immediate burst of white hot static when he kisses you almost makes you regret your reticence. It was like the whole world had suddenly opened up to you in a rush of pure, unfiltered ecstasy, so sharp and overwhelmingly potent that you were feeling sensations you didn’t even know existed.

And the way he groans into your mouth, hot and indescribably heavy, would seem to suggest that he was experiencing a similar awakening of the carnal persuasion. What was initially a tentative, guarded exchange, a first kiss borne from less than ideal circumstances, instantly morphs into something wild and voracious.

Now Ajax kisses you like he’s trying to devour you whole, his breath coming out in quick, stuttering gasps while he fumbles to get your skirt hiked up. Your hands fly into his hair to tug and pull him in closer, and you go onto the tips of your toes to better accommodate the height difference. He doesn’t seem to particularly mind it either way though, and he just lets you eagerly writhe against him as he shoves your cloak out of the way. The hand not currently trying to worm its way into your bloomers gropes at your breast with a tight, pinching squeeze that makes you arch against him in mindless, hungry search for more.

You’d known it was a dangerous game to humor his advances in any way but the reality of it is much worse than you could have ever imagined it to be. Your body is so fine tuned to his very existence, the smell of him, his touch, that by the time he finally manages to get his hand in your stockings you’re already soaking wet. Drenched, by all accounts, and he gasps in almost perfect unison with you when his finger takes a first swipe through your pussy lips. The copious slick is obvious even through his glove and you shudder at the press of chilled leather against your throbbing clit. You felt like you were going to implode in the most literal sense.

“Nnghn, Ah - Ajax …!”

Coming up from your mouth where he’d been mindlessly kissing at the corner of your lips, he now looks into your face with no shortage of awe and reverence. “Oh, lovely girl. You really wanted this that badly? You should have said something sooner.”

You petulantly turn your head away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fluster that creeps across your expression. “I didn’t say you could call me that.”

“Must we really fight right now? Hm?” Letting out a slow breath, Ajax once again bends close to press another kiss to your temple. He stays like that, content to be still against you save his hand which starts to work careful circles into your slit. It instantly steals the oxygen from your lungs and you issue a faltering mewl into the otherwise silent corridor, rocking desperately against the wall.

How you wanted to curse him and the demon you knew he was harboring. Even if you’d had doubts prior to this, unsure if it was really him who was responsible for the nightmare you were being forced to live, this would have dispelled any such uncertainty. All he need but do was touch you and it instantly had you dissolving into sensitive shudders while your cunt continues to excessively drool all over his hand. It didn’t make sense otherwise. You were much too proud, far too sensible and level headed to give yourself over to someone like this just because. No one else made you feel this way, the mark didn’t respond to any other men you interacted with. It was only him. Him, him, him!

“Oh!” You toss your head back, hardly even registering the scrape of your skull against the cut stone behind you as starbursts erupt across your vision. The intense throb within your cunt mirrored that of your heartbeat, wild and erratic, and incomprehensibly thunderous. Blindly, you reach up to fist one of your hands in the shoulder of his military jacket, fitfully yanking on the material when the cresting waves of pleasure climb that little bit higher.

Your release was already fast approaching, an inevitability you wouldn’t have been able to stop even if you’d wanted to. But Ajax must on some level recognize the stricken look on your face, or the wheezing gasps that make your breasts heave under your frock, because he abruptly abandons your clit in favor of working his fingers further back. He follows the messy line of your cunt, slipping and sliding straight to your entrance where he unceremoniously dips two long digits up into your body, curling them inward as he goes.

The sudden stretch accompanied with the internal increase of pressure sends you careening right over the edge almost immediately. You manage to let out one single, half stifled squeal of pleasure seconds before his mouth descends upon yours again, swallowing the sound and muffling your wordless cries while you shake and judder through your orgasm. The weighty presence of his fingers inside you seems to milk your squeezing cunt for all its worth, dragging out the spasms far beyond what it should have, and you issue a plaintive, dire tinged whimper against his lips as your eyes roll up to stare unseeing at the ceiling. Distantly, you can even feel the numbed sensation of tears tracking hot streaks down your face. Oh, what a shameless mess you must look right now.

One piece at a time, you slowly start to come down from it some indeterminable amount of time later and he finally pulls away from your mouth when the shuddering waves gradually start to subside. Struggling to fill your lungs with enough oxygen, you weakly push at his arm. You’re quite relieved when he takes the hint and gently withdraws his fingers from your body before disengaging completely, slipping out of your bloomers and allowing your skirt to fall back into place. Bonelessly sagging there against the wall, you frantically try to make sense of what just happened.

How had you allowed yourself to fall so fully under the mark's compulsion that you’d let him do that to you right here, out in the open where anyone could have happened upon such an unseemly sight? It was inconceivable and absurd. It was —

You stare in fast mounting horror as Ajax lifts his hand and pops the gloved digits into his mouth, sucking the leather clean of sticky slick. A part of you almost doesn’t believe it, that he would be so crass and unapologetic about such a thing but it’s clear he has no propriety to speak of. More disconcerting, however, is the fact that it doesn’t repulse you half as much as you think it should. If anything watching him savor the taste of you actually has the opposite effect and your cunt gives a sharp, muted throb of interest.

It wasn’t enough. You still wanted more.

No, it’s not as simple as that. You needed it.

“Ajax …” You practically wheeze, mechanically reaching for him with both hands now. “Take off your pants.”

He goes stock still for a long moment, just standing there with his fingers half in his mouth. It makes him look even more boyish than usual, like a precocious child enjoying a treat of sweet batter he pilfered from his mothers mixing bowl when she wasn’t looking. But when he lowers his hand and peers into your face, it’s all man you see staring back at you. There’s a hunger, primal and timeless, reflected in the depthless blue of his eyes, and it just makes your pussy ache all the more for something of greater substance than a few fingers or a tongue stretching you open. You felt like you were going mad.

“Please.” Seething at the intense pulse inside your guts, you grab at the front of his uniform. Shove the long drape of the jacket out of the way and set your sights on his belt buckle. Your hands shake uncontrollably while you fumble with the suddenly complicated latch but he quickly brings his own down to help you with it.

“Are you sure? Right here?”

The note of uncertainty in his voice doesn’t seem to align with the eager way he gets his trousers unfastened, in too much of a hurry to do anything else except yank at the placket to get it open, so you don’t bother with a response. You were far too frenzied to think straight anymore, regardless. All you knew with any certainty was that you were close, so close to absolution you could practically taste it on the back of your tongue. If you didn’t fulfill your purpose and take him into your body as soon as possible you’d —

Voices at the end of the hall suddenly alert you and you yank yourself from him as though you’d been burnt. Someone was coming. That knowledge chills you down to the bone and sobriety crashes you into with all the destructive force of a battle ax, leaving you standing there breathlessly gaping up at him in disbelief. Surely you weren’t … you wouldn’t have actually gone through with it just now, would you?

“Sister?” He asks, worry flashing across his face.

Drawing a deep breath to ground your shaken nerves, you let it out on a faltering, deeply unnerved exhale. “Make yourself proper, Ajax. Quickly. Before someone sees you.”

Hesitating, he surreptitiously glances down the hall where the voices and the sound of shuffling footsteps was coming from but his attention immediately swivels back around to you. Brows knitting, he distractedly starts to get his pants fastened up again. “We can go somewhere else. I could take you into town and rent us a room at the inn. No one would disturb us there and - -“

“No.” You hold up a hand to stop him from going on even as you struggle against the insidious tug of the mark on your stomach. Your womb felt like it was on fire, pulsing so hotly inside your body you almost worried that something was wrong. But you knew better than that. It just wanted you to give in and accept his offer without a second thought. You couldn’t afford to do that though. Even if it killed you in the process, you had to fight it. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. Really, I am. I don’t know what came over me, just … please leave me at once. I can’t bear this another moment longer.”

“But - -“

“I said no!”

His mouth settling into a grumpy line, Ajax stands there and just stares at you another moment longer. You look away, refusing to meet his eyes now when you were overcome with some confusing amalgamation of guilt and shame, but that doesn’t seem to be enough to deter him either. He quickly finishes sorting out his clothes before stiffly bending to retrieve your fallen book from the floor which he holds out to you when he straightens up again.

“Here. Take it.”

Hesitating, you cautiously accept the offering and he breathes out a terse sigh when you still refuse to look up at him.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Sister. If you ever decide you want my help, you know how to find me.”

Clutching the cheap manual to your chest, you listen to him turn to greet whoever was approaching the two of you, pausing only long enough to give a respectful bow before taking his leave. The sound of his footsteps on the stone walkway seem to echo in the space between your ears as you glance up to find Sister Darya and one of the parish priests sending you quizzical, if not vaguely disapproving looks.

Oh, how could this day possibly get any worse than it already was?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The now familiar sense of dreamy weightlessness clues you in on what’s happening long before you actually open your eyes to peer around. And when you do you’re greeted by a world flipped topsy turvy, with the far distant floor in place of where the ceiling should have been high over your head, and when you glance just to your left …

A gasp rattles in your chest when you find yourself standing next to the giant brass bell in the tower. The mere sight of it standing straight up in the air in defiance of all logic and reason fills you with an immediate, sickening sense of vertigo inducing dread. Nervously, you turn your head in search of a way to get down — or up, as it were, but you don’t see anything at all that might be of help to you. Even knowing that this is beyond any shadow of doubt a dream doesn’t do much to dispel your fear of falling and you just stand there for a long time, too scared to move.

Thankfully you were alone for the moment while you tried to sort through your available options, limited though they were, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. It never did, unfortunately.

At first you’d tried to avoid sleeping at all in an attempt to escape the demonic presence that always seemed to lurk just at the edges of your consciousness, waiting patiently for you to drift off so it could make its move. It had worked for all of two days until you’d found yourself too tired to keep your eyes open any longer and you’d dozed off in the middle of morning service. That had earned you more than a few odd looks from the other nuns after they’d managed to rouse you again and, feeling deeply embarrassed at having been caught lacking in such a public way, you’d promptly given up on the idea altogether. At least like this you could meet Foul Legacy on your own terms, when you were good and ready to see its horrid face, and not a moment before. Or so you'd tried to tell yourself.

But sometimes it liked to play these kinds of games with you. Much like that first fateful dream encounter some weeks ago, it appeared to be partial to hide and seek. You were always ‘it’ though, and you never got the chance to hide from it when its presence was all around you and it seemed to implicitly know exactly where you were within the dreamscape of its creation. This was, presumably, no different, but there wasn’t any conceivable place here where it could have been lurking around. What should have been the ceiling was decidedly void of anything at all save the bell and you certainly weren’t going to stick your head in there to check for any signs of a demon.

Trying valiantly to calm your nerves, you suck in a deep breath and tilt your head back to peer up at the floor. There was a small hearth crackling in the corner, a steaming cup of tea set out on the low modest wood table as if the young bell ringer had only just stepped out for a moment. It was incredibly disconcerting to say the very least, the total lack of the foul entity further picking away at your already frayed nerves.

You decide to pray about it and bring your hands together in front of your chest. This never did you any good either but the repetitive mantra does wonders to ground you, steeling your resolve for the nightmare you were about to endure.

Just as you start in on the third reprisal, you hear it. A low chuckling laughter that sounds like it’s coming from all around you and nowhere at the same time. Your heartbeat picks up when it gradually rises in volume, like it was getting closer, before abruptly materializing into something tangible and real. Giving a small jolt of surprise, you bring your head up to look over at the bell.

Foul Legacy steps out from the other side of it at an unhurried gait, monstrous head tipped back with the laughter that shakes through its unnatural form in rolling waves. Coming to a stop, it slowly glances over at you when the peels start to die down, fixing that unblinking eye upon you. The predator once again face to face with its favorite prey.

“How quaint. I thought you would’ve given up on that by now.”

“I don’t give up so easily.” You snip back, lowering your folded hands to rest against your stomach. The brief nudge over the tattooed mark makes you twitch, reminded of your earlier impropriety with its host, and it offers up another low chuckle as if it were privy to your thoughts.

Pivoting on its heel, Foul Legacy starts to step around the bell to approach you. “Lovely girl, huh? I didn’t expect you to respond to such a cute nickname. My little bride-to-be is just full of surprises, isn’t she?”

“I didn’t respond to anything of the sort.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes at it dangerously.

Giving its head a brief shake, the demon comes to a stop in front of you where it bends at the waist to put its face right in yours. You hold its stare even when you internally quake at its close proximity, its hulking frame so much larger than yours even when it was folding itself in half to meet you on an even level.

“You’re welcome to keep trying if it pleases you, little nun, but you should realize by now that you can’t hide anything from me. You have my mark. I can feel all that you feel, and know all that you know. There isn’t anything you can keep from me.”

Its clawed hand comes up to sedately reach for you and, your uncertainty growing by the second, you slowly let your hands fall to your sides. With a truly surprising amount of gentleness, it presses one blocky knuckle into your lower belly where it nudges just so to make your breath hitch. A low simmering heat immediately starts up, making your loins curl tight in anticipation, and you shoot it a deeply frazzled look.

“You wanted that boy.” It goes on, the sinister rumble in its voice making goosebumps erupt all over your skin to accompany your spiking body temperature. “You wanted him a great deal, didn’t you? So why do you still deny yourself the pleasures of the flesh even now, after all that I’ve taught you about what it means to feel good? Don’t tell me you doubted his virility and prowess.”

Your face warms at its snickering laugh, and you proudly jut your chin up in defiance. “Mock me all you like, wretched beast. I won’t give you what you want.”

“Oh? And what is it you think I want from you, sweet girl?” Straightening up, it starts to pace a slow, predatory circle around you. “If it’s your body, I believe I already have that. You wear my mark and in three days time the ritual will be complete. We’ll get to spend an eternity together. Just you and I, and that boy you like so much.”

You draw a quick breath to insist that you don’t like him, an instinctive reflex when you were so unaccustomed to liking anyone at all, but the words catch in your throat. Was it saying that Ajax was actually included in this little love triangle and not a necessary interloper as you’d once assumed?

“Ah, did that pique your interest? You’re so easy to read, love, even if I didn’t have a front row seat to every thought that crosses your mind.”

Rounding your shoulders, you flick your gaze up to look at the horned fiend when it reappears on your opposite side. “You can read my thoughts?”

“In a sense. But it would probably be more accurate to say that your feelings are transmitted to me through our bond and I get to interpret them from there.” Pausing in front of you, it once again reaches out to nudge at the spot just under your navel with a massive hand. “It’s not hard to guess though. You’re surprisingly sincere for someone who tries so hard to protect their heart with barbed wire and fortified walls. Subterfuge is not one of your strong suits, I’m afraid.”

This time when it laughs at your expense you can’t quite stop the urge to lash out and smack its hand off of you, and you do so with an exceeding amount of satisfaction. Foul Legacy doesn’t seem at all bothered by it though, and merely lets its arm drop back to its side before resuming its earlier pacing.

“I don’t understand why you and Ajax both are so preoccupied with my stomach.” You hiss, turning your head to track its movement and watch it step behind you again.

“Oh, you’ll understand soon enough, my dear bride. You could have found out earlier today but you decided to deny the poor boy even when he was willing to do anything at all you asked of him. Not to worry though. I’ll personally show you just how much power you wield in that fragile little body of yours on the night of the new moon. Don’t forget. Time is ticking even now.”

Something suddenly clicks into place in your mind, a missing puzzle piece you hadn’t seen before but which you now had no choice but to acknowledge. Idly, your hand slips around to protectively curve over your belly. “The ritual you keep talking about … it has something to do with my womb, doesn’t it?”

Standing directly behind you now, Foul Legacy hunches close to practically fold itself over your much smaller frame and your eyes grow big at the abrupt nearness. You can feel the displacement in the air, the hot breath it sends racing down the side of your neck. It’s stiflingly warm, too. Unbelievably so for something that shouldn’t exist at all, a wraith without physical form. But where was that heat coming from if it had no flesh and blood body, no heartbeat in its broad barrel chest? Unless …

“Mmm, are you finally starting to realize? That bittersweet tinge of terror you just felt was delicious. Go on, girl. Say it.”

You swallow hard, practically choking on your frazzled nerves. “You … y - you share a bond with Ajax too. You’re sustaining yourself through his life force, not just using him as a vessel. Isn’t that right?”

Another low, gravelly chuckle escapes it, except this time it’s right up against the side of your face. The sound of it seems to vibrate through you on an endless, looping echo and you violently shudder when you feel its tongue slip out to curl over your shoulder. Snaking through the static charged air, it tauntingly comes up under your chin and flicks a wet stripe over your pulse to leave you bristling in disgust.

“Smart girl. I chose you to be my bride for a reason, you know. I was sure you’d start to piece everything together once you got over your initial … panic at the situation. Now I wonder what you’ll do about it?”

“What is there to do?” You ask, hands clenching into tight, helpless fists. “It sounds like the ritual is already a bygone conclusion and I’m sure it’s much too late for Ajax too. What would you have of me, o great demon lord?”

Humming a thoughtful, vibrating sound, Foul Legacy retracts its tongue and straightens up to its full towering height once again. Coming up alongside you, it rather ceremoniously holds out its open hand to you in offering. Like a stately gentleman extending invitation at a ball.

“Come. I wish to show you something.”

You hesitate, understandably wary of the monster and anything it said to you but there was no denying a certain curiosity pinging in the back of your mind. If you were truly already bound to it and had no way out then, you tried to reason, it probably wouldn’t hurt to at least have a better understanding of what was happening before the marriage rite commenced. Even putting that aside, it had never hurt you before. Not really, anyway. You’d feared for your life and your soul alike many times at the start of this ordeal, yes, but it never took those sharp talons to vulnerable flesh. Had never forced your body to accept anything beyond what it could comfortably accommodate. It wasn’t always easy but, if nothing else, you consistently came out on the other side in one piece, relatively speaking.

If this was a trap of some kind, you were at least certain that your folly wouldn’t see you dead for it.

So you reach out to slip your hand into its waiting palm, and its massive fingers slowly curl into place over yours. It’s almost comical, how greatly it dwarves you. But then the scenery around you starts to shift, blurring into an unrecognizable rush of movement that makes your stomach lurch up into your throat. You quickly squeeze your eyes shut to block it out, fighting down the bile that threatens to choke you up at the nauseating lurch.

It’s over in an instant though, and you cautiously crack your eyes back open to look around. You’re more than just a little surprised to find yourself standing on the raised dais in the chapel, everything so still and dark without any of the candelabra lit that for a prolonged moment you think the two of you are alone. As if in some endless, sprawling cave with the high vaulted ceiling overhead and the rows upon rows of polished wood pews stretching endlessly off into the dark void before you, it had never been quite so apparent how vastly empty this space actually was.

But then you hear a soft shuffle just behind you and you turn, half expecting to find a scrawny rat scuttling around in search of food or somewhere to burrow into for shelter. But what actually greets you is so alarming that it startles a surprised cry out of your mouth, and you quickly bring your free hand up to slap it over the lower half of your face to quiet the reaction even when you knew it was much too late for that. You were already as good as caught.

“Do not fret, Sister.” Foul Legacy coos another soft laugh, giving your trapped fingers a brief squeeze. “We are invisible to the human eye like this so we can freely spectate to our hearts content. They can’t hear us either. Go ahead and see for yourself.”

At its encouraging nudge, you cautiously step forward to get a better look at the sight playing out in front of you. It’s almost inconceivable and you have to struggle to wrap your head around what your eyes are telling you — but no matter how much you hesitate to believe it, the truth of the matter is staring you right in the face.

It’s Father Sluhovsky greeting a female parishioner with heated, impatient kisses and the kind of intimate petting that makes you flush red hot in secondhand shame. Even more alarming, the woman in question was young enough to be his daughter! Maybe even his granddaughter. Try as you might, you just couldn’t make any sense of what you were seeing and you immediately reel back from the pair in abject disgust.

“What in the world …”

The demon steps up beside you, not quite touching but still close enough that you can feel the heat coming off it again. “You’re surprised?”

“I’m shocked! This is … it’s reprehensible, isn’t it? Father Sluhovsky swore an oath, the same as any priest or nun. The same one I did! And that girl — I know her!” Feeling frantic and jittery, you spin around to look up at the monster looming over you. You couldn’t rationalize this, couldn’t conceive of any logical reason behind what you’ve been made to witness, and that leaves you with no choice but to look towards the bane of your very existence for answers. “Her name is Marnie. She’s around the same age as me. Why would she do something like this with the archbishop when he’s so … old?”

Foul Legacy cocks its head to one side as if in thought. “Hmm. I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that specific question, but I might be able to answer another one if you’d like to try again.”

Eyes narrowing, you shoot daggers at that horrible beast. “I have no interest in your games, fiend. Tell me what’s going on here! Now!”

“It’s obvious enough, isn’t it? These two seem to be in some sort of relationship by the looks of it. I can’t say I understand it any more than you do, but who am I to judge? After all, I’m just a fiend, isn’t that right?”

