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vampiresuns · 2 years

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🍋🍋 Firefly | Tamryn x Anatole

1.2k words. In which Tamryn and Anatole are in love.

Tamryn belongs to @valhallanrose my beloved; this piece features Emma’s worldbuilding region of Lulia, too.

CW: Lemon/18+ content, minors DNI. Anal fingering, penetration, me being an inexcusable sap and Tamryn and Anatole being disgustingly in love with each other.

We write trans people here, so those who do not show an appropriate respect, will be blocked.

The night was warm for the coast but not warm enough to forgive bare feet jumping from the floorboards to the bed, and the body that made its way underneath them. The single candle by the bed, but far enough that it was somewhat safe, illuminated Tamryn like it was a big firefly on the master bedroom’s wall.

He made room for Anatole as he settled in his arms, his cold feet against his calf. Tamryn kissed his forehead.

“Husband, boy-toy, personal furnace—”

“Yes, you’re very multifunctional.”

Tamryn felt the brush of Anatole’s soft lips against his chest when he smiled. His hands moved along his sides, Anatole’s tender touch brushing along the edge of Tam’s nipples, then to the side, until they settled on his back. He kissed his collarbone, a string of tender kisses as he warmed up between his arms, body heat, blankets and affection making him melt away.

He looked up at Tamryn, watching his face in the low light of the candle, as the sound of the Lulian sea came in through the window.

Tamryn had gotten their cottage, their sanctuary, as a wedding gift for Anatole. The sneaky, generous bastard had kept the paperwork at Zelda’s place, along with the Honeypot’s accountability books, so Anatole wouldn’t see them. It had worked so well, Tamryn had brought him to the run down property and asked questions about the decor and repairs it should undergo, with Anatole being none the wiser.

Bit by bit, Tamryn (with his unknowing help) had made it the perfect place for two: their bedroom, the sea, two guest rooms, a sun room, Anatole’s office and Tamryn’s studio. A bubble, suspended in time and obligation just for them. A place of golden mornings, and purple sunsets, his husband’s lips on his own and skin against skin.

“Have I ever told you I love you, husband?”

“Yes, every day, husband.”

“Well, just in case, for it bears repeating.”

Anatole gently guided Tamryn to lie on his back so he could lean over him, kissing every bit of available skin as he whispered ‘I love you’s with each kiss. Tam tried to say it back, but he was met with his husband’s index finger against his lips.

“I know you do,” he said, smiling audibly, and just enough of that honey-like, weather-discussing, cockiness-at-the-edges tone that brought Tamryn to his knees every time. “But don’t interrupt me.”

“Should I keep completely quiet then?”

“Oh course not, sweetheart, you sound too pretty when you’re flustered, and half the point of loving you as much as I do is indulging in you.”

Indulging in him. Tamryn always thought Anatole had great ideas, but under the candlelight next to their bed, it seemed a better idea than most, perhaps the best idea. One he would give himself into, allowing his husband to guide him and tell him what to do, undoing himself for him with every kiss and every touch. Anatole left no corner of his skin forgotten, either with kisses or a gentle massage, rubbing his back with tenderness, leaning his weight against Tamryn.

Anatole had instructed him to lie on his back so he did, a slight shiver as he felt each kiss going down his spine and over the small of his back. He felt his teeth nip one of his asscheeks, a surprised yelp mixed with something else that made Anatole smile.

“Can I?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

His eagerness won him praise, it had always had, as he saw no reason to hide it after Anatole and him had talked about it for the first time, years ago. Besides, he knew his husband liked it, and he liked how Anatole teased him about it, a little reminder that he was wrapped around Anatole’s finger. Perhaps the same lube slicked finger that was being pushed inside him as Anatole half-laid on top of him, as closer as he could without sacrificing manoeuvrability. Yes, that finger. Or the second one he added, or the third, in time; or all of them, or all of Anatole.

That sounded more accurate.

He pouted when Anatole moved away, throwing what he hoped were puppy eyes at him when he turned him over onto his back again. Anatole bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing. It was futile. Wrapping one of his arms around Tamryn’s leg he leaned forward to kiss his pout, over and over again.

“You’re ridiculous, I’m so in love with you.”

“You spoiled me, Solnishko.”

“In that case, sweetheart, you should know I’m about to spoil you rotten beyond repair.”

