REMI
the bastion
Darling, you never could scare me
Set me ablaze like you do
Set me ablaze like you do
It may not be the first time he’s been bracketed between four of Ronin’s hands, but gods, it still undoes him. Every time. By the time the Knight is tugging him down into the daisies, Remi’s knees are already giving out, buckling beneath the sheer weight of the heat roiling low in his belly and springboarding up through his spine, pressure curling in tighter and tighter coils that leave no room for breath, let alone thought.
Clothes fall away like petals—no ceremony, just need—and soon enough he’s draped over his husband, his body pressed along Ronin’s with a tremble that betrays just how far gone he already is. One arm braces near Ronin’s head, his palm sinking deep into the flowers as if the earth might help anchor him. The other slides down the Knight’s body, a smooth and purposeful trail that ends at the curve of his thigh, where Remi’s fingers wrap firm and possessive around him.
He kisses Ronin like he means to consume the last breath from his lungs; slow and hungry, tinged with the quiet desperation of knowing how badly he wants this and how little control he has over it. And then, as his hips settle between the other man’s, he shifts, reaches, lifts Ronin’s leg just slightly—just enough to fit, and press, and align—"I had every intention," he murmurs against Ronin’s mouth, his voice low and shaking, "of dragging this out—" And then he’s shaking his head, helpless with the depth of it all, the need, the bond, the way everything feels so alive and riotous in his skin. "But gods, do I want you."
Clothes fall away like petals—no ceremony, just need—and soon enough he’s draped over his husband, his body pressed along Ronin’s with a tremble that betrays just how far gone he already is. One arm braces near Ronin’s head, his palm sinking deep into the flowers as if the earth might help anchor him. The other slides down the Knight’s body, a smooth and purposeful trail that ends at the curve of his thigh, where Remi’s fingers wrap firm and possessive around him.
He kisses Ronin like he means to consume the last breath from his lungs; slow and hungry, tinged with the quiet desperation of knowing how badly he wants this and how little control he has over it. And then, as his hips settle between the other man’s, he shifts, reaches, lifts Ronin’s leg just slightly—just enough to fit, and press, and align—"I had every intention," he murmurs against Ronin’s mouth, his voice low and shaking, "of dragging this out—" And then he’s shaking his head, helpless with the depth of it all, the need, the bond, the way everything feels so alive and riotous in his skin. "But gods, do I want you."
I'd walk over coals in my bare feet
If that gets me closer to you
If that gets me closer to you
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