You sputter indignantly, floundering for the right words when you wanted to say so very much in that moment. Finally you settle on, “I don’t believe you. This is a trick, a - a hallucination of some kind. You’ve got me under your thrall and - -“

“Ah, ah. Don’t be so hasty to jump to conclusions. It’s not very becoming of such a righteous Sister, is it?” Foul Legacy purrs, meaningfully gesturing towards the pair with a nudge of its chin. “Tell me, what do you see when you look at them? Are you appalled because of the inherent imbalance of power between these two humans or … does it unsettle you so much because he presents himself as someone good and holy? Someone who should be above such base acts?”

Hesitating, you turn that over in your head with no shortage of skepticism. The two were part and parcel, weren’t they? One couldn’t exist without the other. The archbishop only wielded the kind of power he did in the community because he was a devout follower of the belief and had been deemed someone of authority on matters of morality. He wouldn’t be wearing his exalted robes right now if he wasn’t a good person … would he?

You can feel the blood draining from your face now as you turn to glance at the pair again. Father Sluhovsky had Marnie backed up and pinned against the side of the great, hulking frame of the organ that occupied the back of the dais in almost its full entirety. One hand was busy between her legs, reminiscent of the way Ajax had pleasured you earlier in the bell tower corridor, while the other eagerly toyed with an exposed breast that was spilling from her open blouse. It was a lurid scene, not to mention a highly inappropriate one for the chapel, and yet neither of them seemed to show any amount of disinclination towards their surroundings.

Almost as if they’d done this before, and it was not their first time rendezvousing in the church late at night when no one was likely to stumble upon them. They were comfortable, not only with each other but also their shared secret. The familiarity in their body language and the ardent way he kisses her chills you straight down to the bone.

“Why are you showing this to me?” You ask on a hushed whisper, so faint even your ears strain to hear it.

Foul Legacy doesn’t seem to have any problem hearing you though, and it sidles up right next to you with a nearly imperceptible brush of its heavy frame against yours. “I merely wish to highlight some things you seem to be unaware of, that’s all. Tell me, girl. Why do you think I wanted to show you what your beloved priest is up to when nobody is looking?”

You can’t speak it. The reality of it was too dark, too disappointing for you to utter it aloud. Doing so would only cement the horrible thoughts into existence and make them real whereas if you kept your silence they would forever remain intangible ‘what ifs’.

Seeing you start to chew on your inner cheek, the demon issues another low rumble as it holds out its hand again. “Then come. There’s still more to see that should help you make up your mind.”

Your head slowly lifts at that. You were relatively certain you didn’t want to see anything else if it was half as devastating as this but a certain curiosity in the back of your mind urges you on. Was there truly something more damning than seeing Father Sluhovsky so unapologetically shirking his vows in favor of indulging in the young flesh of one of his congregants? It seemed unlikely, inconceivable even, and yet the beast looked so sure of itself. In as much as its stoic, uncanny mask with its singular unblinking eye could look like anything.

Feeling numb, you carefully reach out to slip your hand into its waiting palm again. The scenery immediately starts to shift and rush past you in a blur as soon as it closes its fingers around yours, but you force yourself to keep your eyes open this time. If there was some sort of trick or illusion it was pulling over your sleeping consciousness you wanted to catch it in the act if you could.

All you earn for your efforts is a nauseating rush of motion sickness though, and you sway unsteadily on your feet when the world around you reforms itself into one of the many identical dorm rooms that occupy the monastery. It’s an almost perfect mirror to your own, you quickly realize, and you warily bring your attention up at the sound of a shuddering, feminine exhale.

The sight of Sister Darya spread out naked on the bed while one of your fellow Sisters kneels between her parted legs, mouthing at her cunt, startles you so much you feel suddenly faint. Perhaps you’d just been more apt to accept that Father Sluhovsky was not as he seemed because he was a man, and the easily swayed faculties of men were no mystery to even someone such as you, but for Sister Darya of all people to neglect her vows …

Reeling with disbelief, you stumble back a step and half collapse against Foul Legacy’s side for support. It was the only thing keeping you upright and off the floor when it felt like everything you believed in and thought you understood was crashing down around you in quick succession. You couldn’t believe it.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” You rattle, the horror in your voice almost palpable. “It is one thing for the archbishop to sneak around behind everyone’s back but - but Sister Darya is such a stickler for the rules. She enforces them more than anyone else here. Her vow of celibacy isn’t some kind of joke or unimportant matter that she would just shrug off like this … or so I thought.”

Sedately, Foul Legacy reaches up to nudge a thick finger under your trembling chin. So confused and upset by the things you’ve witnessed, you don’t even think to fight it when the monster tips your head back to make you look into its horrible face.

“Are you starting to see it now? Those vows you put so much stock and weight in are nothing but lip service. Oh, don’t look at me like that, little love. I’ll admit that there are a few adherents of the faith who believe in what they preach almost as wholeheartedly as you do, but you’re in the minority I’m afraid. Poor thing. What must it feel like to realize that everyone around you doesn’t keep the same adamant pledge that you do?”

It takes a great deal of effort on your part but you manage to stir from your shell shocked stupor enough to pin the demon with a heated glare. “Is that what this is about? You’re trying to convince me into giving myself over to you willingly just because everyone else is indulging in mortal pleasures?”

“Not quite that, but I suppose it’s not far from the truth either. Just look at your Sister. Look at her and tell me what’s going on here.”

You blanch at that, scrunching up your face. “I think I’ve already played the role of voyeur enough for one night, don’t you?”

With a gentle hum, Foul Legacy slips from you to step around the cramped room made all the more claustrophobic with so many people taking up space within its four walls, least of all the hulking ghoul who’s fiery burst of red hair brushes against the ceiling when it moves. You watch it walk over to stand at the foot of the occupied bed and, anxiously fisting your hands in the front of your dress, you slowly trail after it to join in its vigil.

Luckily you find that looking down at the scene from this angle prevents you from catching a glimpse of anything too embarrassing when the other Sister was positioned between her legs, and you’re exceedingly grateful for that. Your eyes do linger briefly on her bare breasts though, heavy with weight and with age, and starting to migrate towards the pits of her arms. But she looks all the more voluptuous for it, like some erotic rendition of a matronly saint come to life.

You’re distantly aware of a brief pang of self consciousness, wondering how your own body looked by comparison. If you still seemed immature and undeveloped in contrast to her motherly curves. But then you drag your attention up to her face.

So accustomed to Sister Darya scowling in varying degrees of disapproval whenever you chanced to look upon her, you’re more than a little surprised now to find her expression completely relaxed and at ease. Blissful, even. It’s as if in this one moment in time she’s allowed herself to simply exist and to feel that which she routinely denies herself in her day to day. Intimacy. Closeness with another. Was there perhaps even love between the two Sisters?

“That’s it.” Foul Legacy purrs, directly against the side of your face now. Startling with a jolt, you whip your head around to find it crouched down on your level again and staring right into your very soul from just a scant few inches away, misting hot breath across your face when it lets out a faintly shuddering exhale. “You recognize it for what it is don’t you? The human need for companionship. It’s an integral part of you even if you try to reject it at every turn. You’ve felt those pangs of longing too, haven’t you?”

“Not until you branded me with your mark, cursed beast.” You grumble back but it just snickers another soft, taunting laugh.

“You have no need for reticence with me. I did not implant those feelings in you, little nun. My presence can only amplify what is already there, not create something out of nothing.” Slowly, it reaches out for you and you think to pull away, to slap at its massive hand to dissuade it from touching you so casually. But you can’t quite find the wherewithal or energy to do so, simply sucking in a stifled breath when it palms over your stomach for the upteenth time with that same possessive gesture as before. “Sooner or later you wouldn’t have been able to fight it any longer and you would have sought out intimacy from somewhere. Your kind always does. No matter how pious or righteous, or pure of heart and mind you claim yourselves to be, there is no getting around these baser needs you harbor. I just sped up the process, that’s all.”

“But why?”

“Is it really some great mystery?” It asks, tilting its head to one side. The sound of cresting pleasure that promptly sounds from the bed only serves to further highlight the poignancy of the moment, what it’s saying to you and the way it looks at you.

“Tell me.” You whisper under the heaving sighs and groans of Sister Darya finding release on the other Sister’s mouth. “Tell me in your own words, demon.”

“I want you. Just as he wants you. And both of us shall have you, rest assured.”

Foul Legacy squeezes you then, not unlike the way Ajax has earlier that afternoon, except this time sharp talons dig into the vulnerable flesh of your belly through layers of clothes. You seethe between your teeth and tears spring up in your eyes as you jerk your hands down to grab at the foul thing and force it off you but it’s already too late. Whatever it had triggered was already in motion and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

All at once the world dissolves around you, fading into mere memory, and you’re suddenly falling through a pitch black eternity of nothingness. Everything is gone, even the demon. You try to scream but nothing comes out. It’s impossible to even draw breath here, like some kind of void completely bereft of oxygen. Your chest wrenches in panic and your heart slams wildly against the interior of your ribcage, but there’s nothing you can grab onto to stop your downward descent. You just keep falling, falling, falling —

Straight into your flesh and blood body.

Your lungs abruptly expand with the wild, frantic breath you suck in and you bolt upright in your bed so violently you almost lurch right over the edge of it. Wheezing uncontrollably and drenched in sweat, you force yourself to go still so you can try to take stock of your surroundings.

You were back in your dorm, you’re more than a bit relieved to find. Blissfully alone and, judging by the softening iridescence of the sky you can glimpse through your window, still a few hours from daybreak. But that didn’t make any sense though. Foul Legacy never let you return to the real world without first taking its monstrous tongue to you until you came shuddering and fitfully jerking in pleasure. Why would it send you back so suddenly? And with only three days left until the new moon you would have thought …

Feeling like you were going to be sick all over the rumpled sheets, you cautiously reach down to curl a protective hand over your lower stomach. The responding dull pulse of the mark makes you wince but nothing beyond that happens. You’re ashamed at the sense of disappointment that quickly rushes in to overshadow the mindless panic you’d felt when you first woke up, threatening to suffocate and choke you in its potency.

Surely you weren’t so weak, so irreparably addicted to the pleasure that monster gave you, that you could no longer return to your normal life without lamenting its absence, were you?

Oh, how far the righteous fall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next two nights pass by uneventful and the horned demon does not make another appearance in that time, leaving you to a fitful sleep free of its persistent harassment. You almost feel more tired for it, less rested than if it had taken you on another nocturnal goose chase through the dreamscape. Even so you knew you should have been glad for the reprieve. It’s what you’d been praying and hoping for throughout this entire ordeal, wasn’t it?

But somehow it feels like anything but a victory, especially when it just leaves you with your own thoughts for company and little else. You had a lot to think about, after all, and none of it was good.

And at last the final day arrives without ceremony or consequence, but you can’t quite decide if you should peacefully say your goodbyes to the world as you know it or if it was better to simply carry on as if nothing were out of the ordinary. It didn’t exactly feel any different from what you were accustomed to, save the vague sense of anxiety thrumming in the back of your mind like a livewire. There were no ominous thunderbolts flashing in the charcoal gray clouds overhead, no fire and brimstone raining down upon the earth. It wasn’t even snowing, the sky as clear as it ever seemed to get in Snezhnaya.

You’d think it rather anticlimactic had it not been for the resounding absence of the fiend’s host on top of everything else. Something about him disappearing filled you with unease and uncertainty for what the night held in store for you more than anything else did, and it didn’t exactly bode well.

But Ajax had not paid you a visit in over forty-eight hours now which was a new record for him and decidedly strange, so it was no wonder it would make you nervous. Since you’d first met some weeks ago, it felt like he popped in just to say hello at every opportunity he was afforded — either in the natural lulls of his daily workload or intentionally manufactured by his desire to see you — and his frequent daily appearances had become something of a routine at a certain point as a result. You’d thought you would have been glad to be rid of him too but in truth you feel anything but relief.

Instead a vague sense of guilt had slowly descended upon you, piling all the blame for his sudden disappearance on your actions when last you’d seen him, until you were left with no choice but to grudgingly admit to yourself that you missed the headstrong soldier on some level. Maybe you did like him. Maybe it was more than the mark compelling you so urgently closer to taking that final plunge with him. It was hard to say for sure when the situation was so messed up thanks to Foul Legacy and its schemes but it was starting to look like you’d soon find your answer one way or another. If the two of them really were as symbiotic as you’d started to suspect then the upcoming marriage rite would tie you to both, not just one of them.

And you really didn’t want to examine your thoughts on that any further than you absolutely needed to.

Eager for a distraction from what understandably seemed to be your impending doom, you bundle up in your heavy cloak and make the trip into town early in the afternoon. You alternatively considered running somewhere far away, and not for the first time, but quickly think better of it. Fleeing would clearly be an effort in futility given Foul Legacy’s unfettered access to your consciousness and you didn’t want to incur its wrath should you displease it by acting out.

So you try to keep yourself preoccupied with strolling down the cobbled streets and greeting the people who stop to talk to you, visiting the shops you usually neglected under the belief that they were material temptations that would only lead you astray and even an indulgent stop at the popular cafe in the village. It had been a very long time since you last treated yourself to coffee and pyshka, and you savor every minute of it, unsure if it would be the last chance you ever get.

Although Foul Legacy hadn’t said anything about the marriage rite ending with the loss of your life, a martyred sacrifice to its dark power, it also hadn’t explicitly said anything about what would happen afterward. You didn’t want to take any chances, just in case. Maybe you’d even pay a visit to your uncle's house and enjoy one last meal of home cooked bigos stew while you were at it. Surely his dutiful wife wouldn’t deny you this final request if you laid on the puppy eyed begging enough …

A handful of hours pass you by in this manner going from shop to shop until you’re eventually roused from your thoughts of stews and baked herring by an excited shout and a rush of movement just at your peripheral. No shortage of surprised confusion rushes over you when you glance down to find a child, a young boy, eagerly running up as if to greet you. The big, broad smile on his face gives you pause and you hesitate mid step, giving him ample opportunity to latch onto your fluttering skirts.

“Excuse me, excuse me!” He yelps, practically dancing on his toes in excitement. “Are you - you are, aren’t you? You're the Sister my big brother told me all about!”

It feels like someone has just ripped the rug right out from under you and your stomach plummets straight into the ground with immediate, inescapable understanding. If the striking blue of his eyes hadn’t given it away, the boy's burnished red-brown hair certainly would have. Ajax had told you extensively about his siblings but you hadn’t expected him to return the favor and tell them anything about you. It seemed a little naive of him, almost, when you’d made it so abundantly clear that you had no interest in being courted and had subsequently tried to reject him at every turn. Suddenly your guilt felt ten times more crushing than before.

“A - ah, yes. That’s me.” You school your features into a pleasant smile and bend at the waist to get closer to his level. “And let me guess. Such a handsome young man … you must be Tuecer then, if I had to guess?”

“Yep! Wow, my brother told you about me too?”

“He told me about all of his brothers and sisters, little Tuecer. He’s very proud of you, you know. In fact I think he takes more pride in calling you his family than in any achievements he’s earned in the military. You’re very lucky to have him as your older sibling.”

Looking incredibly happy to hear that, Tuecer rocks back on his heels to fidget. “Ajax said you were nice but you’re even kinder than I thought you’d be! And pretty too! Anton didn’t believe him but everything he told us was actually true!”

You hesitate to ask, but ultimately can’t stop yourself. “Did he really say all that about me?”

“Mhm!” Tuecer bobs his head in an enthusiastic nod, and you feel the knot in your stomach cinch that little bit tighter. Curse that scoundrel.

“I see. I’m flattered he thinks so highly of me. By the way, have you seen him recently?”

“Mmm, he just had dinner at home with us the night before last. Why? Are you looking for him, Sister?”

“I think I probably should be.” You murmur, earning a curious look from the boy. “Ah, it’s nothing to concern yourself with, Tuecer. I’m sure I’ll find him eventually. I could always check at the outpost, right? But before that, would you like to join me for a quick bite to eat?”

His eyes light up at the prospect, shimmering blue pools that are reminiscent of his brothers and yet simultaneously not. The color was the same but where Ajax’s were a depthless void that never seemed to reflect any light at all, Tuecer’s seemed to be lit from within. You wonder at that even as the two of you make your way down the street together towards the popular meat pie shop. Had their eyes matched at one time, as one would expect of siblings, and was it Foul Legacy who had caused the physical change in Ajax? You’d probably never know for certain, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were likely somehow intertwined.

More curious, however, is that Tuecer doesn’t seem to realize that anything is at all strange or out of the ordinary about his brother. The boy has nothing but praise and good things to say about Ajax while the two of you enjoy a late snack at the little restaurant, and he divulges a great many things about his sibling in exchange for the paszteciki. That hadn’t exactly been your intention in inviting him to lunch but you still find yourself hanging off his every word with a great deal of interest.

While some of it was clearly the exaggerated hero worship of a younger brother putting his elder on a pedestal and it quickly became apparent to you that Ajax could do no wrong in his eyes, you still learn much about him and the rest of his family. He especially adored Tonia, frequently gifting the little girl with nice dresses and shoes despite his soldiers salary, according to Tuecer. You almost resent how thoroughly that information manages to shift your opinion of the troublesome lout but there’s no denying the effect it has on you.

At one point you’d been half convinced that his apparent kindness was an act and he was not nearly as sympathetic as he often made himself out to be. This changed things though. To be so kind and thoughtful to the needs of a little sister when he had other brothers he could just as easily dote on instead … that said something about his character, didn’t it? And in retrospect, now that you were thinking about it, he’d only ever pushed you in the playful, mischievous way boys liked to do but had never turned mean or malicious no matter how many times you rejected his advances. In truth it was only Foul Legacy who’d completely ignored your wishes in all this. Ajax, to his credit, had been surprisingly chivalrous towards you this whole time.

How had you not seen that before now? Was it really possible that you’d unfairly conflated the two and let your experiences with the demon cloud your perception of the man? Had you ascribed Ajax with a selfish streak of entitlement that he quite simply did not have in all actuality? It was a conundrum, and a troubling one at that, but you were in no position to reconcile any of it at the current moment. Not without talking to him directly first.

So you decide to visit the soldiers outpost at the edge of town after you part ways with Tuecer, bidding him a fond farewell and a promise of another shared treat sometime in the near future. You don’t mention the fast approaching deadline on your soul's freedom, nor do you let your thoughts linger on it for very long. It was better to keep yourself preoccupied with other matters so the suffocating dread didn’t take hold of you and never let you go, and the matter of Ajax seemed sufficiently pressing.

But when you arrive at the cordoned off street and ask the stationed on duty guard about the singular object of your consternation, you’re promptly informed that civilians were not permitted beyond that point. And no, unfortunately, even church staff were not exempt from that rule.

“And what if someone were in need of our services, hm? What would you do then?” You ask archly of the bewildered guard who was likely unaccustomed to seeing a nun seeking entry into the outpost without first being requested to do so. Although it was a little odd, yes, you sorely wished you could tell him that there were far stranger things afoot that deserved his scrutiny.

“Erm, I am sorry, Sister …?”

You huff out your name, stamping down the urge to roll your eyes at the needless rigmarole.

“Yes, well. As much as it pains me to say it I’m afraid I just can’t let you past this point. There’s regulations to follow. You understand.”

“I do, of course. But can’t you at least send word to the person I want to speak to so that he might meet me here at the gate?”

“I’m afraid I can’t leave my post, Sister. It’s nothing personal, that much I can promise you, so please don’t take any offense. Even if I wanted to help you out, I’d have no way of getting a message to Lieutenant Ajax right now.”

Shoulders slumping in defeat, you nod your head once in solemn resignation. There was nothing for it then. And you certainly didn’t want to get the young man into any trouble. It was probably best to give up now and try again later — if ‘later’ even existed for you. “You have my thanks then, sir. I won’t take up anymore of your time in that case.”

“I appreciate your understanding, Sister. Thank you for your cooperation.”

You’re already halfway through the motion of turning away from him when a voice in the near distance abruptly squawks your name.

Startling, you glance back to find another young man poking his head out of a nearby building. A supplies shed, by the looks of it, and your suspicions are quickly confirmed when he steps out with an arm full of heavy woolen blankets clutched to his front.

Hurrying over to stand beside the first soldier, the newcomer gives you a quick but no less critical once over. “Yeah, you seem to fit the description alright. I think I’ve got something for you, Sister.”

“Me?” You lift your brows in surprise as you turn back around to face them head on. “I’m sorry, have we met somewhere before or …?”

“No, no. We haven’t met. If I’d known you were so lovely and fair, I never would have agreed to help the Lieutenant out so that I might try my luck instead.” The first soldier shoots the second a startled look in response, mirroring your own shock. But the newcomer just laughs it off as he shoves his armload into the other man’s chest so he can foist it off on him before digging into the deep pockets of his heavy coat. “Just a moment, I should have it on hand somewhere … ah, here we are. The Lieutenant said this was for you if you happened to stop by looking for him.”