He kissed him again, teasing his lower lip before he moved away to adjust his strap in place, adding more lube after he settled between Tamryn’s legs. Tam himself threw them around his waist, wanting to keep Anatole as close as he could; he obliged him by leaning forward as he slowly went in, searching for his hands as he gave Tamryn time to adjust. He locked their fingers together and began moving slowly. Anatole kept the pace slow but his thrust deep, his body moving against Tamryn’s as he took in his face. He used their linked hands as leverage to lean down and kiss him, lips brushing against his nipples, as Tamryn pushed Anatole closer with his legs.

Tamryn was lost in the moment: fingers squeezing against Anatole’s, curling toes and back curving, so he could lift his hips and bring his husband closer. His skin flushed and warm, he could feel the beads of sweat in some parts of their body, lips half opened in a constant string of moans and begging. Although ‘begging’ was too elaborate, he was mostly just saying ‘please’ when he felt like talking.

It was just them and the Lulian sea in the background. Just them, skin to skin, Anatole’s forehead pressed over Tamryn’s heart as he fucked him — ‘fucking as love-making’ he had called it once, still thinking he was right about calling it that. Want and affection intertwined, lust-oozing tenderness, like the juice of a fruit one dug their fingers into, or syrup that poured off your lips as you bit into it. Heavy and plump, sweet and exquisite as it could be.

Anatole lived for making Tamryn unfold, and he was nowhere near done with him. His good boy, his beautiful husband. Tamryn came, cum spilling between them, warm on both of their skins. Anatole did not stop moving, and Tam begged him to keep going anywhere — the candle still burned, there was still night to be had, and he wanted him and only him, like a constant itch that was only scratched when Anatole’s deft hands undressed him and undid him, when his voice told him what to do and where did he want him. A drop of sweat from Anatole’s forehead fell on Tamryn’s chest as he begged him to keep going still, and once again he could feel his husband’s smile; this time through a huff of air. Yet, when he spoke, he felt him closer, his tone cocky and flirtatious, but still pouring over with a love that knew and let itself be known, a collection, a journey, a choice. A grounding force, as a little saucy compliment to their sex-drives.

In that voice he told Tamryn not to worry, because he had no plans to be done with him still.

#jemmaverse #my writing #the arcana lemon #lemon #tamryn #aelius anatole #anatole: venus as a boy #tamnana

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vampiresuns · 3 years

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Of Birthdays and Broken Music Boxes | For Valhallanrose

✴︎ OF BIRTHDAYS AND BROKEN MUSIC BOXES ✴︎

1.2k words. In which it’s Tamryn’s birthday and Anatole asks him out.

Tamryn, whose birthday is today, belongs to @valhallanrose, as does his sister Zelda. Happy birthday to the boy and merry jemmaverse to us.

There’s some background mentions of Zelparo. Only potential cw is mentions of height.

The song from the music box is supposed to be Tchaikovsky’s Valse Sentimentale, Op. 5, n. 6.

“You do understand Tamryn is the one who’s blind, right?”

Anatole put down his cup of coffee a little too loudly. “What is that supposed to even mean, Zelda?”

“Means I’m the one who has to sit here and suffer while you do goo-goo eyes at him while he does that fucking soliloquy,” Zelda raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of tea with an abnormal amount of judgement in the action. “He’s oblivious but I’m sure not.”

“I’m just excited to meet people who are passionate about things they like! Everyone’s dramatic in my family, I just think it’s endearing!”

What he didn’t say was that Tamryn was funny, in his opinion. He was funny, interesting, he liked how he concentrated when he fixed something, and while Magnus freaked him out, the rise in his pulse wasn’t just because there was an entire peregrine falcon in his vicinity. It was also out of the way Tamryn put his hand on his shoulder and assured him it was alright.

He was awkwardly charming, making Anatole smile to himself, in spite of himself. Though he kept insisting he didn’t make goo-goo eyes and that Zelda was no better, given how things have gone down with Amparo.

Zelda had moved onto listening to the origins of his self-proclaimed ‘rehabilitation from considering his friends’ older brothers’. An arbitrary rule, he was aware, but he was in the mood to make excuses and be thankful Tamryn was not around. Or so he thought. He was proved wrong by him walking into the kitchen shirtless, without realising Zelda and himself were talking about him.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

The older he got, the older playing cat-and-mouse with his own feelings got. Not only has he gotten better at dealing with vulnerability with age and time, but he’s also bloomed into his self. As someone who cannot help being himself, and as someone who did not do things half-way, Anatole eventually grew tired of his own indecision and his own anxieties.

