ϟleep tomorrow but tonight go crazy ❤

“I’m sure you knew I was there,” you say softly, earning a displeased grunt that has you cracking a small smile at his expense. “I was on time, not my fault you were running late.”

A shaky breath leaves him, you feel his shoulders stutter in their breath against your body. You have to admit that in your years watching this man you currently were holding in your arms, not once had you considered that Kelsier was capable of crying. He had emotions like everyone else, you’d seen him angry and elated and what you thought was every emotion in between, but not once had you ever seen him cry. If asked you would maintain that you’d never seen him cry, if only to protect the image of the man you’d grown up so close to yet so far away from. The Kelsier you grew up knowing was the image of what you’re sure every skaa in Luthdael wished they could be, jovial with great care for the world around him but little care for the consequences of his actions so long as some noble’s pockets were feeling lighter. The Kelsier you were getting acquainted with wore the mask of the old Kelsier, but the man who lost almost everything to the Lord Ruler was slipping through the mask with every day that went by.

And somehow you were the only one who seemed to notice when the smirk faltered, fading into something sadder and less inviting. The only one to notice that his default had gradually shifted into something that you were quickly growing more familiar with — someone who was trying to reclaim themselves in a world where he had already lost everything.

“How can I help, Kelsier?”

“You never call me Kelsier anymore, so start there.”

You sigh, a smile tugging at your lips as his fingers tug at your blouse to pull it from your trousers. His fingers graze against your skin made available, blunt fingernails gently scratching at your back as he tries to pull you closer. “Aren’t I your Kell? Your silly man? Your mentor in life, allomancy, and romance?”

“The last one is a stretch,” you counter, kissing the top of his head as he huffs. “Maybe mentor in allomancy, the rest remains to be seen.”

“Speaking of allomancy, your steel pushing has gotten sloppy.”

That was quite the statement to make as he’s kissing your neck, and your fingers that were in his hair take hold to pull him off your skin so you could look him in the eye. You choose to ignore the way he moans and the lust filled gaze that felt like it was too familiar to you; the full lips that formed a perfect pout at being pulled from his distraction of the evening inviting you in, but you had to hold firm. You couldn’t let him win, even if you wanted him to smile.

“Hard to practice when you’re carrying me around everywhere, almost like you’re sabotaging me.”

“I would never. I just see a pretty girl in need and have to have her in my arms to get her to her destination. Can you blame me?”

“When you call me sloppy? Yeah I can blame you easily.”

“That’s not quite what I meant.”

“But it’s what you said, Kelsier.”

Any warm feelings of fondness you might’ve been feeling have been replaced with annoyance, your fingers withdrawing from his hair and your arms crossing over your chest when his fingers grip your hips to keep you from moving. You both know that if you had your way, you’d be on the other side of the room by now if not gone completely and on your way to do anything that wasn’t related to the man beneath you — and he clearly did not want that.

“I don’t have it in me to argue with you today.”

“So apologize for being rude and we can move on.”

“I’m speaking out of concern, which I would argue isn’t rude at all.”

“For someone who doesn’t want an argument you are choosing a horrible hill to die on.”

“You’re very cute when you’re upset with me, it’s difficult to resist. But I will apologize, only because I’ve upset you with my concerns and that was never my intention.”

It’s disgustingly backhanded, but you can accept that he’s acknowledging your upset this time. Better than the last that ended up with you avoiding him for multiple days until he hunted you down in the city to force you to talk to him. And you feel yourself starting to calm down, his cheek coming to rest against your chest once more as his fingers massage into your skin. You know exactly what he’s doing, because if he wasn’t using his allomancy he wouldn’t be so comfortable reinitiating the moment that he’d ruined.

“Stop soothing me.”

“Caught again.” He kisses your collarbone, those lips trailing up the column of your neck until they’re hovering just over yours with his breaths tangling with yours in the miniscule space left between you. “I just like to help you calm down after riling you up. It’s a service to my dear lady.”

You’d scoff if he wasn’t kissing you already, but your further arguments are muted by his hungry kiss and what comes out instead are soft gasps as his hands travel your skin beneath your shirt. Your hands cradle his face, softer palms scratched by the stubble growing along his jawline serving as a reminder that he was here, just as alive as you were.

“This wasn’t why I wanted to see you,” he murmurs as you part, a dazed grin on his face as you stare at him. “But I’m not complaining about how this turned out.”

“What did you want?”

“Wanted you to come out with me tonight. I need to do some scouting and want your eyes as well.”

“You just want to get me alone.”

“I don’t need to make up a job for that.” He gestures to your current position, smiling as you shake your head at him. “But think about it. We have a nice meal, go out into the mists and see what there is to see, then come back and make beautiful love until dawn.”

“Let’s see if you can make it to dinner without doing something to make me mad.”

“Quite the challenge, but I’m up for it.”

Of course he was, you knew Kelsier would never shy away from anything that so much as resembled a challenge. But you still can’t help yourself, his shaky breaths into your chest haunting you, and your thumbs stroke his cheeks as you ask: “You’re okay, Kell?”

The smile falters, and you know that he knows he’s been caught when he lets his shoulders slump ever so slightly. But he recovers, turning his head into one of your palms and letting his lips linger against your skin as his eyes close.