Warily regarding the simple white envelope he holds out in offering, you hesitate to take it. You couldn’t be sure if you could trust it or not, either the contents of the letter or this unknown soldier’s sincerity, but considering that this looked to be your only lead on the scoundrels whereabouts …

“Thank you.” Taking the slightly wrinkled envelope from him, you flip it around to inspect the back but there was nothing written on it. Just a blot of dried creamy wax sealing it shut and nothing more.

So you quickly take your leave of the two, wishing them both a good day and thanking them for their hard work before ducking down the first street you come to. Pausing just inside the vacant lip of an alley, you carefully rip the seal open and take out the piece of parchment you find inside. Upon unfolding it, you’re greeted by a surprisingly legible masculine scrawl that is not nearly as messy as you would have expected from someone like him.

Brow furrowing, you settle in to read:

Should this letter somehow find its way to you then I can only assume you’ve decided to take me up on my offer to help. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me happy. My feelings for you are sincere. This I can swear to you.

Unfortunately I’ve just been informed that my presence is required out on patrol and I will be indisposed for the next two days at the time of writing this message. I hope it sees you well, and you’re not missing me too terribly. But I’ll be back soon so worry not. Let’s meet up under the new moon by the graveyard just outside the bell tower, where we were the last time. It's one of the few landmarks I recognize inside the church’s compound so it should be a good place to rendezvous. Even if I have to drag myself half dead through a raging blizzard to do it, I will be there waiting for you. I’ll wait an eternity if I have to.

Lieutenant Ajax, Eleventh Company

Reaching the bottom of the short missive, you slump back against the rough brick wall behind you and let out a heavy sigh of relief. He wasn’t purposely avoiding you then.

You aren’t sure why that should fill you with such a stark sense of comfort but it does and, perhaps more importantly, it manages to successfully assuage the overpowering guilt that had fallen over your head in his absence. It felt a little silly in hindsight but watching Tuecer’s eyes sparkle and dance while he regaled you with stories of his older brother had been akin to the final nail in the coffin. Ajax at least deserved a fair chance free of Foul Legacy’s influence, of this you were now certain. He was in all likelihood a victim just as much as you were and there was solidarity to be found in the mutual sharing of such an experience, wasn’t there?

But … rousing yourself, you peer down at the letter again. Rendezvousing under the new moon, what an implausible coincidence this was turning out to be. Was it truly happenstance, a mere stroke of serendipity, or had that demon somehow orchestrated this as well? Was it really powerful enough to influence the waking world as much as it does the sleeping?

There was only one way to find out for sure.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were not particularly well versed in the art of sneaking out of your dorm room in the middle of the night, unlike some others who shall go unnamed, and you’re understandably nervous about such a clandestine undertaking. Simply getting caught was a very real concern at the forefront of your mind but you also feared being barred from seeing Ajax should you be sent back and locked inside for the night. You’d heard that they implemented such measures on especially rebellious Sister’s who had been shipped off to the convent by families who no longer knew what to do with them.

But by some rare stroke of luck, you manage to pull it off without a hitch. Your presence out in the hall goes just as unnoticed as your boots creeping down the staircase, floor after floor until you at last reach ground level. The foyer is just as deserted and you’re able to freely slip out into the biting cold of night with nary so much as a questioning look thrown your way.

Standing on the front step, you take a moment to pull the hood of your cloak more securely around your head to protect you from the wind and snow flurries drifting through the air. Then you glance out over the still, quiet courtyard, taking note of the best route to slip through the largely open space undetected.

There wasn’t much light coming down from the moon in its waned state but the faint reflection off of the snowdrifts created just enough of a glow to illuminate the path directly in front of you. The rest was shrouded in a hazy veil of darkness that seemed all at once to hold nothing at all, just a limitless void staring back at you, and every possible demon and ghoul that might ever exist at the same time.

A frightened shudder works down your spine but you keep your chin held high as you step down to the pavers and begin to make your way across the frozen grass, taking care to avoid the brightest lit spots. You were determined to meet your fate with dignity and the sort of decorum expected of someone of the faith. Even knowing there were those living among you who did not adhere to the scriptures as strictly as you wasn't enough to completely break your resolve in their teachings. Whether it was your mortal death at the hands of clawed, monstrous intentions or the surrender of your cherished sanctity at the hands of a young soldier, you would face it unflinchingly.

Gratefully the trek across the compound is an uneventful one, save the impromptu flight of a great owl that swoops over your head on a near silent trajectory and sends your heart racing into overdrive. Its departing hoot urges you on, and you hurry the rest of the way to the outbuilding.

Following it around, you crunch through the snow and brittle ice until you at last come upon the small cemetery facing out over the sloping hillside, an endless stretch of pure white that disappears off into the distance. And immediately you catch the flicker of a lantern, a shift of the shadows to indicate that someone was moving about amongst the stout headstones and looming mausoleums. The realization that Ajax was really there waiting for you, just like he said he would be, makes your heartbeat quicken for an entirely different reason than the owl had.

You clutch your cloak tightly about you as you step closer, keeping your head low until you’re standing between the first rows of stone monuments where you finally call out, “Ajax? Are you here?”

The scoundrel appears immediately, popping out from behind a cracked granite sepulcher with a grin on his face. “Who else would be skulking about in a cemetery in the middle of the night? You weren’t expecting someone else were you, Sister?”

“Of course not. Don’t be a fool.” Huffing, you step closer to him and accept the hand he holds out to you in offering. That you don’t even seem to give it a second thought surprises both of you, as evidenced by the lift of his brows, but he has the sense not to question it as he leads you back behind the mausoleum where he’d been hiding.

His lantern sits atop a long frozen memorial bench, slowly melting the snow around it, and it gives a faint flicker as if in welcome when the two of you step fully into its protective circle. Your nerves almost get the better of you, standing there like that when the chance of being caught seemed so great, but you force your head up to look at him. There would be no backing out of this now.

“I’m glad you came.” He says at length, giving you an unexpectedly tender smile while he searches your face for … what, you do not know. You think he’s checking to make sure it’s really you and not some other, less scrupulous nun looking to have a bit of fun. The notion nearly makes you laugh.

“I must admit, I’m … I’m glad I came too. It was odd, not seeing you for so many days.”

His grin widens. “You missed me?”

“Only in as much as I was simply used to seeing you pop in unannounced like clockwork. You set an expectation, I’m afraid.”

Humming softly, Ajax takes a moment to simply look at you and you almost glance away from the burning spotlight of his pinpoint attention. But then he reaches up to carefully hook his thumbs under your hood, and you stare up at him in transfixed silence while he nudges it back to slip off your head.

The fogging condensation from your breath mixes with his when he bends close to just nuzzle the tip of his cold nose against yours as if in affectionate greeting. “Then get a good look, sweetheart. I’m right here in front of you. What would you have of me now?”

Your lungs slowly expand with the deep inhale you draw to steady yourself. You knew what you wanted from him, even if it only meant quickening your inevitable demise. Even if it meant condemning your soul to an eternity of punishment and retribution for the sins committed in this world. It was exactly as Foul Legacy claimed, exactly what it had shown you. There was a base part of the human psyche that craved intimacy no matter how much one tried to reject it and you were no better than all the rest. Just as weak and easily persuaded by the flesh as Father Sluhovsky and Sister Darya evidently were.

And if you were truly fated to know the demon as husband and wife know each other then you wanted to at least lie with a man once before it was too late. Before the only thing you were permitted to partake in was more monster than human. This just might be the last chance you’d ever have at something close to normal.

So you carefully tip your mouth up, rocking forward on the toes of your boots just enough to get the message across. Ajax doesn’t miss his cue, luckily, and he brings his hands up to delicately cradle your cheeks between the chilly palms of his gloves. Folding himself in half, he slots his lips into place over yours and he kisses you deeply, issuing a faint moan when that same static shock as the last time tears through both of you.

The sharp intensity of the mark throbbing to life almost makes you too weak in the knees to stand and it must be the same for Ajax because he sways with you there in the lamplight. Shuddering from top to bottom, you eagerly bring your hands up to twist your fingers into his thick jacket but he must mistake the involuntary gesture for something it’s not, because he pulls away to look at you with a searching glance.

“You’re cold.” He says so matter of factly it surprises a brief laugh out of you.

“Only a little, but it’s not anything I can’t - -“

Softly clucking his tongue, Ajax disengages from you completely so he can reach up and unwind the red scarf from around his own neck. Numb with surprise, you just stand there and watch as he transfers the knitted fabric over to your shoulders so he can wrap it into place over your throat. The immediate rush of his scent straight into your brain, so distinct and yet clean at the same time, almost makes you dizzier than the kiss had.

“There. That should help at least a bit.”

You aren’t entirely sure what to say so you settle on, “Thank you, Ajax. You’re very sweet … when you want to be.”

He snickers a quiet laugh. “Don’t tell me my charm has finally started to work.”

“It might have.”

“Good.” Looking really quite pleased to hear that, he slips his hands down to slide under your cloak and you startle at the cold brush of his gloves invading your warm cocoon. He doesn’t give you a chance to complain about it though, quickly finding your waist so he can back you up a step, and then another. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m just going to help you stay warm enough. Relax.”

That was easy for him to say but much more difficult for you, especially when your backside bumps into the flat, chilly surface of a headstone, dislodging a whimper from low in your throat. Blindly reaching behind you, you brace your hand on top of the stone monument and prepare to push away from it. You weren’t feeling particularly keen about disrespecting someone’s gravesite but you don’t quite get to follow through on it.

Without a word of warning or explanation Ajax abruptly drops to his knees in front of you, unconcerned about the snow that crunches under his weight and no doubt soaks up into his pants. Your breath catches, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. He doesn’t so much as hesitate to do it though, and he quickly dives under your skirts with an eager flick of the heavy material to make you outright choke on anything you might have liked to say to him. All the more so when you feel the first brush of his mouth against your stockinged leg.

White knuckled gripping the headstone with both hands now, you furtively jerk your attention around at the rest of the otherwise empty cemetery. “Have you lost your mind?” You hiss, struggling to keep your thighs closed when he leans up to try and nuzzle them apart. “This is — we’re in a graveyard, you sacreligious idiot! We can’t do this here …!”

“Why not?” His voice drifts up through the layers of your frock, muffled and fainter than before but still damnably clear with pointed intention. “No ones going to stop us, not even the Holy Mother herself. I told you I was going to help you stay warm, didn’t I?”

Rising up a little higher, he presses his face into the cradling cushion between your legs and breathes deep the smell of you through your bloomers. The sound of him releasing a savory exhale just a short moment later rushes straight to your cunt and makes you gasp at the intense surge of slicking heat that promptly follows. Your limbs suddenly feel like overcooked pasta as you sag there against the tombstone, struggling to keep your head on straight while Ajax slides his hands up over your stockings. Leather and nylon clash in a sensuous drag that makes your muscles twitch at the strange sensation, and it seems to rob you of all your strength to fight.

By the time he finally reaches the top of your bloomers it’s already much too late and you can hardly even think straight anymore, the demon mark insidiously pulsing in time with your heartbeat when he starts to tug them down. This was what you wanted, yes, and you try desperately to remind yourself of that, but it was impossible to rationalize doing it here rather than anywhere else in your foggy mind. Even sneaking into the church to do it in front of the silent statue of the merciful Holy Mother would have been less disrespectful than this.

There’s no stopping it though, and all you can do is seethe through your teeth when he manages to get your bloomers pulled off and discarded before going back for your stockings. His hands are tense with eager anticipation as he rolls them down over your hips, barely stopping long enough to get them pulled out of the way before shoving his mouth into your cunt.

You toss your head back at the sensation of warm lips on you rather than the snake-like, crafty tongue you’d become so accustomed to. But Ajax is just as messy with it as his counterpart is, you quickly come to find, and he hungrily kisses at you with wet, smacking pecks that make your toes curl in their boots.

Pursing your lips to stop the excited sounds that threaten to come tumbling out, you tuck your chin back down to look at him kneeling before you. It’s no use with him underneath your dress though, and all you can make out is the lumpy outline of his head and his broad shoulders, a bit of his long legs poking out from behind him. All you have to focus on is the feel him mouthing at you, taking sticky swipes at your slit to encourage the meaty folds to part for him. And they readily do, you’re almost ashamed to realize, your need so great after only just two days of neglect that your pussy quickly softens for him with the rush of blood in your veins.

And as your body starts to open up to him, his tongue dips further in on the next flicking swipe to just get his first real taste of you. Ajax groans, hot and primal into your cunt, while you violently shudder at the brief contact to your clit. You’re immediately struck by how different it feels compared to Foul Legacy’s, how much fleshier and softer it is. Your need for him immediately ratchets up another notch and you futilely try to spread your legs further apart in invitation, impropriety and sacrilege be damned.

But you’re stopped by the stockings still rolled down around your thighs, the stretchy nylon only allowing you so much range of motion before they begin to groan in protest.

“Ajax -!” You mewl, writhing impotently between him and the headstone. “I — I want your mouth …!”

A low, rumbling sound rises from underneath your skirts and he restlessly shifts in place, fumbling to get the material yanked further down. “You’ll have it, sweetheart. Anything you want, anything at all. I’m going to take off one of your boots, okay?” He pauses just long enough to deliver a heated kiss to the curve of your freshly exposed knee before returning to the task at hand. “Don’t worry though. I’m not going to let you stand here in the snow and get frostbite. Just trust me.”

Whining softly when the mark gives a demanding, attention grabbing throb, you lean further back into the grave marker to help support your weight as he works his way down to your shoes. Lifting one of your feet to cradle it in his lap, Ajax makes quick work of unlacing and tugging the boot off before letting it fall to the ground without another thought. That side of the stockings quickly follows, left to curl like a fallen drape across the snow packed earth. Then, much to your gasping surprise, he guides your leg higher still to hook it over his shoulder and lock you into place with your foot hiked up in the air.

You almost protest, almost reconsider the wisdom in giving in to these baser urges if it meant exposing yourself like a shameless harlot to the entire world, but then he leans back into the space between your thighs and it’s like you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. His mouth feels like heaven on your cunt when he presses himself flush to you and freely delves his tongue into the pudgy seam of your body. It's like he’s trying to figure out how best to devour you as he noisily sucks and licks at you from one angle and then another until he abruptly nudges into your clit with the full brunt of his tongue.

Yelping a haggard sound of alarm, you grip the polished stone behind you so hard it makes the joints hurt. But it was the only thing keeping you upright now when it felt like you’d been robbed of all ability to do anything except feel.

Mindlessly, you buck against his mouth and twitch through the sudden onslaught of pleasure that assaults you all at once when he zeroes in on the delicate pleasure button now that he’s found it again. He’s merciless in the way he flicks at it, incessantly nudging it back and forth even when you hiss in response. The sensation is sharp and overwhelming, and you think it’s too much for your punchdrunk senses to handle but your cunt just keeps eagerly slicking all over his face. Even when you feel close to fainting, your body can’t seem to get enough.

And Ajax sounds like he’s enjoying this almost as much as you are, heavily groaning into you between ministrations. Like he’s thought of this and little else in the past few weeks. It was absurd to think both the unwitting host and the demonic entity inhabiting him would be this obsessed with licking your pussy even to the extent that he’d do it here of all places …

That’s when it hits you. The sudden realization that the dreams were not only your dreams but Ajax’s too. He had been thinking about this the entire time because it was all Foul Legacy ever did to you when you were asleep. His subconscious was likely just as haunted by visions of you shamelessly spread out on your bed or helplessly held up in the air by huge, monstrous claws while it used its impossibly long tongue to fuck your cunt open as you were with thoughts of him.

Of them?

Were they closer to one and the same than you’d first thought?

The notion makes you wheeze, your chest feeling like it’s about to cave in under the pressure. It was too late though. You were already close, your orgasm bearing down on you with enough intensity to make your eyes cross as you shudder uncontrollably towards the finish line. It felt too good, the pleasure far too intense for you to stop it even if you’d wanted to. His soft human tongue, his lips, the heavy puffs of hot air he releases against your soaked cunt. Even the dull tickle of his messy hair brushing over your pelvis. It all came together and merged into one single, blinding sensation of unadulterated pleasure and you relish in it when you start to tip over.

All at once your pussy clamps down hard enough to bring tears to your eyes and you immediately devolve into a fit of spasms, rocking helplessly with the roiling tremors. You can hear yourself crying out for him, the sound of your own voice distant and muffled as if it was coming from the far end of some impossibly long tunnel, and just for a split second you see a starburst so bright it blinds you. You’d never cum this hard before, not even when Foul Legacy had tongue fucked you at such a sedate, leisurely pace it had seemed to last for a lifetime.

This was different. This was flesh and blood, and two human bodies feeding seamlessly off the arousal of the other. It wasn’t a dream nor was it a demon bringing you this pleasure, and you bask in the knowledge of Ajax’s mortality even as you slowly start to come down from the soaring high some moments later.

Still gasping for breath, you slowly manage to rouse yourself enough to stir against the headstone. “Ajax … please … take me somewhere with a bed … before it’s too late!” Time was ticking.

But he doesn’t immediately move to oblige or even acknowledge your request, and it takes a beat for you to realize that something was not quite right now.

Forcing your lungs to slow their rapid contractions, you carefully straighten up as much as you’re able to on one leg and reach down to tug your skirt out of the way. A startled gasp rattles through your chest when the thick fabric falls away to reveal his face slackened as if in some kind of trance. You’d been so lost in your own pleasure, so consumed by the all consuming fire burning within your loins, that you weren’t entirely sure when he’d gone so still. It frightens you though, far more than you’d ever likely admit, and you carefully try to disengage from him so you can retreat and possibly regroup.

But you only make it so far as sliding your leg down off his shoulder before he suddenly comes alive again, and you choke on your scream of terror when he surges up to his feet in a rush. It's clear that the Ajax you know is no longer present as he grabs you around the waist and hauls you against him before turning to carry you towards the mausoleum. You realize what’s happening, what he’s aiming for, and it takes everything you have not to shriek at the top of your lungs as you blindly yank on his jacket.

“Ajax, wait! What are you doing?”

He doesn’t respond, of course, and you valiantly twist in his arms but it’s no use. It’s not like you would have made it far anyway, even if you could escape his clutches, when you only had one boot on. The thought of him taking you inside that long sealed sepulcher amongst all the rotten and crawling things is enough to make you try though, and you do so with fast growing desperation.

It’s like he doesn’t even notice you struggling though, his strength so much greater than that of a normal man’s that you implicitly understand it’s Foul Legacy’s doing even as you shriek at him to stop. And at the last possible moment he does heed your frantic cries, silently angling away from the heavy stone doors to instead lay you down on top of the wide, decorative platform steps that lead up to the macabre monument.

You let him do it, too scared to fight when you couldn’t understand what was happening or why Ajax had suddenly slipped into a comatose state, and you hardly even notice the snow melting up into you from below as you warily watch him take half a step back. His hands come up to mechanically unfasten his coat and he shrugs out of it so he can then lay it out on the frozen top step just behind you. When he reaches for you again you try to scuttle away but he’s quick to grab hold, hefting you up to sit on his jacket. It might have been a charming gesture under better circumstances.

But the current situation is anything but that when he crawls up to hover over you, his eyes so completely void of any life in them that they almost resemble bottomless black pits. You’d thought they were uncanny and unnaturally dull before, and yet they now send terrified shudders racing up and down your spine.

Futilely, you make an attempt to edge away from him but he just follows you until he’s got you pinned against the sealed opening of the tomb. There he reaches out to relieve you of your second shoe, and then your stockings. He goes for the scarf and your cloak next, and you try to cling to it to no avail. You realize you’re crying when he starts in on your frock, insistently tugging to get it pulled up over your head but then a strange thought occurs to you, piercing through the fog.

You weren’t cold.

By all accounts you certainly should have been. Freezing, in fact. But even when he relieves you of your dress to leave you sitting there among the snow and the long frozen monuments in nothing but your brassiere and your veil, you don’t even tremble at the undeniable chill you know must exist.

Blinking through the tears now, you glance down at yourself to check if you were really naked or if you’d only imagine it but the glow of the purple mark on your stomach stops you short. You’d never seen it do that before. Like it was backlit with a fire raging so intensely, so brightly that it seemed to smolder before your very eyes. It almost makes you panic, almost makes you reach down to claw yourself open and pull out whatever was inside of you, but you suddenly find you don’t quite have the energy or the presence of mind to do any of that.

As if somebody had slipped you a powerful sedative when you weren’t looking, you find yourself actually relaxing into the cool brush of Ajax’s hands against your skin when he takes your last piece of clothing to leave sitting bare and vulnerable on that mausoleum step. You can feel your nipples puckering into tight, pointed peaks but you recognize it as in excitement rather than in response to the icy wind. It’s as if the cold doesn’t even exist for you anymore, and you cautiously bring your attention up to regard Ajax through the flickering glow of the lantern.

Only to jump in startelement when you find his face suddenly covered by a mask.

This one is not the same as Foul Legacy’s ghoulish facade in that it has no mouth or eye holes to speak of and you have to fight down a nauseous shudder when he starts to undress himself. You don’t know where it materialized from, what had conjured it up, but something about this mask is incredibly disconcerting to you. It almost made him seem more like a prop in this fiendish scene, a stage assistant rather than an active participant.