Of course, he couldn’t just will them away, but he supposed branching out and just trying to test the waters couldn’t be that bad. Despite everything, he was sure of himself and he knew he had every right to be. He’s competent, intelligent, well-read, funny, a bit weird but nothing which didn’t add to the charm, passionate, dedicated, a good friend, stubborn beyond recognition, but wasn’t that the nature of both water and the Sun? He’ll be fine; whatever gut churning feeling which said otherwise could go take a walk.

If he listened to those every time they decided to rear their heads he’d be nowhere. Is he nowhere? No. He’s come a long way, and he’d go even beyond just because he could. Trust Anatole to find something which acted as a way to tell him that perhaps he can’t do something for his spite to drive him to do that thing twice.

It’s always been a little harder for him when he discovered himself falling into someone in time, for who they were. He’s been at this same place before, however, so he thought he had learnt a thing or two about it.

Anatole knew Tamryn’s birthday would be soon enough. A birthday present was essential. Wanting to give him a gift with some thought behind it, he separated different blocks of time, on different days, so he’d have enough time to scavenge around for a gift.

The lucky choice came from a music box store in Centre City. He had been looking for a kit to ensemble a music box, and if that failed, he’d ask Nadia with help to pick the pieces to do the same with a clock. Or a pocket watch, whichever was easier to get by as the last day of February and the first of March came by.

The store had had no such kits, but it did have a broken music box which the owner had imported from a city on the northern side of the Clouded Mountains.

“It came broken, and I haven’t gotten around to do the repairs, Consul. I apologise.”

Anatole took the box in his hands. With his thumb he followed the hand-painted patterns on its front. “Which song does it play?”

The purveyor told him, a light heat coming to Anatole’s cheeks upon discovering it was one of his favourites. A ¾ time signature slow piece from a composer from a Country beyond the Strait of Seals.

“Lucky me,” Anatole said, “are the pieces to fix it hard to come by?”

“No, at all. Despite how far away the little box comes, it doesn’t use very unorthodox methods — and, of course, needless to say I am more than willing to fix it for you, Consul Rad—“

“Oh, please. You are very generous, my friend, but you needn’t. I want it broken. It’s a gift for someone who likes to tinker around and repair things. It would have all the more meaning.”

“I didn’t know you had tinkering fans in your family.”

Anatole let the purveyor be wrong.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

He wrapped the gift himself in Mulberry paper. The bow was made with velvet ribbon and had a couple of loops. He did a second bow with an organza ribbon — Tamryn wasn’t going to be able to see it, but he would be able to touch it.

The music box itself did not have any texture. The paint had been polished and lacquered over it, but Anatole didn’t mind having to describe it for Tamryn. Inside the box, he had located a pouch with the missing pieces. The music box shop owner had provided them for him.

As he described it for Tamryn, told him where it came from, the music it was supposed to play and that it was broken, Anatole took in his face and the ways his hands moved over it. His joyful expression, the way his lips curved. His hitched breath and the amazement as he explored his gift.

“The music piece is one of my favourites. I don’t have anything to play it for you, but I picked it because I would want to listen to it, if you’d want to… You can change the part that plays music for another one of course—“

Tamryn replied on impulse. “I could literally kiss you right now.”

Anatole choked on air.

“Would you prefer a no-kissing thank you?” He shifted his weight between his feet.

“Actually… and I say this outside of the context of this gift and your birthday. Do you want to go on a date with me, Tamryn?”

He turned to him, mouth slightly ajar. Silence settled for long seconds between them. When the shoe didn’t drop, Tamryn said:

“Wait, seriously? Why?”

Anatole would ease into finding his surprise funny if he wasn’t so nervous himself.

“Should I take that as a no?”

“No, no!” Tamryn said, leaving the music box aside. “I respect your decision and I wholeheartedly accept, but are you sure?”

“Yes— which is why I asked. Are you about saying yes?”

“I just don’t get it.”

“Why not?” Anatole asked with a smile in his voice. Tamryn was very cute when he flustered, and his enthusiasm had placated some of his nerves.

“I’m just always confused about why would anyone ask me out, let alone someone as interesting as you.”

Silence fell between them again. Anatole let out a soft ‘oh’, followed by a heartfelt, bubbling laugh.

“Tamryn, lean down a bit.”

He obliged. Anatole tiptoed to kiss his cheek, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Happy birthday. Are you free next Friday? Around 5-ish? I think I have an idea.”

#the arcana #the arcana oc #oc x oc #my writing #aelius anatole #tamryn #emma's ocs #zelda hollyheart #background zelparo #sun bastards

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