He had never met a vampire; he didn't know if he could trust you. He was told as Were that vampires are mortal enemies. However, you were alone. You tried to pull him into a thrall, but you were too weak. In his Were form, he pulled you by your ankle, dragging you through the forest floor. Your hair was covered in leaves and dirt, but it didn't matter. He brought you to a shed, leaving you for dead- or so you thought.

Unable to feed for days, you passed out from exhaustion. When you awakened, there was a bag of blood on your side, but there was no Were in front of you. You were met with a man with the most beautiful, cerulean eyes. They were disarming, and the threads of fate were slowly forming. You were alone for centuries, and for the first time in your life, you felt that someone was waiting for you.

He was suspicious of your motives at first; how could a vampire just randomly wander into his territory? You were wandering through the Earth on your own, just biding your time through this eternal existence. He interrogated you nightly, asking where you came from and who you were affiliated with. You met him with disdain, causing your own heartache.

"I don't have to answer anything to you."

"You do." He growled. "I need to know what business you have here."

"None. Thank you for the food, but I can go on my way."

"No, it's too dangerous."

"How do you know?"

He didn't understand the hesitation about why he couldn't let you go, but he wanted to keep you here. He should've taken you to his house, where he could keep you safe from the dangers of the world. He knew all about them; he was an outcast, but he became useful. He was trusted; he could look after you.

You attempted to leave him once, and it put you in mortal danger with an enemy pack. Through the bloodshed, he kept you safe. He shifted back, walking away with a scratch that ached to be tasted. When you fought your instincts, he softly said, "Go ahead." This act of tasting his blood became addicting, but you tried to control yourself. A moment of savouring each other became much more; your bodies urged you to go further.

He took you right there on the ground. He ripped your clothing apart, licking and biting every part of you. When your bodies connected, you knew you couldn't be apart from him ever again. He realized then that he was searching for you as well; he chased his release as he caressed the hills of your body, craving to mark you as his. When his peak climbed, he asked you in the most gentle way possible if you were ready. You nodded.

"You have to say it." His voice was raspy, aching with need.

"I'm ready."

"Once I do this, I can't go back."

"I'm ready. I've tasted you, remember?" Breathless.

You felt his knot swell right there. It burned at first, but it became comfortable; welcoming. He stayed in there, unable to move. He pressed his lips to yours, consuming your cries and whines. Your nails scratched his back as he slowly began to thrust inside of you. He began to bleed, but he assured you that it was alright. He kissed your throat, finding a nestle in between your breasts.

"Right there, please..."

"You sound cute when you beg."

"I hate you."

"No, darling. I think far from it."

He kissed you again, hungrier for you. His tongue traced your lower lip as it explored further into your mouth. You cried again, but no one would hear you. You hungered for more, but you didn't want to be greedy. Although he knew exactly what you were looking for.

"Do it."

"Do what?"

"Take a bite. It's alright."

Without a qualm, you went ahead and bit on the right side of his neck. The metal tang was delicious, with a tinge of spice. He was delicious in every aspect of the word.

"Now are you ready?"

"For what?" Breathless, overjoyed with the one you've been looking for.

"I'm going to mark you. You'll be mine."

"I've always been yours."

His canines sank into your cold flesh. If you had a heartbeat, it'd be racing, but the thrill of him making you his is more than enough. With a slight tilt, you were both cuddling into each other as he remained inside you. Loid Twilight loved how you felt against his warm touch; it was refreshing.

It began to rain, but neither of you moved. Instead, you continued to savour each other, your palates becoming familiar with one another. You knew that you'd always be able to find him, and he'd always be able to find you.

You and Loid spent hours making love before the sun rose. By the time the rain stopped, it was nearly sunrise. As you both rose from the ground, you were covered in marks, but ever the gentleman, he carried you back to his home.

There was a room exclusively without windows, a perfect resting place. He would always sleep outside your room, keeping you safe from whatever and whoever.

"I don't know...." You fiddle with the end of the duvet and chew on your lip - a telltale sign that to him means you want something but you want to be told it's okay to want. (Something he's been through so many times with you)

"Come on angel, it'll be fun, you'll see."

And you acquiesce, because of course you do. Because you could fall straight into his arms and know he'd catch you. He's also pretty persuasive. A fact you'd never let him know obviously.

So you reach out a hand, tentative, gentle and hesitant at first, fingers splayed and outstretched.

Only to meet an impenetrable and heavy wall an inch from his chest. You push, try to dig your fingers in, claw it with your nails, press against the heavy, indomitable wall. And yet you move no closer. If anything you think it presses you away from him the harder you push.

"see what I mean?" He says, a hint of mirth, a pride in his voice that doesn't go unnoticed.

"That's so strange. It's like I can't move any closer to you. What is it?"

He leans in, lips brushing your ear, voice curling against your skin. "That angel, is infinity." He leans back. "The details are boring but all you need to know is, nothing could ever get close to me-" your hand suddenly lurches and meets the warm plane of his chest. Soft and toned and familiar. "Unless i let it."

And you press your palm into his shirt, feel the familiar and warm heartbeat, the steady rhythmic thrum. "But I've always been able to touch you. So how does that work?"

And it comes to you suddenly, with a smirk in his eye that tells him you know already.

He's always let you.

He's always kept it off for you .

"Ah," you say, a flame licking at your cheeks as your hand moves upwards, cups the side of his neck and then his cheek. Bright and vivid blue eyes crinkle at the corners when he tilts his head as you stroke his cheek. Bare and vulnerable and knowing.

A beauty that is infinite and limitless and terrifying.