Swaying unsteadily, you try to force your mind back into the right headspace so that you might find some way out of this but it’s no use. You can scarcely lift your hand without focusing every ounce of willpower you still possess into such a simple action that should have been second nature to you. All you can do is sit there and watch as Ajax discards layer after layer, until he’s just as naked as you and his straining cock springs up into the space between you two.

Your eyes widen when you surreptitiously take it in, noting the length of it and the girth. He was big. Sizable enough to make you afraid of having it bullied into your body, but effectively paralyzed like this there’s nothing you can do to stop it when he moves to crawl over top of you again.

Numb with disbelief and thrumming anxiety, you passively let him guide you back to lay out on top of his jacket. Not that it really mattered when you couldn’t feel the biting cold or the melting ice anyway, but you supposed it was still a nice thought. You’re far more concerned about the cock bobbing between your legs when he hooks his hands into the bend of your knees and spreads them wide to bare your sticky cunt to him. You’d never been so acutely aware of your own nudity before; how your breasts come to lay atop your chest, the shape and size of your own nipples. The way your lower belly pudges just so when he folds your legs upward to pin them open and the meaty spread of your pussy lips that you can clearly see from this angle. It borders on obscene, debauched even, especially in comparison to Ajax’s body.

For he was all smooth, tight lines and flat planes stretched taut over hard musculature. His chest was only as defined as one would expect a young man in his prime to be and it was clear he hadn’t yet fully grown into his own muscle mass yet. The nipples dotting the skin were petite and pale pink, with only a few faint, wispy reddish hairs bracketing the areola. His stomach showed a slight outline along his abdominals which only becomes more pronounced when the tendons flex and shift as he moves into position, settling between your spread legs with an uncannily stiff motion.

In a distant, dreamy sort of way you realize he looked like the popular subject of the sort of paintings you’ve heard aristocrats sometimes commission from artisans to celebrate the beauty and power of the male figure. The kind that could hide their manhoods behind a tastefully placed tree leaf while the rest was all left on full display without any worry about obscenity accusations being lobbied against them.

The only part of him that was in any way outwardly lewd or licentious truly was his cock in all its stiff, rigid glory, and it was currently aimed straight at your cunt.

You snap out of it with a half stifled gasp, keeping your chin tucked down so you can watch Ajax nudge his narrow hips forward until you feel the brief prodding of his cockhead against your entrance. It was so hard and stiff that the foreskin had naturally drawn back enough to expose the dusty pink glans and the weeping slit in the center of it. You knew what this could mean for you, what the consequences might be, but you can’t even seem to find enough oxygen to remind him to be gentle, let alone to ask him to stop.

So you just watch, a mute spectator to your own downfall, while he pushes and the resulting fleshy slide of him through messy slick knocks a sensitive whimper loose from you. He quickly tries again, readjusting his angle, and this time when he leans his weight into you the head catches in your pussy. He starts to slowly sink inside, one excruciating millimeter at a time, and the immediate stretch you feel to the untested muscles has you frantically gasping for air. Even the copious arousal oozing out of you isn’t enough to completely lubricate the penetration when the girthy weight of his cock was so different from the slimy tongue you’d been violated with prior to this, and you quickly start to hyperventilate. You felt like you were suffocating, being crushed under his mass even for as slight as it was.

You couldn’t do this.

It was going to kill you.

“Relax, little nun. If you focus on your breathing it won’t seem so terrible.”

Jolting in shock, you disbelievingly tip your head back to look up at Ajax’s masked face. That hadn’t been his voice though. It lacked the boyish, playful notes you’d become so familiar with and instead had carried a low rumble, a rasp.

It was Foul Legacy speaking to you now through its host.

“Y - you — why are you doing this?” You manage to blubber with no shortage of effort, but the thing looming over you, penetrating you, just coos a sardonic, chuckling laugh.

“I already told you, didn’t I? You were chosen to be my bride. And now here we are. Just you, me, the human boy and …” Ajax’s cock sinks a bit deeper into you, forcing the passage to expand and accommodate his size, and you outright choke on the sharp pulse of discomfort that shoots through you. “The new moon watching on from high overhead. Do you know why the ritual could only be completed now, lovely girl? Care to take a guess?”

“N - no ….”

Inhaling a savory, shuddering breath, he — it leans further over you to get closer and put that horrid, featureless mask right in your face. Your chest hitches, frightened by the close proximity, but you’re helpless to do anything but stare up at it in your paralyzed state.

”Some call it the dream seed phase. It’s the perfect time to set new intentions, decide what manifest work you want to set in motion and to work with the shadows the dark moon brings with it. New beginnings, new seeds to plant.” Pausing, it tips its head to one side almost inquisitively. “Do you know what I’m about to do to you tonight? What seeds do you think I plan to sow here with you?”

Your stomach clenches in debilitating dread and fear, so potent you immediately start to feel sick. “No. You can’t!”

It cackles a sharp laugh, tossing its head back up at the sky. “I not only can and will, but look around you, little nun. I’m already doing it!”

It snaps its hips forward then, jabbing up into your guts with a quick thrust, and you gurgle on the pain that quickly follows. You felt like you were being torn apart from the inside out, grimacing when something warm and sticky runs down the seam of your body. It was no mystery what it was and you viciously seethe as you try to struggle against the invisible hands keeping you prone.

“You sick bastard … stop it! I don’t want your seed or anything else from you!”

“It’s too late, lovely girl. Just relax. I told you to focus on your breathing, didn’t I?”

Now that it's managed to break through the natural barrier of your body, the rest of its cock slides in with relative ease until you feel Ajax’s pelvis press flush against yours. It finally lets up its hold on your knees, keeping you pinned down with just the weight of its human host settling on top of you so it can lay out over your heaving frame instead. You try to fight it but your limbs still don’t want to cooperate even as it wraps those long, spindly arms around you and clutches you to its front. It presses that horrible mask into your neck then, murmuring a final tender word of advice to breathe through it.

And then it’s moving.

Gently at first, while your cunt adjusts to being stuffed full, it rocks into you at an almost leisurely pace that leaves you grimacing at the foreign sensation and the discomfort that comes with it. This was much different from Foul Legacy’s tongue which had almost moulded itself to the natural shape of you, fitting into a predefined slot without stretching it out into a completely new shape. The flesh and blood cock currently shoving deeper and deeper into you demanded space though, forcing your insides to make room for it and seemingly rearranged your guts in the process. There was pressure in places you didn’t even know existed, your lower extremity organs screaming out in distress while your thighs fiercely ache where they’re forced into a wide spread around Ajax’s flexing waist.

You think it excruciating and terrible, not at all what you’d expected from this ordeal, and you desperately pray for it to end.

But then, to your great surprise, something slowly starts to shift and the pain gradually fades before receding completely. Left in its wake is a dizzying rush of endorphins, pleasure fueled adrenaline so intoxicating you cling to it in your desperation for reprieve. And it doesn’t disappoint, you’re quite glad to find, for the more you give yourself over to that fleeting pinprick of distant euphoria the better it feels. Whether by virtue of the still pulsing mark on your belly or the simple, innate programming in your human brain, the once violent act of sex soon takes a turn for the better.

And Foul Legacy must feel the change in you on some level because it picks up its pace, thrusting in and out of you more vigorously now until the distinct plap plap plap plap of fleshy hips meeting your soft inner thighs rings out over the otherwise still and silent cemetery. It spears you on its cock, again and again, and again to carve out a space within you and claim you for itself. A low simmering heat quickly starts to build in your cunt, and it’s only further fueled by the bestial grunts and sighs it issues against your sweat dampened neck.

You were drowning in it, so many different sensations and sounds and smells assaulting you all at once that the only thing you can do is weakly cling to Ajax’s working sides for something to hold onto. He works tirelessly over you to keep his pace quick and snappy, while also maintaining the measured length of his strokes at the same time. It does wonders to feed into the flames licking just below the surface, making your cunt squeeze him and gush even more sticky slick despite your initial displeasure. You even start to think that maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

But then something happens — a flicker just at your peripheral, a waver in your swimming vision that briefly makes his burnished red-brown hair look wild and untamed. You have no idea what to make of it at first and then it happens again, this time turning his narrow frame big and bulky, the skin darker in color and much more thickened out with muscle mass.

You don’t even have the wherewithal to gasp, just staring in slack jawed disbelief as Ajax starts to slowly change right before your very eyes while he continues to pound you into the top step of the mausoleum. You can feel it too, you’re more than just a bit horrified to realize. The way his musculature seems to grow and reorient itself, bulging under your hands with an unnatural slithering.

The mask is the first thing that seems to fully cement itself into reality and you stare in horrified silence as that singular, unmoving eye forms out of nothing to blink open at you. The horns come next, sprouting up out of Ajax’s head at an alarming rate and the hair quickly follows suit. It’s like being pressed up against some unfathomable, writhing mass of serpents that coil and ball themselves together to form a new shape that is not nearly as alien to you as you’d like it to be.

You didn’t understand how it was possible but somehow, some way, Foul Legacy was forming itself into the real world using Ajax’s body as a conduit to do it.

And you … were you the energy supply it was using to fuel its transition with?

“Oooh,” It rumbles over top of you, shuddering like an intangible mirage while the rest of it takes shape in a roiling wave of skin and sinew. “That surge of fear you just felt … if you keep feeding me like this, I won’t be able to fuck you properly when we’re done. Surely you don’t want to go without, do you?”

“You … you’re consuming my fear? To give yourself power?”

“I can but I much prefer the taste of pleasure, don’t you?” Breathing out a terse, shaky exhale, it tips its monstrous head back to sigh up at the gloomy night sky. “Get ready, little love. Brace yourself. It’s coming.”

“Wha - -“

You cut off with a sharp, haggard gasp when you feel its hips start to widen and fill out against you. Whereas Ajax was lanky and narrow waisted, Foul Legacy was much more broad and thick, and the stark difference in their builds slowly starts to force your legs into an even wider spread until you cry out at the stretch. Jerking your attention down, you glance between your body and his to watch its stomach grow hard and chiseled, the center line of its massive, hulking frame leading straight to the spot where the two of you were connected.

And you can feel it as soon as its cock starts to grow inside you, almost immediately pushing your inner sleeve well past the point of human adaptability. You shriek and writhe, twisting in a blind attempt to escape the inevitable, but it’s got you so thoroughly impaled that there is no getting free. It just keeps swelling and swelling until you can feel the unnaturally large head pressing uncomfortably up into your cervix, and with it comes the distention of your stomach. It’s almost too terrible to watch but you can’t quite bring yourself to tear your eyes away when the distention forms just below the skin under your navel and presses up into an alarming bulge. The demon mark gets pushed up and out in the process, further highlighting the fact that it seemed to be glowing from within. You’d never seen anything like it in your life.

But somehow even more astounding is the fact that it doesn’t rip you clean in half. It doesn’t exactly feel good, being this stretched out on something so big, but you realize that you’re still in one piece. At least for the time being.

“Ooh, fuck.” Foul Legacy drops its head back down to seethe into the scant space separating you from its horrid face. You realize then, as you look up at it in shell shocked disbelief, that the transformation was complete. There was no sign at all of the young soldier now, just the one-eyed wraith looming over you in all its terrible glory. It was somehow even worse than your worst nightmare.

“Are you … are you satisfied now?” You rattle out, shuddering from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes.

Giving its head a vicious shake as if to clear its mind of some lingering fog, Foul Legacy peers into your face, your very soul, with its singular red eye. “Impatient for that proper fucking I promised you? I always knew you had it in you, little nun. Don’t worry though. I won’t disappoint.”

A fresh tendril of horror curls through you when it straightens up to kneel on the step of the mausoleum, taking your hips in between its massive hands to hold you in place. Bile rises in your throat and threatens to suffocate you as you snap your attention back down to watch it slowly ease its huge cock out only enough to make the bulge in your stomach recede. Then it pushes in again and you openly gape at the way it forces your stomach out to make enough room for it to fit. And that was to say nothing of the intense drag against your guts, the way your gummy inner sleeve weakly tries to cling to its shaft on the way out only to then yield under the intense pressure of the next upward plunge.

Foul Legacy still deigns to show you some kindness though, and it fucks you at a slow, even tempoed rhythm even while you mindlessly writhe and jerk on its huge cock. But you had nowhere to go, no options except to take it, and you do so with numb tears tracking down your face. Even if this didn’t kill you, even if you didn’t break, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you would be forever ruined after this. The demon had taken everything from you. Your freedom, the sanctity of your virginity, even your one and only consolation prize in all this mess when it used Ajax’s body to transition to reality. Would you ever see him again, whole and the same as he was before? You weren’t so sure about that and you didn’t want to think about it too hard just yet.

“You look so good like this … submitting to my cock like a good girl, taking it like a champ. I told you I chose you for a reason, didn’t I?”

Stirring out of your stupor enough to glare up at the foul beast, you give it a weak look of warning. “Do not … agghhn! Do not speak to me ever again you — you wretched fiend. I’ve had … my fill of you.”

“Ooh, don’t say that. We’re going to be together for a very long time to come. You’ll need to find some way to tolerate me for at least a little while.” Chuckling faintly, it starts to pick up the speed only enough to make your tits shift each time it thrusts into you and the soft sound of skin smacking against skin rises in the air again. “The marriage rite is almost complete. I’ve already spilled your virgin‘s blood and now all that’s left is to fill you with my seed. Once that’s done, you’ll be bound to me for an eternity, soul, body and mind. So tell me, my sweet bride. What weighs on your mind? Quickly, before it’s too late.”

You try to speak but nothing comes out except a series of wounded little animal noises that it punches out of you with its cock. It didn’t feel good, it didn’t but … the pressure pushing in on your guts was too much, and the increased pace wasn’t helping. You could feel your eyes starting to roll back and you desperately clench your teeth in a blithe attempt to hold back the wailing shrieks trying to claw up your throat. Your stomach felt like it was being shoved up into your chest cavity!

“Nnnngghhnnn ... Ahh, aaghhnn, A - Ajax …!”

“Oh? You’re worried about him? Hah. I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew you liked that boy far more than you were willing to admit, even to yourself. But worry not, little love. He’s just fine. I’ll give him his body back once I’m done with it.”

Head bonelessly lolling against the step, you dazedly blink up at the sky and slur out a nearly unintelligible,“R - really?”

“Yes. Now get ready. I’m close … gonna’ fill you up until it’s leaking out of you for days to come. Ahhh … I’ve been waiting this whole time, you know. There’s plenty stored up just for you.”

You grimace at the thought and try desperately to rouse yourself for one last attempt to wriggle free but it’s already too late. Foul Legacy starts to huff and grunt in earnest, it's hips driving into you a little bit quicker. A little harder. Your tits bounce vigorously with each thrust now and you whimper at how every inch of your body seems to ache in protest, especially your poor stomach.

But it quickly becomes apparent that its ordeal hasn’t quite reached its end yet when the demon finally judders with a low, seething hiss as it buries its cock as far into you as it will go. The sharp pressure right on your cervix makes your legs spasm and you cry out, struggling to breathe through it. The first searing hot pulse of thick, creamy semen shooting off right against the opening of your womb immediately robs you of all your oxygen though and you gasp like you’re drowning. The sound lodges in your throat, making you gurgle, and then the next spurt from its pumping cock floods the first. With nowhere else to go, you feel some of it seep deep into your loins, far beyond what a normal cock should reach, while the rest of it oozes out to bubble down your stretched open cunt.

And it just keeps coming, one unbearably warm spurt after another until enough of it has forced its way into your womb that you can feel your belly bloating up under the pressure. Mewling in wordless distress, you shakily lift your head to glance down at yourself and you immediately don’t like what you see. Your stomach round and heavy, and this time it stays that way even when the demon issues a deeply satisfied breath before slowly pulling out. The bulge remains, and you feel a tiny little part of your ego die and chip away with it.

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be.

“Don’t mourn, my lovely bride. There is a chance my seed won’t take root right away, you know.”

Its massive cock finally slips free with an accompanying wet slurp and a fresh flood of unstoppered semen rushes out of you, thoroughly coating you in the mess. Warbling a horrified little sound, you try to push yourself up to sit but you’re so unaccustomed to your stomach being this round that you end up right back where you’d started, wetly gasping on the step of the sepulcher.

Watching you closely, Foul Legacy gives a thoughtful tip of its head. “That seems a bit unlikely though, doesn’t it? With so much of it in your womb, surely at least one will find its mark.”

“You … I hate you! I really do!”

“Oh, now don’t say that. There’s still plenty of time for that further down the road, isn’t there? By the way, don’t think I’ve forgotten our little deal.”

Sniffling sadly, you look up at it with as much vitriol as you can muster. “What deal? I never agreed to anything with you!”

“Lying is such an unbecoming habit, sweetheart. Even if it is only by omission.”

Hunching over you like it were some hideous gargoyle poised to take off into the night, Foul Legacy reaches out for your face with its clawed hand and you quickly screw your eyes shut so you don’t have to see what it does to you next. To your reeling surprise, however, all it does is slip one long finger under your veil, peeling it back and away.

Your eyes instantly pop back open in mute horror as your hair spills out over your shoulders. A million thoughts run through your mind at all at once, a million protests to dissuade it from looking. You couldn’t even recall the last time you’d had your hair uncovered in front of a man and it leaves you feeling strangely more naked and exposed than your actual nudity does.

But you don’t get the chance to give voice to any of it before Foul Legacy delves its hand into your hair, taking a big tight fistful of it so it can yank your head back. Hissing like an incensed cat, you shoot daggers at the foul beast as you're made to look up at it but it just passively stares at you with that unblinking, horrible eye. You felt like you were going to be sick all over.

“I look forward to enjoying the rest of our lives together.” It all but purrs at you, jaw hinging open to let its long, serpent-like tongue slip out to flick tauntingly at the corner of your mouth. “Together, forever. In holy, sacred matrimony … isn’t that right?”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #childe x reader #foul legacy x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #self insert bullshit

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jbaileyfansite · 9 months

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The finale of Fellow Travelersis now streaming, ahead of its Sunday night airing on Showtime—a conclusion to one of the year’s best series that is gorgeous, devastating, and cathartic in equal measure.

The story of a tortured-yet-beautiful romance between two men over decades, the show waltzed through those emotions throughout the entire season, as Matt Bomer’s Hawk and Jonathan Bailey’s Tim weather the historical circumstances that prevented their deserved happily ever after. Bomer’s nuanced performance as an infatuated, conflicted man is the best work of his career, and, in the emotion-packed finale, Bailey is a revelation. Across multiple timelines, he showcases how intertwined grit, defiance, and joy in spite of darkness are for gay men determined to make their lives mean something in a world that actively works to strip them of dignity.

The series spans Hawk and Tim’s meet-cute during the Lavender Scare and McCarthyism-led panic of the 1950s through the AIDS crisis of the 1980s. The final scene, set at the unveiling of the AIDS Memorial Quilt at the National Mall in D.C. that might as well have been an anvil plummeting straight onto my heart, it shattered me so much.

There are two images in the final episode that have seared into my brain since I first watched, tableaus charting the arc of a doomed, yet life-changing relationship. First is Hawk and Tim slow dancing naked in the privacy of a secret apartment and, later, Tim’s head nestled on Hawk’s chest as they take a post-coital nap—moments of bliss stolen in a society that won’t allow them that pleasure. Then there’s a mirror of that position decades later, when Hawk climbs into Tim’s hospital bed to cradle him, as Tim struggles through a rough night during his last days battling AIDS.

The power of those moments is amplified by Bailey’s performance. In the earlier timeline, his wide, giddy eyes betray a man fully aware of his good fortune to be so madly in love, cognizant of how precarious and fleeting the feeling could be and determined to live in the splendor of it. Later, as he faces death, his resignation to fate is not one of defeat, but a catalyst for clarity.

So much of his life was impacted—some might say ruined—by his inability to move on from his connection to Hawk. But in a sensational monologue delivered after Hawk questions how much pain he’s caused Tim, Tim corrects the narrative: “I spent most of my life waiting for God to love me. And then I realized the only thing that matters is that I loved God. It’s the same with you. I’ve never loved anyone but you. You were my great, consuming love. Most people don’t get one of those. I do. I have no regrets.”

Bailey’s performance of this monologue stunned me. It is spoken with such certainty, an outpouring of a lifetime of emotion funneled into a searing, pointed declaration. He’s speaking to not only a complicated romance with his lover, but also on behalf of generations of gay men whose great loves were colored and, it often seemed, marred by the misfortune of the times in which they were kindled. That’s the revelation that Tim, through Bailey’s delivery, speaks to: There’s no misfortune when it comes to love; we may now be aware of the hideousness with which society treated (and still treats) the gay community, but how dare we assume that the love found was any kind of misfortune.

I’ll be thinking about this episode, that monologue, and Bailey’s performance for a long time. Do yourself a favor and watch it.

Source

#fellow travelers #ft spoilers #jonathan bailey #jonny bailey #tim laughlin #dailybeast #NEW!

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k-s-morgan · 8 months

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And the Living Will Envy the Dead: Snippet

This is a snippet from another scene taking place in the distant future from Tom's POV. And it's surprisingly fluffy))

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Impatience wrapped around his throat like an unyielding noose. At first, Tom kept adjusting his collar, wondering if Rosalia misstepped this time and selected something of the wrong size. As far as the design, the colours, and the material were concerned, however, this outfit was a favourite, and wearing anything else was out of question when Harry was supposed to return at last.

Three months, and not even in Britain — in Germany. Unacceptably, intolerably far.

If it wasn’t for Harry’s ridiculous rule of no contact during recruitment, their separation wouldn’t have to be this lengthy. Tom had agreed to it as a display of courtesy, but after the endless bleakness of the last twelve weeks, things would have to change. Principles meant nothing when they caused more inconveniences than they brought benefits.

The loosening of the collar did not bring the anticipated relief, so eventually, Tom was forced to concur that the problem had taken root in his head. And the name of this problem had five misleadingly insignificant letters in it.

Irritation began to sizzle, making it impossible for him to keep sitting. Tom stood up and checked the clock; then he conjured the time by himself, harbouring the irrational hope that his clock was broken. The smoky numbers remained unchanged, and he waved them away, his jaw tightening with annoyance.

Harry was supposed to be here ninety-three minutes ago. How long could it take someone to Apparate, even if they were abysmal at it?

Waiting was all he could do. His mind understood it, and just as equally, it rejected it. Measuring his reflection with one final look, Tom left the room and walked downstairs, to the headquarters. Rosalia, Cadmus, and Augustus were inside, locked into a conversation he had no interest in, at least not at the moment.

“Is he back yet?” Tom asked, ignoring the way the three of them instantly stood up. It was an entirely redundant question — if Harry returned, he would have never set foot inside Tom’s headquarters. Another rule that made no sense, but then Harry frequently didn’t. Still, he had to ask. To indulge the restless part of him that was willing to shred his skin and escape it to seek Harry out on its own.

A layered silence answered his inquiry. Tom’s eyes narrowed, and Cadmus hastened to clear his throat.

“He isn’t, my lord,” he uttered. “Not that we know of.”

“Inform me if you see him.”

He turned to leave, but in that very moment, Rosalia’s magic made a desperate lunge for him. It was harmless, just a greedy uncontrolled attempt to hold onto him, but Tom’s already dark mood plummeted further down. Disgust buzzed under his skin, and his magic rose up in one crushing wave, disintegrating Rosalia’s energy into the tiniest particles, rendering them even more useless.

A pained gasp broke the silence. Everyone else froze. Slowly, Tom turned to face them again, his stare stopping at Rosalia.

“And what was that supposed to be?” he asked. “Are you a dog in heat? Has the word ‘self-control’ escaped your dictionary entirely this time?”

Rosalia flushed. With her red face and blond curls, she reminded Tom of Harry’s revolting cousin, and his fingers itched with the need to invoke some graver magic.

“I— apologise,” she stammered. Her wavering voice made her sound like an even more pitiful version of herself, and Tom inhaled slowly, willing himself to be patient. Alienating Harry after their separation was not a good idea — although this was Rosalia, so perhaps Harry wouldn’t mind. “I just wanted to urge you to consider changing the entrance wards. It’s not right that he can walk inside whenever he feels like it. I know about your… arrangement… but there is no need to grant him free access. He could ask for permission when he wants to visit and we would—”

“He has my permission,” Tom interrupted her. The darkness of his voice instantly shut her up. “For today. For the next week. For a decade from now. He will never have to ask for it because he has it indefinitely. Is that clear enough to you?”

Rosalia nodded, dropping her head — alas, too late. Frustration that had been gnawing on Tom was beginning to zero in on her, blinding him to anything but the sudden craving for her screams. The cloud of violence descended, and this time, he didn’t want to fight it.

He needed a distraction. This one was as good as any.

The first vibrations of magic trembled through his body, filling his blood with power, power, more power — the power that would need an outlet. That would remind Rosalia of where her place was and what matters she was allowed to discuss — and which ones she should never open her mouth to comment on.

His wand slipped into his hand, the power purring at the sight of horror that twisted Rosalia’s and Cadmus’ faces. Only Augustus remained impassive, although he lowered his eyes as well, his shoulders drooping submissively.

A hundred different words danced on the tip of his tongue. The energy poured into every cell of his, bursting with the need to be directed, and Tom was about to oblige when a subtle breeze shot through the wards.

It could be nothing. It could be an actual breeze slipping through one of the open windows, but he knew, he knew there was more to it.

Harry was back.

A shudder of want thundered through him. Excitement and anticipation pushed out every previous emotion from his mind, and it took an impossible effort to keep himself still instead of Apparating in the direction from which he sensed Harry’s presence.

“Augustus,” he barked, “remind Rosalia of the scope of her responsibilities. After your lesson, I expect that she will keep her mouth shut on the matters that don’t concern her.”

From the corner of his eye, he noticed reluctance sliding over Augustus’ face. This was surprising — Augustus had always been the most eager to punish the other followers, but right now, Tom didn’t have time to ponder on it. Without saying another word, he Apparated into his office, and his heart did its usual little stumbling when his eyes stopped at Harry.

Tom’s sudden appearance must have startled him because Harry jumped, dropping the metal statue of the snake he was holding. It landed on his foot, and he jumped again, this time looking even more alarmed.

How such a stunning duellist and a brilliant Quidditch player could be so clumsy was a mystery Tom hadn’t solved yet. Affection bloomed in his chest, a seed that instantly bore its fruits — a split of a second, and the fire of it consumed him entirely.

“Hey,” Harry said, an awkward smile lighting up his face. “That’s one ugly snake. Where did you—”

Tom didn’t let him finish. He eliminated the grating distance between them in two large steps, grabbed Harry by his waist, and kissed him, swallowing the words that were about to be said, not allowing him a moment to draw in another breath. He kissed him, and his world exploded with the half-forgotten brightness again.

#my fics #tomarry #harry potter #tom riddle #atlwetd #snippet

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steveshairychest · 1 year

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Steve believes it's over; he believes they've won.

Sure, the town is divided by giant cavernous cracks, but that's not something he can fix with a nail bat. Steve's job is done. There'll be no more jumping through gates and fighting off monsters, no more injuries, and no more deaths.

Because they beat the bad guy.

Steve had watched him burn with his own eyes. He'd watched Nancy fire the shotgun right at Vecna's chest and taken pleasure in his screams as Vecna plummeted to his death. It came with a cost, but they won.

Things were just starting to fall back into place when he realised he was wrong. It starts as a faint sound, almost too quiet to hear over the chatter in his car, but it causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand and his hands to grip the wheel in fear. A quick glance in the rear vision mirror tells him no one else heard it. Mike makes a face at him when he meets Steve's eyes in the mirror and points at the road. "You don't have to keep checking. I swear I'm wearing my seatbelt."

No one notices the slight shake in his voice when he tells them to be quiet. No one notices his panic.

He hears it again when the kids pile out of the car. It's louder this time, almost deafening.

It's the sound of a clock, a grandfather clock.

Max had told him what it sounded like, she'd stared off into the distance and told him it made her heart race, made her so scared she felt sick. She said it sounded drawn out and wrong, like the clock was broken.

Steve hears that exact sound for days. It rings in his ears while he volunteers at the shelter, it deafens him in the middle of a conversation with Robin, it jolts him awake at night and leaves him reaching for the bat beside his bed.

But he doesn't tell anyone.

He doesn't tell anyone when his usual headaches get worse. He doesn't mention the hallucination of Barb he sees in his swimming pool when the kids come over to swim. He doesn't want to worry anyone, not when everything feels so normal, so peaceful.

But he's never been good at hiding secrets.

Especially not from Robin, who clocks him the minute he starts asking if she knows his favourite song and if she has a portable walkman. "But we won. We killed him." She chokes on her own words and they both slowly sink to the ground in a hug that nearly crushes them both. "You can't leave me, Steve. You can't. You can't. It's not fair. We won."

Steve holds her. He holds her so close to his chest and tries not to think about the reality that this might be their last hug. He doesn't have long now. If he were to lift his head from Robin's shoulder, he would be able to see the clock that has permanently wedged itself into the wall of his home.

Robin spends every waking hour with Steve from then on. She's there when he wakes in a cold sweat and she's there the first time Vecna gets him; the first time he feels cold fingers digging through his darkest memories to make him relive them all. He can hear the faint sounds of Robin's screaming as he is forced to relive the first time his father hit him, the first night he spent alone in his house, the first time he had his heart broken, the first time he watched a friend die.

'Dancing in the Dark' by Bruce Springsteen blares loudly in his ears just as Eddie's blood is drying on his clothes and then instead of kneeling in the grimy dirt of the upside down, he's kneeling on his kitchen floor, still in his pyjamas with Robin's arms holding him firmly in place.

"I thought it wasn't going to work." She cries. "You were in the air, Steve. I-I couldn't reach you. I had to climb on the bench -"

"It's okay. It worked. I'm here." He shushes her softly and brings their foreheads together; they're both breathing rapidly and there's tears staining their cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere." The clock chimes almost mockingly in his ears.

––––

Steve never expected to be back here. To be standing under the stormy red sky of the upside down, armed to the teeth with weapons to fight something they thought was already dead. But things haven't exactly been going his way as of late.

The second everyone found out Vecna has his eyes on Steve, they were all piling into multiple cars and fucking climbing down one of the cracks into the upside down.

What if they fail again? What if they go to all this trouble and Vecna snaps Steve like a twig the second they get too close?

Steve secretly wished the others never found out. He wished they were all still up in Hawkins swimming in his pool and laughing so loud it drowned out the clock in his ears. He wished they would listen if he told them to leave him here, to go home and forget about him.

"It wouldn't stop with you." Nancy says to him because she can read him like a fucking book. Steve didn't even have to say anything. She touches his arm gently and offers Steve a comforting smile. "Let us protect you for once."

Steve can see the fear in her eyes, but he doesn't say anything. He nods once and keeps pushing on through the never ending darkness.

They should all know by now that things never go the way they want.

They find Vecna easy enough, the dumb bastard is in the exact same place as last time and no one but Steve seems to think it's a trap. "It's too obvious!" He tells them, but no one is listening. No one ever listens to him in these situations. He can feel Vecna's ice-cold fingers prodding at the back of his mind as they creep through the house.

Instead of Vecna being on his own like they expected, there's something, or rather someone, crouched low to the ground at his feet; a guard dog ready to pounce.

A guard dog that has the same blood matted hair as the boy Steve spent weeks mourning, the same high cheekbones and soft, pouted lips. But it isn't him, it isn't Eddie. The thing at Vecna's feet snarls and reveals two rows of bloody, dagger like teeth and his usual kind, brown eyes are just,,, black. So black, Steve feels like he can see his own terrified face in them.

There's a split second where Steve thinks he's going to wake up. He's going to jolt awake in his bed and be pulled away from this nightmare.

But it never happens.

The last thing Steve hears is the guttural scream that emits from the creature that was once Eddie before he is sucked into Vecna's hold, his feet dangling above the ground as he's slowly lifted into the air.

This is it, he thinks. They came all this way just for him to die right in front of them.

Steve can't see what's going on around him and can barely hear anything over the sound of his younger self screaming. He's trapped in his own fucking head. Hands pat him down and dig around in his pockets for the walkman; the walkman he was supposed to grab out of the car.

He didn't grab it. He fucking left it on the front seat of the car.

Steve didn't even get to say goodbye.

"They don't need you anymore." Vecna's voice rattles through his head. "You're disposable." He's standing before Steve now. They're in his house, standing in the middle of the kitchen as younger Steve watches his parents leave for the millionth time. "Even your parents didn't want you."

He's right. They've been relying on him less and less. The only reason the party is even here is because there's a chance someone else, someone more important, could get caught in Vecna's trap if they don't stop him.

Steve's just collateral. A bump in the road to victory.

Steve stops fighting. He's done.

He takes in a deep breath and waits for the pain, waits for Vecna to finish him off, but the pain never comes. In fact, he can feel himself floating back to the ground, can feel hands grabbing at his arms and legs and pulling him down, down, down.

"Steve, can you hear me? Steve! Steve?" That voice... he never thought he'd hear that voice again. Maybe he was still in his head, maybe this was another sick joke from Vecna. "Hey, big boy, are you with me?"

"Eddie?" And when his vision comes back to him, he's really there. Eddie is cradling Steve in his arms, and if Steve isn't so relieved to see him, he'd be more worried about what happened to the monster he saw just moments ago. Well, he thought it was moments ago. "What happened? Is this real?"

Eddie smiles down at him; just a normal sharp teeth free smile. Steve sits up and reaches out to touch Eddie's face, the face he's seen in his dreams for weeks. The black, soulless eyes he'd stared into earlier are replaced with the kind, brown eyes he'd drowned in the first time they met.

But then he notices something else.

Eddie's skin is scar free. There's not a single scratch on him. There is no evidence he was ripped apart by the bats.

Something's wrong. He looks around, expecting to see Robin or Nancy, just anyone, but they're alone. Sensing his rising panic, Eddie reaches out and gently holds his face, a small, sad smile pulling at his lips.

"It's okay. It's over now, Steve. You can rest."

#tw mentions of death #so yeah.... steve didnt make it <//33333 #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4

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nicksbestie · 5 months

Text

Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo

a series

part four (read part three here)

Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.

Warnings : none yet!

Word Count : 1254

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : sorry this one took me so long!!!

You hadn’t lied when you said that you were going to come back to The Ivy to both spend time reading new books there, but also to spend time with Matt.

It was a win for both of you, but it had now been a week since you had been to The Ivy, and Matt couldn’t deny the disappointment racked through him every time he went through an entire shift at work without seeing you there. You weren’t avoiding him, but you were trying to get settled in at your new place, get everything finished up, and it had gotten a little overwhelming trying to balance the final touches of moving and also work. It wasn’t for another two days until the weekend came around that you finally made yourself get out of the house, deciding to go back.

You’d been holed up in your new home for days on end, only leaving for necessities, and you knew that some outside time would really do you some good, and taking a walk down to the bookstore would do perfectly. Not to mention, you would get to see Matt again, which you had been looking forward to. You’d only interacted once, but you’d had a nice conversation, and it seemed like he enjoyed talking to you as well, so you hoped he would be there today. What you didn’t know was that Saturdays were Matt’s day off, and you had decided to show up on a Saturday.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you were slightly disappointed when you showed up and there wasn’t a familiar face in the store, but you shook it off, knowing that Matt had a life too, one that had been established where you lived for a while now. He didn’t live at the bookstore. (Matt would argue that he almost did, at this point.) You browsed for a little while, getting the same coffee from the cafe that you had gotten last time, taking your time and moving to the back of the store where the small hidden room was, hoping that nobody else would be occupying it. Having not explored the full bookshop yet, you wandered around the windows, loving the sunny cushions up right under hanging light bulbs. The place really did feel very homey.

As you made your way around, you picked up a couple of extra books, smiling to yourself when you noticed how much more relaxed you felt. You fully credited it to the fact that this was the one other place in the new city that you really felt familiar in, and that so far, you had set the bar for amazing experiences here. The more you wandered around, the more you fell in love with the place, and you noticed every spot where someone had transformed this building from whatever had previously occupied it. You could tell a lot of hard work had gone into this building, and a lot of love had poured from the hands that had created it. Always an artist, your imagination flooded with all of the possibilities of what this shop could have looked like before.

It caused beautiful scenes to flow through your mind, images of the walls being painted over with a gorgeous pastel color, someone nailing up bookshelves, the trucks of books being delivered. Glancing over at the small cafe tucked into the corner, you could see the construction of it play before your eyes, like a miniscule projector was inserted right behind them. You probably looked a little silly to anyone just passing by, as you were just standing there, letting the creativity inside your mind run wild. Shaking yourself out of it, you finished taking your slow lap around the store, and walked back to the tiny room that you had been sitting in just a week prior, wrapping your hand around the handle as you pulled the bookcase to the side, heart plummeting when you caught sight of another person inside of it. The disappointment in your mind immediately disappeared when the person sitting with their back to you turned around, hearing the slight sound of the shelf sliding open.

“Welcome back!”

You smiled, closing the “door” behind you, setting your books and coffee down before sitting across from him.

“Matt! I thought you weren’t working today.”

He smiled back at you, picking up one of the books from your stack, looking at the back of it.

“I’m not. Just here to hang out for a while.”

He handed you the book back, not saying much while you read the back of the book he had been reading before you walked in. You handed it back to him before you spoke again.

“You’d think you wouldn’t want to spend your free time in a place that you work in, but with it being this place, it makes sense.”

“I love working here, and I love being here whenever as well. It gets me out of my house, and it gives me a comfortable space to be in.”

You looked around, nodding.

“This is such a comforting little room.”

“It is, isn’t it? I found it my first week working here when I was trying to find a place to escape questioning customers for my break.”

He laughed a small bit after that statement, and you laughed with him. Having worked in retail before, you knew exactly what that feeling was like, and you, too, had often tried to avoid people while you were on your break.

“It’s nice to be here, I was hoping I’d see you. I can’t lie, I was slightly disappointed when I thought you weren't working.”

Matt gave you a playful look over the edge of his pages.

“Wow, have I got you that hooked already?”

You rolled your eyes, the smile on your face telling him that you weren’t actually annoyed with him.

“Well, I have only lived here for a week. I have no other friends.”

“So we’re friends?”

You looked back down at your book, embarrassment heating up your face, scared that you overstepped.

“Not if you don’t want to be.”

His head snapped back up from where he had been reading.

“No, no, I would love that! I’m honored that I get to be the first one.”

He smiled at you, and the embarrassment slowly faded, smiling back at him, the moment interrupted by a phone ringing. Matt immediately took his phone out of his pocket, answering it. Before he picked up, you could see the name “Nick” flash across the screen, remembering that Nick was one of his brothers.

“Sorry, one second.”

You nodded, returning to your book and catching Matt’s end of the conversation, but tuning out the most of it as to give him a little bit of privacy. It wasn’t until he hung up that you tuned back in, noticing Matt was standing up.

“I’m so sorry, my brothers need help with something at home, I have to go.”

You could see the genuine sorrow on his face, and you gave him a reassuring smile.

“No worries! I’m sure I’ll catch you around. It was great to see you again!”

He was about to leave when he turned back around, pulling one of the paper bookmarks from the store out of his pocket and scribbling on it.

“Here’s my number. Friends hang out, right? Text me.”

He left before you had a chance to say anything, leaving you with a new contact number and a smile on your face.

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0

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@tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

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boysbellyrubs · 3 months

Note

hi! I love your work, if you don't mind could you make a sickfic where a male character of your liking mistake a stomach flu as motion sickness, because he's in a car/airplane/boat. Thank you.

Sorry for making you wait so long for this. I'm finally free of exams so I had time to write this, it's kinda short and rushed but I hope you enjoy :)

The drive to Queenstown had always been known to cause motion sickness. The twisty roads stuck high up against the hills were a recipe for disaster. Caine felt himself sliding around in the passenger seat, trying desperately to stare at one spot outside the car.

“Feeling okay?” Quinn asked. The car's radio turned down as Quinn took notice of Caine’s silence. Monitoring each other on the drive was something they had agreed on before they left, knowing how treacherous the trip was going to be. Caine didn’t want to think about when he would have to drive back, the thought of plummeting face first down the cliff made his insides curdle.

His inside curdled on their own though. The roads curved and wrapped around his stomach, sending ominous gurgles and neon warning signs lit up in his head. Caine cringed inwards, hating the queasy feeling nestled deep in his belly, it made his head spin and his eyes water.

Quinn tried again, “Caine? I asked if you were okay.”

“Feeling a little queasy.” He mumbled, arms squeezing across his middle. His boyfriend groaned a little.

“I’m sorry, hon, but we’ve got a ways to go before we get to some flat. Can you hold out until then?”

Caine really wanted to say no. But, Quinn was right. It was impossible for them to pull over. He nodded but a small whimper left his lips. It felt like his brain was sliding around inside his skull, bouncing against bone and spinning up his eyeballs. He looked directly forward, breathing heavily through his nose. Quinn silently turned up the air con, an icy blast of air hit Caine square in the face.

As they drove on, Caine found a good spot on the horizon for his eyes to rest. He ignored the speeding images of other cars and green hills beside him. A cramp tore up his middle, gurgling angrily at him. Every breath he took caused another fresh wave of nausea to rise up.

“Do you need a bag or something?” Quinn said, eyes focused on the road. Even though Caine was clearly suffering, driving them off into the depths of the mountains was a lot worse. “There’s one in the glove box.”

Caine shakily reached for it. He knew it was coming, he just didn’t know when. He closed his eyes at the uncomfortable feeling, hating the suspense and the build up of bubbly nausea brewing inside him. With some more shaky breaths he lowered his legs from their curled up position and let himself sit in misery, plastic bag crumpled up in his grasp.

The sun was beaming into the car, the noon brightness causing his eyebrows to crease. The air conditioner was suddenly useless. Caine felt himself sweating under his layers but shivering like a leaf. He opened up the bag a bit, letting out a breath through his mouth.

He could barely talk. “Quinn, I really don’t feel good.” It was a struggle to even open his mouth. Caine was terrified any indication of an escape would send his stomach hurtling into the bag.

“I know, honey. Maybe ten more minutes.” Caine didn’t think he’d be able to last that long. No matter how hard he tried, the car’s movement was something he couldn’t just ignore. He felt his jaw clench, aching with the beginning of the end. His stomach chose that moment to cramp.

“Oh, fuck me.” This was one of the worst experiences of his life. Trapped inside with only a plastic bag to calm his fears. His stomach lurched. Caine’s back arched and he dropped his head into the bag, hovering over his knees like he was elderly. The sudden movement made his vision swim. He was the picture of miserable.

His shaky hands wrapped tightly around the handles as his stomach let go. A throaty heave brought up a mouthful, cutting off his air supply with little warning. He gagged again as the ache inside his stomach tripled. The entire atmosphere of the car changed, it felt like he was floating through space as another heave assaulted him.

Caine’s mouth was wide open, desperate for a breath of air, but vomit won the battle. The sweat on his brow dripped into the bag. He felt disgusting. He could vaguely hear Quinn’s voice. Caine desperately needed to hold his belly, hating the way it contracted and heaved. The car took a sharp turn. Caine’s stomach took its own turn and pivoted up to his throat, another rolling gag made him spit up hot acidic vomit. He groaned at the feeling, his throat scratchy.

The sharp turn however was Quinn finally being able to pull over. The car's engine rumbled quiet and Caine lifted his head just a bit to see the rolling countryside of the vineyards in his view. Well, if there was any place to get violently sick, it was Queenstown.

His door opened and Quinn’s voice finally was loud enough to be heard over the blood in his ears. He guided Caine outside, clinging to his arms. “Take some deep breaths baby.”

Caine’s legs were shaking. “Can I sit down?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. There you go, just relax.” He still had the bag in his hands. Caine imagined the sloshing to be what his stomach was doing. Despite being outside and stationary, his belly still tossed and turned. He moaned, wrapping one of his arms around it. There was a light breeze around them, drying his sweat and making him shiver. Quinn’s arms never let go.

A few moment of rest was all he was allowed. Right outside a beautiful winery, Caine felt his stomach cramp again and he belched thickly into the bag. Saliva gathered quickly inside his mouth. His cheeks filled up with vomit and he coughed it up. With no time to breath, another gag made his shoulders roll forward and he burped up more, shaking at the force.

Quinn’s steady hand rested on his back, and the other pushed up the hair that was beginning to stick to his forehead. That hand however, stilled when he touched skin. Quinn hummed as he held his hand there. “Are you sure this is motion sickness, Caine?”

His answer was anything but coherent. Caine’s mind was burning and his grip on reality was faltering.

“I think you have a fever, my love,” His hand moved to his neck, knuckles gently grazing under his jaw. “You’re very warm.”

Caine didn’t want to believe it. A nice trip ruined because of him. “I don’t even know where I picked this up though.” His voice was shot. Desperately tired and violently cold, Caine leaned into Quinn’s body, tucking his head down. The other just wrapped his arms around him. Cars whizzed past, probably wondering what the hell they were doing, but Caine needed the support. He was dizzy as fuck, feeling like the ground underneath was swaying like the ocean.

“How are you feeling now?” Quinn tried after a few minutes of silence. Caine shrugged his shoulders, exhaustion outweighing everything else he was feeling. He put his hands onto his belly.

“I think we can go. I’m freezing out here.”

“Okay, hold on to me, okay,” Quinn got him standing. They slowly walked back to the car and Quinn handed him a new sick bag. “Found this in the backseat. If you want me to pull over just say so.” He brushed back Caine’s hair again, subtly checking the fever. Caine was so weak his head fell back against the seat as a result. He closed his eyes at the feather light touches along his cheeks and around the delicate skin of his eyes.

A soft kiss was placed at the tip of his nose.

“Not too far to go. Then you can sleep away this nasty bug.” Quinn’s hand patted his stomach and then buckled him in.

The drive from then on was quite smooth, no longer winding and dangerous. Caine dozed for most of it, waking up only to cramps or to burp up vomit into the bag. The lethargy that usually came with stomach bugs was too strong though, making his bones ache and his muscles weak. Getting out of the car again stirred up his nausea once again and an embarrassing few gags filled the silence in the elevator.

However, once they finally made it to the room, Caine collapsed onto the bed and let Quinn fuss over him. Belly rubs and kisses made his body shut down, falling into sleep as he let his body battle the sickness. --

Some New Zealand scenery for ya'll. Thankfully I don't get sick when I go on this road lmao.

#emeto #stomach ache #sickfic #emetophilia #vomiting #belly rubs #belly kink #motion sickness #stomach flu

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onemillionvolts · 2 years

Text

18+. MDNI.

day two: pegging ~ diluc + f!reader

warnings: sub diluc/dom reader, u call him "good boy"

Kinkmas 2022 Masterlist

"aww, master diluc..." you chide, licking your lips as you take in the sight of him on all fours atop the bed—a sight so unfamiliar, as usually it's you in his position, and he in yours.

you hum as you lube up the strap-on, only wishing you could see diluc's face. you can only imagine that it's as red and vibrant as his hair, flushed with embarrassment as you see him in such a vulnerable state. you smack his ass, hard, pulling a harsh grunt from his lips.

you press the tip of the lubed up strap to his ass, pushing in inch by inch. slow enough as not to hurt him too badly—the sting it causes is evident from your boyfriend's sharp inhales. tears roll down his cheeks, his hands balled up into fists as you finally bottom out.

"you take it so well, diluc," you affirm, hands kneading at his ass as you wait for him to give you the clearance to proceed.

"you can move," he chokes out, still incredibly flustered from this entire experience. you do aa he says, beginning to rut your hips back and forth, watching as the sillicone cock disappears into his hole, accompanied by low groans from diluc.

you reach around his waist as you fuck into him, wrapping your hand around his achingly hard cock, beginning to stroke it up and down, using his precum as lubricant for his length. his ass squirms against you as he slowly but surely gives in, moving his hips against you at the rhythm of each thrust.

not wanting to leave a hand unoccupied, you lean forward to take a fistful of his hair, pulling it back to the sound of a delighted, almost whorish, groan from diluc. "enjoying this a lot, hmm? good boy."

he is, there's no hiding it; his hips are directly in tune with yours, his cock is rock hard as you stroke it, and his sounds are heavensent.

he hisses as you tug back on his hair—it makes his cock twitch in your hand, even. you watch as diluc's ass bounces against the strap with every thrust, his walls tight around it while you fuck him, using no less than the same intensity and fervor he uses when he's the one in control; it's only fair, right?

you surely won't find diluc complaining, no, he's far too busy moaning and groaning from the immense amount of pleasure you're giving him. you're driving him crazy, this he's quite certain of. the way you fuck into him with the toy is addicting, especially combined with how you stroke his cock. he never thought that he would like this so much—now he feels like he can't possibly get enough of the sensation.

he can sense his arms about to give out, and you can see them wobble out of the corner of your eye. once they do, you release the grip you had on his hair, sending diluc plummeting face first onto the mattress. the comforter under him muffles his moans as you slam into him, still expertly handling his cock, jerking him off almost absentmindedly, yet to him, it's perfect.

diluc can feel himself growing closer as he raises his hips higher, giving you a new angle to fuck him in. tears and drool stain the bed under him as you rail his tight hole, his low moans flowing from him like a waterfall.

his breaths pick up in intensity as he gets close, finding it to be a miracle that he's even lasted this long. he tries to alert you of his incoming orgasm, but it comes out as muffled nonsense against the mattress. you're able to sense it anyways, the way his cock twitches and hips stutter are good enough tells.

you stroke his length faster, moving your hips against his with more speed as well, wanting to give diluc the best orgasm he could possibly dream of.

and you achieve that with relative ease as he cums, seed shooting from his tip like a fountain onto your hand and the bedsheets. you fuck him through his climax, only pulling the strap out once he's entirely collapsed onto his side, eventually gathering the strength to turn over to his back and face you.

all the shyness and embarrassment from before is nonexistent in his expression. his actions reflect this as well, as he parts his own thighs, parting his lips to speak.

"again."

#genshin smut #gi smut #genshin impact smut #diluc smut #diluc x reader smut #diluc ragnvindr smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin thirsts #genshin impact thirsts #diluc thirst #✶ neon.writing ✶

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slickchickchocolatier · 1 year

Text

Mermaids Tale - Chapter 8

Okay i managed to finish chapter 8 and am posting it. not really proofread so please, ignore the errors and mistakes. we're getting closer and closer to the good parts.

You shut off the row of fluorescent lighting in the great hall of the museum, the clicking of your heels against the tile flooring seldomly pleases your ears as the echo of each click clack travels around the artifacts.

It has been over 3 months since you met Heeseung, yet only a week since you last spoke. The last meeting you had with him…it was…

‘How could he do that to me?...I never want to see him again. Should I move? But I just got to this city…’

You became pensive in thought, wondering that if he really was an Adam. Not only that, but the effect he had when he sang at the karaoke bar…it was the same with you. What was he, exactly? Is he truly an Adam or something else? Is it even possible? The clan was formulated in Ancient Greece, can someone of Korean ethnicity be an Adam?

You guess that it could have happened. Heeseung could be a descendant of a clan member that somehow, made his way to Korea at some point of time in history.

You ran through numerous possibilities that would support any logic you could think of as to provide a reason that would ground your doubts, trying to make yourself feel reassured. Your mind relives the second that you extended your hand politely, stating your name and a proper greeting as you prepare to shake his hand, leading to your despair and ultimate shock when you were able to physically feel the touch of his hand holding onto yours.

Worse than that, the last meeting you had at the friendly gathering when you had done karaoke…after everyone left, he…

The image of Heeseung’s face as he bit his lips, grazed his tongue over the top row of his straight teeth, looking like he was about to feast on his prey…you. In some aspect, he got a taste. The moment his hands roamed and groped your breast, touched you in the area that you had never breached with your own hand, causing you to melt and experience something you’ve never felt before. When he took his fingers, after glazing them with a part of you, and licked them clean while making you watch…at the time, you felt strange. You were fearful and yet, there was something else about it…that in that split second, you didn’t seem to mind it, because your body wanted more.

Now, being away from him and isolated in your workplace, it made your blood boil just thinking about it.

You remember going back home that night, wondering if he truly was what you were warned of for so long. The thought of it scared you, so much, that you nearly heeded your mother’s words of direction. A piece you believed you should have, although you nearly felt confident that everything was safe as long as you remain at a distance from him. At this point, moving may be a considerable option, even though you had just relocated six months ago.

Your mind shifted from meeting Heeseung to the night you made that promise to your mom, the promise you didn’t keep after she gave you her earnest warning.

……..

“We can and we would feel everything. Even without being anywhere the ocean. That is the most significant way to tell, since the ancient times, Adams became the only man that Sirens can feel. That means, they can inflict pain. Outside or beneath our skin.”

“Then…what then, mama? If I run, where do I go?”

‘……….’

“You go back to the sea.”

………

The flashback ends abruptly as you hear the door from across the conference lobby nearby open. It was strange, considering everyone had clocked out, the only personnel that remained was security who were posted on the first level near the main entrance. They only conduct their security roves at midnight, which enhanced the confusing state you were in as you slowly made your way towards the lobby to see who had just walked in.

Your heart plummets to the to the bottom of your stomach.

Heeseung.

What is he doing here? How did he even know you’d be here? Did he find out you work here?

A series of questions run through your head as you felt a small gulp race down the center of your throat. You never told him where you worked, where you lived, or the usual spots you go for coffee or the markets. You never told him anything yet, he here he was, walking towards you.

Clad all in black, his leather jacket sways as he strutted in a rather harsh manner, as if he was on a mission. He was looking directly at you as he walked past the chairs and the conference table, his broad shoulders and arms develop a momentum from his manner of walking, giving him an aggressive posture. His face was firm, very stern frankly, but you noted the hint of fluster in his countenance as he began breathing slightly heavier the closer he got to you.

You opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing here, but for some unimaginable reason, your voice would not produce a sound. Instead, you found yourself muted as you stood there just for Heeseung to grab you, pinning your arms to the sides of your torso as he keeps walking, your hands grabbed on to the leather sleeves of his jacket, cupping his elbows for support as his relentless movement forces you to take multiple steps back until your back makes harsh contact with the wall.

‘No!...Not this again!’

Strands of your hair were caught in his grasp of your arms, semi-weaved in between his fingers as he squeezes them, burying the pads of his fingers into your skin. You started to feel the pain.

The pain…

A cross between the sudden realization that you regained the sense of touch as he encounters you, and the pain of his grip, swirled you into an emotional frenzy. Looking down at one of his hands that firmly gabbed onto you, you slightly shift up, wincing as your mouth slightly juts open.

You noticed the way his face was looking at you. It was calm yet he had a peculiar expression that almost made him looked concerned, but also aware of what he was doing, like he was testing something.

Keeping the expression, he squeezes his grip around your arms. You wince again, only this time a small gasp escapes your mouth.

“You feel that… don’t you?”

Your eyes felt shattered as they widened in horror.

What did he just say?

“W-what?...” you stuttered, the burn on your eyeballs indicated you were on the verge of sobbing from fear.

You play dumb for a moment, that little voice tries to calm you by telling you he was just speaking nonsense.

“I said…do you feel it?” he speaks out through gritted teeth and furrowed eyebrows. You was warning you through his expression, to not play with him, he was in no mood for it. Why? Why was he like this with you? How did he know to ask you if you could….feel?

You noticed his expression was starting to have less of that concerned look as a very subtle hint of annoyance shows within his brow line and his eyes as they glared down to you.

“Wh-what are you doing here? How did you know where I work?”

You winced in pain in between your words as you bid him to answer you. His face transitions to a very composed expression as he tilted his head back just slightly, projecting his features to look almost demeaning as he eyes you down with sharp, black, and piercing eyes. He took a single breath through slightly parted lips, leaned his face in and whispered in your ear.

“Siren…”

Your body jolts up as your hands break their position of cupping his elbows, instead, you reach up to place them on the broad surface of his chest as you begin pushing away. The look of fear and worry plaster your eyes as you struggle to break free from his grasp, your legs begin to tremble.

“Let me go! I said let me go!”

He looks at you sternly once more. How did he know? How did he…?

“So…you knew? Since the first time we met you knew about…me?”

He looked almost as if he was angered by the fact that you had a hint of who he was and refrained from telling him.

“Let me go Heeseung.”

You tried to match the harshness of his gaze as you sternly repeated your demand. It only propelled him to look angrier, and you were scared upon wondering what his intentions were.

Seeing the reflection of the light bouncing off the shine in your eyes, he leans his face closer towards you. Backing you up to the wall entirely, you were restricted in avoiding him closing in on you.

He got closer, you turned your face off to the side, his hands released their grasp of your arms. He reaches up and places his hand on your cheek and pulls your face forward, flushed with his.

His other hand finds your pelvic bone and he gently leaves it planted there as he pushes, causing you to shove tightly against the wall.

Taking a second to brush the tip of his nose against yours, his eyelids slowly becoming half shut and his slightly parted lips tapping against yours, he pushes out a long steady breath. You can’t believe that, even when it came to the temperature of his vapors, you could feel it. You felt everything.

Noticing your sudden reaction towards his actions, he closes the distance completely and kisses you.

Your first kiss. So this is what it feels like? His warm tongue forcing pass your lips, breaking entry, gliding over yours and merging deeper into your throat, while grazing over the roof of your mouth. It’s the first time you got to feel a kiss.

Then you realized, within this moment, there were physical surfaces, objects, and body parts you’ve never felt before, and you could feel them right now. Such as the wall behind you, the cool surface of it touching your skin, or his belt clip poking aginst your groin. You could feel it all, the wall, the kiss the inside of someone’s mouth, and the tip of someone’s nose. You could feel those things because of Heeseung.

You were relishing and becoming familiar with the sensation of everything.

Throughout your entire life, you never got to experience a moment such as this. The feeling of touch and physical sense had been limited to specific elements, and objects that could only be found by the sea whenever you basked in the water. Those countless days where you were the most joyful at the feeling of the wind, the sand, and the water, it all felt dull compared to this moment.

He gently breaks the kiss, but remained just a hair away, as if he was going to give it you again.

His eyes were lustful, and his breathing was deep.

“...You felt that?...” He whispered to you. His voice was softer than it was a moment ago, calm and deep, and very tender.

You nodded, also developing a lustful component in your eye. You couldn’t help it, this feeling and this sensation, all triggered by his touch…it was like nothing you ever could imagine. Your body reacted to it in a way that you wish it hadn’t, but in a way…you were welcoming it as you found yourself breathing harder, a painful knot developing in your gut, and the pulling of your hips as you retract them from waning to grind against his groin.

Seeing your dazed expression triggered him to smirk in a subtly manner, letting out a breath that expressed a hint of joy. Noticing it, you snapped out of your desiring state and recontinued sour efforts to push him away.

He didn’t fight it, instead, he took two steps back as you peeled yourself off the wall, the moment you broke physical contact with him you felt your body losing the sense of touch, only to return when he walked after you and grabbed your wrist.

With a perplexed look on his face, he slightly shook his head at you in confusion and raised a brow at you, hinting the demand for an answer or an explanation.

“Let go.”

“Why?”

“Because…I want to leave.”

His grip tightened around your wrist, your sense of touch returns along with the pain and pressure admitted by his grip.

“Because of the history between our ancestors?”

His words shocked you, forgetting the importance of getting away, you turn and inquired about his knowledge on both of your ancestral makeup.

“How…how do you know of that?”

“My grandfather told me….my great-great-grandfather, actually.” Still maintaining the grip on you, his eyes shift their gaze to the floor beneath your feet.

“….is he…?”

Heeseung knew where you were going with your words as they trailed off. He nodded as he looked into your eyes once more.

“Yeah…he is. I guess I’m one too…an Adam, or whatever we’re called.”

Feeling a moment of defeat caused you to look off to the side of your shoulder in amazement.

A whole male line of Adams that had been in the city you moved into and resided in for the last six months…how could you be so unlucky?

“We should talk.” Heeseung’s words were spoken firmly, but with a calm tone in his voice.

But you didn’t want to talk; you didn’t want to be in the same room or building as him. Your mother would scream if she were to witness this right now. You should be heading to the airport and getting a one-way ticket to Greece, next to the Adriatic Sea, just like your mother had done when your father was reaching of high age.

But Heeseungs expression was mellow and calm. You’re not sure what your mother had imagined or pictured in the case of seeing an Adam, no one did, apart from the original Sirens born directly out of Poseidon’s blood and seafoam. But you wondered if she had become overly fearful from what transpired with the direct line of the clan, because Heeseung was not presenting any threat that you could sense. There was no presence of danger or ill will, just him in his normal temperament. At least, for now.

You stayed, just for a little while to talk to him. Although the talking didn’t really start until after a very lengthy pause of silence, where you both found yourselves staring at the wall and the floor.

“What did your grandfather tell you?”

“Quite a bit. Mostly giving me an explanation…”

“An explanation?”

Facing you directly, his legs were extended at a tilt to project the leaning posture he committed to against the front of your desk.

“…The day I met you…I started to…get this feeling.”

“A feeling?...” You raised your eyebrow, starting to get concerned with his choice of words.

“Yeah…well, more like urges. It was like…I had this instinct to always find you, to the point where I couldn’t sleep. That’s how I was able to find you tonight. There’s a pulse that beats faster…and louder when you’re nearby. It becomes more intense the closer I get to you. ”

You should have left right at that moment, but for some reason you needed to hear more as you grew dangerously curious about what he was saying.

“He told me that as a descendant of your bloodline…you don’t have the ability to physically feel anything…I guess that’s why, our bloodlines had history together.

“You’re saying ourancestors had history because we could feel…you?” you scoffed out.

You puzzled the concept of what his grandfather had told him. It didn’t appear to be as descriptive from what the women in your family had passed down to each generation.

“I have to go. I can’t be here with you.”

His face reflected a vivid image of disappointment. “Why?”

“Just…leave me alone, Heeseung. I’m…I’m thinking of leaving and moving away. I can’t be anywhere around you or your family.”

You didn’t know how to finish off your sentence, considering you truly were unaware of what would happen, it didn’t help that your mother was so vague, yet it wasn’t her fault, since more than likely didn’t know herself. She was only told the same things she shared with you.

“Would it be so bad if you…stayed?”

He asked you, evident in his attraction towards you, his affection and fondness towards you grew more intense each time you met up with him.

“I think it would be.” you spoke out bluntly, unsure how to back up the plausibility of your statement.

“I don’t think it would” He straightens his posture and moves away from his leaned state at the front of your desk. “ I think you’re scared…but you don’t seem to know what you’re scared of. Are you scared of me? Is that it, y/n?”

You avoided to answer. You became evasive to the manner of how he appealed to you with his demeanor and restricted yourself from making any subtle movement in your body to reflect that you were entertaining his rather appalling statement.

“It’s just…if you go, I don’t know if I can stop. It gets worse the more you push me away, and I can’t control it…you’re turning me into a monster.” He speaks out softly as he slowly makes his way towards you.

Your heart started to beat faster, your chest was sore, and your insides was churning.

“I just don’t know why…we can’t leave our ancestors out of it…out of me and you. I don’t know why…you believe that we can’t change the pace of history between our two family lines.”

He was appealing to you in earnest; the moment he saw your face he lost his breath from the sight before him.

Your eyes were like hooks, he couldn’t find any way to break contact from them. He’s never seen a woman so beyond beautiful. Society has given him a lot of mixed feelings when it comes to true and earthly beauty, with all the girls in Korea, and nearly every other continent, they all resorted to extreme artificial measures to enhance their faces and bodies. Yet, after exhausting so much time, effort, and money on to themselves, they didn’t reach his soul like you did.

You had an essence about you, an aura, and it wasn’t just an emotional vibe. He could see it in your eyes, lips and hear it through your voice, it only fueled him to become more daring, because to him, you were his Mona Lisa, the Virgin Mary, his Eve, the ideal canvas of womanhood.

The moment you shook his hand, and he saw the reaction on your face, his body felt like for the first time in his life, it was coming together like a puzzle, piece by piece. He never felt so whole, there was this yearning to feel more, and to see what else he’s missed out on in life.

He felt a burn that started in a consolidated state, right in the center of his chest. When he left for home that night from the party, he could feel it traveling his entire body, even in his skin. The only time it wasn’t infesting his soul was when he had you and touched you. That’s how he knew you belonged to him.

That minute when he was rendered motionless at the parking lot, he didn’t know what was happening but there was this knowing inside him that told him it was because of you. He needed to be close to you. He needed to be close, not for the fact that your obvious beauty was something that every man wanted for himself, although it was a triggering factor for him, but he also knew that you were special.

The flashbacks of your face, the sound of your voice, and the grace you carried as you walked, it felt unreal but also familiar to him and he was drawn to it. It wasn’t obsession or some level of infatuation, it was stronger. A lot stronger. He couldn’t sleep, eat, and every second he breathes the burn in his chest radiates with ignition.

He was suffering, yearning, and he was wanting. He would never admit it to you, although he already mentioned that he can pick up on your presence, but he had this continuous urge to find you. He needed to find you and keep you; he wasn’t sure if he hated himself for feeling that way, either. From the moment he started feeling the pressure, it was confusing and frustrating, but when his grandfather told him of their bloodlines, Heeseung began to accept that you both belonged with each other, and from the moment he came to that resolve, that’s when he started enjoying this game of seeking you out.

As Heeseung remained pensive, you raised your sight from the spot on the tile floor to tell him that you were leaving once more. But you stood frozen solid after noticing that while he was deep in thought, his eyes were staring straight into yours, right into the depths of your soul, almost as if he was seeing through you.

You’ve never seen eye contact like that, it was eerie to you. You would be lying if you told him that his eyes didn’t make you feel like you were in danger. They did.

You felt threatened, and intimidated. You’re not even sure how it was possible, but his face was different than how it looked just minutes ago, it had altered significantly enough to change his countenance, and it was literally happening before your very eyes.

His brows were normally straight which gave him a friendly, and soft appearance; however, you were stunned to notice that there was a bit of an arch to them. It casted a shadow over his eyes that, as you watched, hovered, and darkened the brown coloration, creating a marbling of black and glossy shine that was spearing through you. The round, almond shape became sleeker and narrower, his lids were heavier. The combination of the arch in his brows and the transition in his eyes made him look sinister.

His mouth was shut at a relaxed state, but you could see the minor movement in his jaw that his tongue was gliding over his teeth, the inside of his cheek, and behind his bottom lip. He looked hungry. His lips were no longer a lush, nude pink, instead, they were slightly darker, the maroon tint in the shade made him look bold. His cheeks, which normally had a suppleness to them, were slightly more contoured and sharper. His glare was so intense that you started to notice tiny beads of sweat tracing his hairline. His hair no longer looked soft, it was still combed over but the strands looked wild and rough, lacking the luster and smoothness they had just moments ago.

You could feel your eyes growing wider as you watched the transformation of his face, it was a subtle change, but the difference was vastly. He looked as if he matured a bit. Just as you noted all the changes, you were horrified when you noticed another change as he spoke.

“What?” He chuckles. “See something different? Or is there something about my face that you’re taking notice of?” he smiles as he licks his lips, the look he gave to you..it was….

‘What is happening to him?...’

Heeseung’s voice was deep. It was calm but there was a vibration in his tone, it sent predatory signals to your ears. He said his words with a smirk, but it didn’t carry vibe of a quirky, fun, and playful essence. This one wasn’t like that at all. The corner of his mouth stitching upward, revealing teeth. When he opened his mouth, you watched as his tongue glides over the bottom row of his teeth, from cheek to cheek. He did it suggestively as you watched, while he tilted his chin down and narrowed his eyes at you.

You sprinted towards the door, quickly slamming the door shut as you simultaneously exited through, and ran out of the conference room, down the nearest stairwell going past each level as you desperately try to reach the first floor.

Replaying the words he used earlier, when he spoke of the urges and how he couldn’t control them. You were beginning to realize that since he felt your skin and vice versa, the moment he saw your face, and smelled your scent, he had slowly been changing ever since.

Pushing him away and remaining distant from him these last few weeks did make him worse, but it was only his urges and desire to seek you out that was worsening. Refraining yourself from seeing him had only propelled the instincts in his blood to be drawed out from its suppressed state, like thunder, the urges and desires built from past generations of Adams, was all coming out through him.

You ran and exited the building, quickly flagging down a cab and making a trip back to your home.

Your heart was beating intensely, and fast. You were amazed that he escaped and that he didn’t follow you. Knowing that if you stayed at home for the night, he would have relied on those sensations to find you, since he’s now able to sense your presence.

Taking drastic measures, you figure it was safer to collect your belongings and head to the airport. It wasn’t the life you wanted to live, but the instinctive fear within you from this man compelled you to take the route of your mother, and the women before her. You were planning on going to Greece, and back where your ancestors emerged from, the sea.

Realizing that you were in such a rush to leave, you had left your wallet behind. Thankfully, you had additional identification at home, not to mention your passport.

The cab drops you off, and you hurriedly made your way to the door. Entering, you didn’t bother to flick on any of the lights, just one that remained dimmed as you quickly gathered your things.

As you grabbed your suitcase, you jammed anything you got your hands on, not even concerned about matching attire or going through a list, since you only had planned on being on land for one day. By the morning after you fly in, you’ll be in the water, searching for your mother and the other Sirens.

‘I can’t believe it’s come to this…I didn’t want to live that life…I wanted to stay…and I would have been able to, if it wasn’t for him.’

Pausing for a moment, you felt the frustration of having to be forced to take a path that didn’t please you. Not only that, but what if you couldn’t find your mother or the others? What then? You would be forced to roam the ocean alone…forever alone. Hiding away from men and land to conceal your identity and secret.

You knelt onto the floor with your hands on the edge of your bed to support your weakened frame as you quietly sobbed.

“Why are you crying?”

His voice….HIS VOICE….

Snapping your head back, your eyes widened as you turned your body to the side and begin tapping your fingers on the floor beneath you, wanting to grab onto something…anything, yet the smooth flat surface didn’t grant your wish.

He walks over, kneels right beside you, facing your direction. With a soft and deep tone, he smirks and asks you yet again.

“Why...are you crying, y/n?”

The tears in your eyes begin to stream down. You didn’t’ want to answer him, knowing full well that his resolve would be to try and convince you to stay with him, which was another route that you didn’t want.

“If you don’t want to go, then stay. Be mine…forever. We have our whole lives, and from the looks of it, it might be eternal…” he smirks as he reaches up, wiping the tears from your delicate face.

“So fucking pretty…” he chuckles slightly out of joy. “To think that I get to wake up every single day and see this face…” he leans into you, you suspected he was going to kiss you as he eyeballed your lips, but you turned your face away harshly.

He sighs out in disappointment. Once again, his features begin to change into a darker appeal from his normal countenance.

“…It wouldn’t be so bad, y/n. To be with the one person who understands you…. wouldn’t question your unchanged appearance and wouldn’t turn on you and reveal your secret to the world…it wouldn’t be bad at all. Why? Why can’t you see that being with me….it would make your life easier…it would make mine happier.”

His fingertips slide down your arm as he gazes down to the subtle exposure of your cleavage, emerging from the neckline of your dress.

“P-please…just leave me alone…I don’t want to leave but I don’t want to be with you. I’m…I’m scared.”

Looking back up at you, his face was stern. He looks down at your hands as he questions your remark.

“You shouldn’t be…I care for you…I desire you…i…I love you.” he softly whispers the last bit.

“Heeseung stop!”

“But I do….i love you, I want to marry you, I want to be with you. I want to keep you…so let me….let me keep you. I’m trying to give you the freedom of choice but if you’re going to be stubborn about it, then I’ll be the same way.”

He embraces you and pulls you against his frame.

“Stop!”

Shifting upwards, he pulls you up as he stands, locking both your lips in the process.

“Stop please!”

“Can you feel that? Can you….?” he speaks in between his kisses, which became more relentless and stronger the more he did it to you.

“Fuck…I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this…you’re so amazing.” He gasps out, his eyes extremely wide as he pauses the kiss. Stepping forward, he causes you to step back and fall onto the bed, with him remaining plastered to your body as he falls atop of you, smothering your face with kisses.

“Stop! Why? Why are you doing this?”

He didn’t answer for a moment or two, he was tenacious on kissing, licking, and biting your skin as his mouth was harshly assaulting your neck, chin, and collar bones.

Finally, he pauses and looks at you, pressing your foreheads together.

“Y/n…you must be a virgin…aren’t you? I bet you never had the urge to do it since…you never felt anything.” He watches as your lips quivered.

“H-Heeseung…please…don’t…just don’t.”

“I can…I can do it…I can make you everything….but since it’s your first time…it’s going to hurt….alot.” He grins against your lips, his eyes go back to being wide as he stares into yours.

“Please….i’ve never done anything…I wouldn’t….i wouldn’t hurt you or your family…or anyone…why are you doing this? Why, Heeseung?”

His expression showed off a hint of amusement.

“I already told you…I can’t control it…you’re turning me into a monster…you’re bringing out the beast within me.”

Reaching up, he gently moves the pieces of hair that lay across your face. Even with the sinister appeal within his face, he softly smiles…it was gentle and somewhat warm.

“I promise…after tonight, the next time, it wont hurt as much.” He states, gently giving you a small kiss before he continued. “But tonight…I’m afraid there’s going to be a little bit of pain…”

Looking up as he traps you within his arms, you felt hopeless.

“Let me have you…y/n just say yes. If you don’t…you’re only making it worse…I wont stop….say yes baby…let me ease my craving…let me have you, let me keep you, let me worship you….”

‘You must go back to the sea….y/n.’

For a moment, your mother’s voice travels your mind.

‘I’m sorry…mama…..i’m sorry. I really tried….but he won’t stop…he keeps coming after me. I want to leave…I really do…I wanted to live my life and continue moving on…but I’m afraid I wont be able to…at least….not without him. I have no choice. I give up….because now that he knows what he is…what I am…and now that he realizes his capabilities….I’m afraid that I am no longer safe, no matter where I go….even if it is in the sea.’

Closing your eyes, you nod as your nose grazes his cheek from the closed distance between your faces.

“Really?” he softly gasps out in delight. “You’ll be mine…forever? You’ll stay with me as long as we both live?”

Once again, you nod as you winced your eyes shut. Emotionally stabbed by the future that you’re faced with, you didn’t know if it was the fear of running into anymore Adams…or if it was the fact that Heeseung could find you no matter where you were. You gave up.

Excited at your obedience to his desires, he mashes his face against yours and engages in a heated kiss while grabbing onto your waist.

Pausing as he begins to pull the straps of your dress off your shoulders, he softly kisses them with the most tender and soft kisses you’ve ever witnessed, let alone felt. They all trailed up your neck, and up to your ear. Whispering deeply with a soft and tender tone, he tells you.

“Scream for me…my Siren. Scream out my name.”

#heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung hard hours #enha x reader #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #enhypen hard hours #heeseung yandere #yandere heeseung

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piakae · 2 years

Text

safe ☆— sim jake

synopsis ➔ a night out turns short when someone you deeply dislike tries to talk to you.

pairing ➔ fem!reader x bf!jake

genre ➔ angst, lovers to even better lovers, fluff

word count ➔ 1.2k

warnings ➔ reader has a douchebag ex, drinking, allusions to the devil’s tango, sexy jake and not so sexy ex, swearing, intended lowercase

a/n ➔ ehe. of course i had to write this trope at some point, and of course it had to be with jake. sorry this is bad btw i pulled most of it out of my asshole. have fun !!

‘you look perfect baby, stop fiddling with your hair.’ jake’s hand squeezes your thigh across the car’s console when he notices the sun viser being lowered and the mirror being opened every 30 seconds.

‘i’m meeting your brothers at a business party. how am i supposed to be calm right now?’

‘by reminding yourself you’re the most perfect, loving and beautiful woman in the world?’ he lifts his eyes from the road and shoots his signature smile at you, and it makes you redden.

his hand is placed on top of your red silk dress as your matching red heels tap on the floor of the car to the beat on the radio. you won’t deny you’re looking particularly outstanding tonight, you look invincible and feel it too. it goes well to match with your partner, sim jake, who too looks incredibly amazing in a jet black suit and dark red tie just to match you. he spent 5 minutes finding it just so you guys could look good, knowing presentation matters to you.

entering the large centre, the scent of expensive perfumes and red wine explodes, causing you to slightly grip at his sleeve. your arm is woven into his as you walk - more like he walks and you drag along - toward who you assume are the other sim sons. they look nearly as handsome as jake and people could probably mistake them as triplets, not only by looks but personality.

‘james, jaxon, this is y/n. my partner.’ he smiled wide as he somewhat presented you to his brothers. they shake your hand one by one as you bow, careful to place a hand on your chest to cover your deep cut dress.

‘wow, there was definitely a theme when naming you three.’

the night goes on, laughing, drinking. and as you here more drinks clink together, you finally decided to address the burning stare that wasn’t coming from your own boyfriend. all night you felt stares, which was normal, but it was off putting and uncomfortable.

‘you feel it too right?’ jake’s voice is hushed in a whisper as he bends down to ask, his slicked back, dark brown hair falling down to curtain his dark eyes. you look up, placing a lip between your lips and nodding. he smiles reassuringly and places a hand around your waist. ‘let’s go get a drink, then we’ll leave okay?’ you smile and walk together to the bar, sitting down on the stools and ordering two last drinks.

‘i think you just look too pretty, everyone can’t take their eyes off you.’

‘i don’t think anyone has that problem except you.’

‘oh you know me so well.’ he smiles and leans in for a kiss, sliding a hand to the small of your back as his soft lips plant onto yours. the bartender breaks it with a cough, announcing the presence of the drinks. ‘sorry.’ he smiles sheepishly and slides your drink to the table in front of you.

after a long sip, he whispers, ‘i’ll go say goodbye to my brothers, while you stay here and continue looking pretty.’

you smile and nod again, eyes following the handsome man before you turn your attention back to your drink.

your attention is quickly caught by another hand on your waist.

you quickly spin your head around, and suddenly a weight plummets down onto your shoulders and stomach. your ex is there, and you can’t believe he works for the same sort of company jake works for.

‘y/n…’

‘jesse..’ you reply monotonous.

‘you look amazing.’ you silently snarl and swat his hands away from your waist, turning towards the bar to show disinterest.

‘i know, my boyfriends already told me.’

you notice his face turn sour and you smirk, taking a sip of your drink and praying to the gods that he leaves. the atmosphere tightens as he places a hand on your shoulder and swipes your bouncy hair off your shoulder.

‘don’t touch me dickwad-‘

‘woah woah woah kitten. i was just helping you.’

‘i’d rather peel my skin off, honestly.’

he takes a quick breath in before displaying an ugly smirk. he places a dirty hand on yours and you stand up immediately, chair scraping the floor and bringing attention to you and your ex.

‘i said don’t fucking touch me.’ now, the scent of strong alcohol reeks off of him, and you can see his half lidded eyes. you search for jake with a gulp before jesse grabs your wrist, tight.

‘she said don’t touch her.’ jake rips his hand off yours and pushes him into the bar, leaving the man utterly shocked and scared at the deadliest stare a man could give. ‘fuck off.’

you widen your eyes at jake as your ex begrudgingly leaves, staring at you both as the attention dies down. the crowd was probably used to it, sadly.

jake grasps your shoulders and pulls you to a quiet part of the centre, he looks over your with panic in his eyes, mouth slightly agape as he scans you for injuries or bruises. ‘are you okay? did he hurt you?’ he asks, gulping and pushing some hair behind your ear softly.

‘i’m fine jake, he didn’t hurt me. he was just being a dick.’ you answer with a shaky breath. jake looked as though he didn’t believe you as he did another look over. the encounter made your shoulders tense and your head hurt, all you wanted was to go home. and he understood that without a word exchanged.

jake leads you out to the car park, trying to find where he parked the car as he speaks.

‘i’m so sorry that happened baby. did you know him?’

‘he was my..’ you sigh, ‘… my ex.’ you admit. he turns his head and stops both of you in place.

‘him? your ex?! oh, baby, no. how could you possibly be with him?’ he places his hands on your waist and you rest your own on his biceps.

you half laugh-half internally cry at his questions, knowing yourself that you had stooped too low in that era of your early 20’s. ‘i know. i can’t believe i was so blind to date jesse.’

‘jesse!? oh god and he has a lady name.’

‘hey, his name was the only redeemable quality about him. but trust me, i found way better guys than him after we broke up.’

jake frowns, ‘who?’

‘you, dumbass.’ you giggle and laugh, happy that the only hands touching you now were jake’s, it almost erased the dirty feeling completely. he smiles and leads you to where he guessed he had parked, whispering an oh, good.

as he takes your hand in his, you whisper,

‘thank you for saving me. i mean, i could’ve done it myself but thank you.’

‘i know you could’ve. but my emotions got the best of me. who could let a beautiful woman get touched up by some random guy?’ he chuckles and kisses you on the forehead as you keep your head down to hide a blush. even though you two have been together for months over a year, he still made your heart flutter.

‘i always feel safe around you, i hope you know that.’

‘that’s always been my goal. to make you feel safe.’

## taglist — @i520sn @raevyng @enhacolor

masterlist | taglist

#sim jake #jake imagine #jake enhypen #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake x y/n #jake sim imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #kpop #enhypen imagine #jake sim #enhypen drabbles #fluff

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gardens-light · 1 year

Text

Temtation

Trapped on a dangerous planet, with almost the whole capital hunting him down. Obi-Wan finds himself trapped between a rock and a hard place, while on a rescue mission. But there is small glimpses of good in this criminal city, it's just the matter of him accepting it...

Warnings: Course Language. Minor spoilers for Kenobi Series (Ep 2). Hand Job. Fingering. Light Smutt.

Is quite long, please forgive me as I don't know the word count.

The city of neon lights has never been a stranger for trouble. Criminals, thugs and gangs along with drugs and gambling were nothing new. So imagine the racket that shook the whole square of Downtown, when rumours spoke of a Jedi roaming the place, and the sound of screams and blasters made him painfully obvious of his location.

The chaos continued upon the rooftops of the city, bright colours of blaster-light bounced from roof to roof, as Obi-Wan returned fire at the bounty hunters surrounding him. Often peering over his shoulder calling out for Leia, as the terrified child tried to keep her distance.

"Leia! Don't!"

The sound of Obi-Wan's heart pounded against his rib cage, eyes widening as he watched her thinking of jumping the gap to the nearby roof.

"Leia! No!"

Leaping out of his hiding spot and reaching out towards Leia. Heart racing, breath fleeting as he watched her leap into the air. But only to be followed by her scream.

Leaning over the roof's edge, feeling his heart leap into his throat. Gazing down with wide eyes, as Leia clung onto a suspected wire, her tiny hands clutching onto the cable. Tears filled her eyes, as Obi-Wan witnessed the sheer terror that flashed across Leia's face.

"Hold on! Hold on tight!"

"Ben!" he could hear every tremble within her voice.

"Don't let go, Leia. Hold on tight!" sweat begun to form upon his brow. Obi-Wan's racing heartbeat came to his ears.

"Ben! Help!"

"Just... Just hold on tight!" his eyes followed Leia's terrified gaze, as she looked at the nearby wall of the building. The sound of the cable breaking free caused streams to run down her face.

"Leia! Hold on!"

Her cries echoed through the air, as the cable harshly lowered. Bouncing Leia and making it hard for her sweaty palms to keep hold.

"Leia! No!"

'Crack'

'Snap'

"Leia! No!"

Breaking free from the wall, Obi-Wan's breath got trapped in his throat as Leia's screams filled the air. Time slowed down as his muffled yell called out to the falling child, her eyes closed tightly- a mixture of fear and bracing for the ground flashed across her face. Tears rolling off her tear stained cheeks, as she plummeted to the ally below.

"Ben!"

Taking a deep steady breath, attempting to clear his mind as quick as he could. Obi-Wan reached out for Leia, concentrating on nothing but her. Focusing on The Force with every fibre of his being.

Catch her! By Makers breath catch her!

Grinding his teeth, as the cramp of his strained muscles painfully spread throughout his fingertips. Closing his eyes tightly.

I reach out with my being! I reach out with my strength! Maker grant me The Force!

What felt like a terrifying long moment, a small tug of wavy vibrations tingled across his fingertips. His eyes snapped open, as he felt Leia's body suspend in the air. Her rapid breath leaving her heaving chest, as her voice fell silent.

A small smile reached his lips, trying to focus through his blurry vision and sweating brow. Obi-Wan fought with the weak vibrations of The Force, to lower Leia. As she hovered off the ground by mare inches, Obi-Wan felt the vibrations upon his hand quiver and shake, until it fully dispersed. Causing Leia's body to lightly flomp onto her back.

A wave of relief washed over his body, but Obi-Wan knew he had no time to indulge in it. As whispers murmured among the onlookers whom witnessed the whole ordeal, Obi-Wan rushed towards a nearby ladder which lead down to the ally below. Skipping the last three steps, he rushed over to Leia whom still remained laying upon her back.

Her wide eyed stare met his worried expression, as he knelt beside her, "are you alright?" he struggled to speak between heavy breaths.

Slowly sitting up, she simply gazed at the Jedi with an expression of bewilderment. "You... You really are a Jedi..." fear still had it's soft edge of her voice. But her curios tone caused Leia to trail off into silence.

Obi-Wan lowered his head, panting a little more as he took Leia's hand in a gentle grip. "We need to keep moving..."

Turning his attention back onto her, as he helped Leia onto her feet. She lowered her head, avoiding eye contact as her tiny voice whimpered. "I'm sorry..."

"Leia..."

"I honestly didn't mean to..." her voice trembled as she tried to hide the crack that bubbled in her throat.

Obi-Wan's expression softened as he patted her head with his free hand. "It's alright... I understand, but we can't stay here. We need to keep moving."

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Leia speechlessly nodded as she followed Obi-Wan down the alley. Allowing him to wrap an arm around her shoulders and keep her close, as their footsteps echoed throughout and their feet slugged through puddles...

"All incoming and outgoing travel is canceled. Have flight identification ready for scanning." an robotic voice echoed from the transport hub.

Hiding behind a barrel within the mouth of the ally, Obi-Wan gazed onward with a studious stare. Watching the Storm Troopers march around the main square, as their black dressed superiors guarded the only entrance to the transport hub.

"Who are they?" Leia peered over the barrel, as Obi-Wan knelt by her side.

"Inquisitors." His voice now returned to the calm, he once held. "Many were Jedi who turned to the dark side. Now they hunt their own kind"

"And this is all for you?" Leia looked up at him, raising an eye brow. "Who are you?"

The sound of robotic bleeps took away his chance to answer. As Obi-Wan quickly raised onto his feet and turned around, his eyes fell on a damaged droid. Revealing the stranger from before, as the droid fell to it's knees.

"The bounty is on me. Let her go." He spoke while stepping in front of Leia in an protective stance.

"Listen carefully. The entire city's locked down. It's done." the stranger's voice held no hostility, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as the stranger holstered his blaster. And adjusted his Jedi like robes. "You need another exit. But before that time comes, you need to hang low."

"What are you talking about?-"

"I can take you to a... safe house. You'll be safe and nobody would come looking for you there." Obi-Wan's mouth opened, but the stranger cut him off before words could come out. "There are people out there who can help you."

The Jedi slowly backed away from them, while holding Leia's shoulder's protectively as she cuddled into his leg. "You expect me to trust you? You're a criminal."

"Look! Have I made a few bad decisions? Sure. Do I feel a bad about it? Sometimes. Do I like credits? Yeah. So much stuff you can buy with credits-"

"Haja"

Haja's face lit up. Not at all offended by Obi-Wan cutting him off. "You remembered my name..." his voice held a slight surprise but also a joyful tone, as though he was used to people forgetting him easily. "I'm trying to make amends. I got that family safe, and I'm gonna do the same for you. If... If I'd known what you were-"

"Doesn't matter what I am. I just need to get the girl home."

Haja briefly glanced down at Leia, whom gazed up at him with a stern stare- or an attempt at one, at least. Looking at Obi-Wan again silently nodding, "of course. But first let's get you to a safe place.-"

"And how do I know this isn't just a trap?" Obi-Wan studied Haja.

"What choice do you have?"

The Jedi hesitated before speaking, "alright... take us to your safe house..."

Walking through the crowd dancing to loud electric beats, Obi-Wan pulled his cloak around Leia a little more, hiding her from view and adjusting his hood. Leia hid her face into Obi-Wan's toga attempting to shield her eyes from the coloured strobe lights.

"Where are you taking us?" Obi-Wan shouted over the music.

"To a safe place." Haja assured as he lead the pair across the busy dance floor. Attempting to avoid bumping into people.

"Sorry guys, these is staff only. The exit is back that way." A blue human-like alien held out her hand, stopping Haja from going through the archway behind the bar.

"I am here to see her." Haja removed his hood, like he was doing a spectacular revel. "It's important..."

She looked over his shoulder, seeing fully cloaked Obi-Wan with his head hanging low. Raising an eyebrow when the slight glance of Leia's hair showing in the gap of his brown cloak.

"Please." Haja whispered as he stepped closer. "My friend just needs to hide for a couple of hours."

"Fine... But if any trouble comes this way-"

"There wont be. I promise."

After a hesitation and a heavy sigh, the blue alien stepped aside. Pulling the beaded curtain to the side of the arch, allowing Haja and Obi-Wan to pass through.

"Where are you taking us?" Obi-Wan asked.

The music became more muffled as they walked up the hall. Climbing the odd flight of stairs.

"I told you. Somewhere they wont come looking." Haja assured.

Multiple girls of all races walked past them, nearly all looking Obi-Wan up and down. Or giving his shoulder a gentle seductive touch. He covered Leia's eyes, shielding her from the provocative sight of the girls whom walked past.

"This better be good, Haja." Obi-Wan's voice remained calm, but Haja could hear the firmness in his tone. Giving the Jedi a weak smile, as they stopped in front of a door.

Haja tapped on the keypad, waiting for a short moment for the buzzing to stop.

"Hello?" your voice question from the speaker.

Haja cleared his throat, only answering "it's me."

Silence fell for a few moments, Haja gave the Jedi another weak smile as he touched the keypad again.

Please just answer. Haja's thoughts pleaded, you can be angry another time, just please answer.

"Haja. I don't have time for this." Obi-Wans firm tone certainly wasn't helping the situation.

"Don't worry. I've got this." Obi-Wan could hear the false confidence within Haja's tone, as he touched the keypad again.

The metal door opened, allowing you to peer through, a blue silk gown covered your figure and tried to brush hair out of your face. "Haja!-"

"You can hate me some other time-"

"Now isn't a good time!"

Haja stepped closer, blocking the metal door from closing. "I've brought a friend."

You looked at Obi-Wan whom silently stood to the side, he watched your brows knit together as a harsh frown came to your lips. "Now is defiantly, not a good time!"

"Leia, stay hidden." Obi-Wan whispered, as the child peered out from his cloak. "It's not safe yet-"

"You brought a kid?! This isn't exactly daycare services!" you tried to shove Haja out the doorframe. But he shoved back.

"My friends just need a place to hide for a few hours."

"A few hours?! I'm not giving up my room when I could be earning credits downstairs!"

"Do it and I'll double what you'd earn!"

You stopped shoving and looked at Haja with a raised eyebrow. "Triple it. Plus credits now."

"Done!" Haja handed over two thin silver bars. "I'll come back when it's safe for them to leave."

"Yeah. Yeah. Just get in already." You mumbled with an impaitent tone.

Haja looked at Obi-Wan gesturing him to go inside. The Jedi raised an eyebrow, "this is the 'safe house?'"

"I've given you my word." Haja placed a hand upon Obi-Wans shoulder, "I'll come back when another exit is organized." And with that he ran back down the hallway.

"Come in." You tried to sound polite, while holding a weak smile. As you felt Obi-Wan's studious gaze run over your body language as he stepped through the door.

Entering into a small, but cozy living space. A large comfortable couch took most of the room, while a tiny kitchen was cramped in a corner. Tightening your blue silk robe a little more, crossing your arms while entering the kitchen.

"Well... make yourself at home." your tone was rather sarcastic. Raising an eyebrow as Leia peered out from Obi-Wans cloak again, gazing around at her new surroundings.

As Leia took in the warm colour of the velvety walls, and wondered around the living space. Obi-Wan's studious gaze watched you close the blinds of a large window, that looked over the city of neon lights.

"Bathroom is to your left. Food and drink in the fridge." You briefly pointed at the door beside Obi-Wan, and the small fridge in the kitchen.

"This place is cool!" Leia's voice was filled with amazement. Finding every nook and cranny festinating.

"Thanks..."

" My daughter and I thank you for your hospitality. I hope we haven't disturbed your evening too much." Obi-Wan formally spoke.

"Sure..." your eyes briefly wondered over the pair. Mainly watched Leia bounce from cushion to cushion on the large couch. Her sweet giggles was the only thing that eased the awkwardness in the air. "You both must be in a bit of a tight spot to hide here for a while."

"We're farmers from Tawl."

You raised an eyebrow at the Jedi's brief response. "Such a long way from home..."

I wonder if they're the reason why the city is in lockdown...

Obi-Wan remained silent and kept his hood up as he approached Leia. "Your Highness, please..." her shoulders slumped as Leia threw herself onto the couch and slouched into the cushions.

"Would your daughter like a drink?"

"No-"

"Yes please!" Leia prompted herself up onto her knees and peered over the couch. "I'm Luna and my father is Ben, what your name?"

A warm smile came to you, as you watched Leia give Obi-Wan a cheeky expression. "I'm Y/N..."

Turning your back and reaching into the overhead cabinets, the pair began to mutter among themselves behind you. Not quite catching the convocation but Obi-Wan's hushed tone made it clear he wasn't happy with the child.

Grabbing a random mug, and pulling a jug of cold water from the fridge. Your eyes glanced at the holopad nearby, cocking your head to the side as you studied the picture.

Interesting...

Giving the pair a quick glance, biting the inside of of your cheek as Obi-Wan removed his hood. Your brief stare returned to the picture upon the holopad.

That's very interesting...

"Luna..." both gazed at you as your voice interrupted their hushed whispers. "Would you like to take the drink into my room?"

Leia's eyes lit up, "really?"

"Sure. My room is just behind the beaded curtain there." She quickly followed your pointed finger to the arch way of beaded curtains, near the TV screen in front of the couch. "There's cute plushies for you to play with-"

"Thank you, but that's not necessary."

You waved a hand at Obi-Wan, while handing Leia the mug. "Nonsense. Haja might take a while to come back, I'm sure the little one would appreciate a nap."

"Thank you." Leia accidently allowed her eagerness to slip into her tone. Flashing you a warm smile, before quickly but carefully skipping into your room...

Your eyes met Obi-Wan's studious stare, feeling his gaze wander over your figure. Trying to read your body language and what was hidden behind your smile.

"You're welcome to make yourself at home too." You gestured at the couch, before slowly retreating back into the kitchen. His eyes watched you with each and every step, as he carefully reached his lightsaber.

"Don't think I quite catched your name." You heard the courteous tone lining his voice.

"Y/N..." you briefly responded, smiling to yourself as you caught a glimpse of the Jedi's weapon. "And what was yours again?... Farmer from Tawl..."

"Ben..."

You silently nodded, noticing Obi-Wan's widen slightly as you picked up the holopad. "Strange you'd say that cause..." you showed the Jedi the hologram of his picture, along with the bounty offered. "Because according to this, you're Obi-Wan Kenobi..."

He immediately took a defencive stance, tossing his cloak over his shoulders and reaching for his holstered weapon.

"You must of pissed off somebody to have this amount of credits looming over your head."

"I do not wish to harm you..." his voice trailed off into silence. Raising an eyebrow at your chuckles.

"I'm not interested in turning you over, Jedi. Nor do I have any wishes to orphan a child-whom I'm assuming isn't yours."

"I doubt the money is of no interest to you."

Your silent nod confirmed his disbelief, "oh trust me. The amount of credits they're offering you is very tempting. That amount of money would set me up for life- and get me out of this shit hole of a city."

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side, "then... why don't you?"

You flashed him an unamused expression, "I'll admit to the temptation of money, but I'm no idiot." A sigh left you as you placed the holopad down, "my guess... whomever placed that bounty is powerful and pissed off. The chances of me actually getting that money is very slim."

A sly smile returned to you as you leisurely sat on a stool, beside the breakfast nook in the kitchen. Casually leaning back onto your elbows upon the counter, watching Obi-Wan slowly relax into a standing stance with his arms crossed.

"But I also do see the opportunity presenting itself..." your confident tone placed Obi-Wan at a slight unease.

You cocked your head to the side, watching Obi-Wan focus on you a little more.

"You will allow me and the child to leave." His voice had some strange tone- almost like monotone. "And you won't speak of this to anyone."

With a small wave of his hand, you felt very weak vibrations tickle your temples as his voice repeated the same sentence.

"A Jedi mind trick? C'mon you gotta do better than that." Obi-Wan stepped back slightly, as your voice broke his focus. "Besides I've already told you I'm not interesting in orphaning a child. Not everyone in this Hell hole lacks a moral compass."

Obi-Wan slowly stroked his reddish beard, "so... what do you want?"

You leaned forward, "I'm a simple woman. All I ask is a moment of your time- a mare hour. "

He studied your sly smile, raising an eyebrow as he wasn't quite sure how to read your body language. "Well... I am in the middle of something. What was you hoping to achieve within this hour?"

You opened your mouth, but quickly shut it before any words could form.

Perhaps a gentle, softer approach would be better... you thought while hesitating how to answer. He looks like he's been through alot...

"Let's just say... I would like to be in the company of a real man. My job... is to 'satisfy clients', but them returning the favour is very rare." Watching his whole body stiffen, and his hand stop stroking his beard. It was enough to know that nothing further needed to be said.

"And... if I don't?..." Obi-Wan questioned with a concerned tone.

"Then nothing happens." You simply responded with a shoulder shrug. "I would just settle for a kiss."

Obi-Wan begun to peace in front of the couch, "is... that all you demand?"

"That's all I ask." you corrected. "I demand nothing from you, Jedi. I won't ask more than you can give."

His eyes wandered up and down your figure.

She could of demanded anything, but a kiss?... Obi-Wan stroked his beard again. Perhaps I should just simply count my blessing and stop questioning...

"Alright..." a smile finally came to his lips, but his voice still held the uncertain tone. "I accept your request of a kiss."

Your heart fluttered as Obi-Wan approached you, after stood by the couch for one more awkward minute. You didn't really think he would actually accept your terms- let alone give it a thought.

Straightening your posture, as he approached you like an awkward teenager. Butterflies swirled around in your stomach, as his blue eyes look down at you. They shined with genuine kindness that nobody in this city has showed for a long time. His touch was light and hesitant, as his fingertips gently brushed up your arms, and caressed your shoulders.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, as you slightly spread your legs a little more. Allowing Obi-Wan to pull you closer, your hands instinctively reached up for his neck. Playing with the collar of his brown robes, while your free hand snaked into his ginger locks.

A low hum bubbled in his throat, as he gently leaned his head back into the soft massaging of your fingertips, upon the back of his neck. A sweet smile came to your lips as you carefully positioned yourself on the edge of the stool. Gently closing your legs around his waist, as you both leaned into one another.

Eyes closed. Lips softly touching- delicate kisses held the moment. Your fingertips brushing against the nape of his neck, while Obi-Wan's hand slipped down your back. His fingers caressing your spine, causing a warmth to build up within your core.

A gasp left you as his lips moved from yours and softly trailed down your neck. Your hand clutching onto the collar of his robes, as Obi-Wan left love bites upon your skin. Breathless sighs escaped your voice, as the feeling of him suckling upon your neck. Along with a small yelp of surprise as Obi-Wan grabbed your behind, lifting you off the stool and onto the kitchen countertop.

The cool marble chilling your skin through your undergarments, provided temporarily relief from the heat between your legs.

"Kenobi..."

Losing himself within your embrace, Obi-Wan's lips returned to yours. Giving you a deep passionate kiss causing you to moan into his lips, as his tongue explored your mouth. Butterflies messed with your stomach, as his hands caressed your thighs. Feeling him squeeze you every so often, whenever his hips attempted to press closer to yours.

The warmth within Obi-Wan's core distracted his thoughts. H-Her touch... Her taste...

The murmurs of your breath uttering his name made his heart flutter. Your tongue exploring his mouth, as well as twisting and curling around his own, caused his body to slowly lose against the urge of temptation.

Parting from your lips, Obi-Wan briefly gazed at you. Taking in your flushed features and heavy gasps. Biting his lip as your shined with a plea for more. His wandering gaze reading your body- legs fully spread for him, your back slightly leaning back as you took in the sight of him too.

His hair was slightly messed up due to your touch. Although his beard somewhat hid his flushed features, your eyes caught his heavy breath. His robes loosened and now exposing a little of his chest, your fingertips running along the fainted scars.

Obi-Wan rested his forehead against yours, "if... if we do continue... I might not be able to resist much longer. A-And it's been... a while."

A sweet smile came to you, as a low chuckle escaped, "do you hear me complaining?"

Pressing your hips against hips and teasing his clothed member with a gentle grind, your smile widened as you watched him lean his head back. Eyes rolled shut and low moans leaving his mouth. His hands clutched upon your thighs.

Obi-Wan looked at you, returning your cheeky grin as he came close to you. Watching as your breath hitched, as his hand wandered to your close. His cock twitching once his fingertips pressed up against your soak undergarments, gently teasing your clit with a gentle rub.

Your body ached and yearned for him. Legs spread and relaxed, as your fingertips slowly ran down his chest, feeling every scar and mark as you pulled his robes open a little more.

Sealing your gasp with a passionate kiss. Sparks burst within your chest, as the sound of lace tore away from between your legs. Your muffled moans against Obi-Wan's lips, as his fingers entered you. Your hips rolled against his hand, feeling him plunged into you. Your legs quivered as he paid your g-spot some much needed attention.

Your body clenched around his glistening fingers. Fireworks erupted in Obi-Wan's core, as your hand reached for his hardened cock. His free hand wrapped around your waist, as your free hand intertwined with his hair again.

With his thumb pressed against your clit, moving smoothly as his fingers inside you caused you to come undone. Obi-Wan breathed heavily as your hand moved against his shaft. Your tongue explored his mouth, your body melting for him as his peace quickened.

Obi-Wan's muffled moans pressed against your lips. His hips bucking against your hand, as you gave his cock a little squeeze.

"Kenobi... Kenobi..."

"Fucking hell darling. You're so wet."

Your legs tightened around his waist. His fingers soaked and dripping in your essence, as a wave of pleasure begun to built within you. Obi-Wan's eyes rolled into the back of his head, as your peace matched his.

Every ache that Obi-Wan's body once felt was washed away. A pleasure that he hasn't felt for ages tugged within his core, as your walls tightened around his fingers. Your essence all over his hand and the kitchen top, your core tightening as your body was close to becoming undone.

"Sweet stars above!"

Your sweet spot became a glistening mess of over stimulation. More of your essence covered the kitchen top's surface, as your rocking hips grinded against Obi-Wan's hand. The muscles in your thighs tightened, and your core dispersed it's flame as the final wave of relief rode out of you.

Leaning forward and resting your forehead against Obi-Wan's shoulder. A deep sigh escaped you as his fingers left your entrance, and braced himself against the kitchen top. Giving in into the sensation of your hand rubbing his cock, gradually slow to a more forgiving pace. His warm cum covering your hand, as his body finally gave it's release.

Obi-Wan placed a gentle kiss upon your neck, "I hope... that satisfied you."

"Oh... you have no idea-"

'Knock' 'Knock'

A low groan left you, as you looked over Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I'm busy.!"

"It's Haja." Your eyes rolled as his voice came from behind the front door. "Let me in please."

Your leaned back, allowing Obi-Wan to put himself away and adjust his robes. "My goodness..."

"I know right?-"

Another knock from Haja, as Leia came out of your room cuddling a plushie. "Are we leaving now?"

Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel a deep relief, when he heard Leia's sleepy tone.

You looked over his shoulder with a smile, "yeah little one... it's time to go now."

Another knock came from Haja, but this time harder. "We really need to go my friends!"

Obi-Wan looked up at you with a warm smile. "Thank you..."

"Shouldn't it be me thanking you?"

A small chuckle left his lips, "for what? That was just me... relieving your stress."

"Bullshit... I wanna feel the full extent of you next time, Jedi..."

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