#i need to witness this man have his breath taken away as he watches his girlfriend descend a staircase in slow mo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinnaminsuga · 2 months

Text

𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 - sub!hyunjin x sub!reader x dom!chan

wc: 2,804

cw: hyunjin is a slut, so is the reader, chan likes it that way. SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: while shooting the red lights mv chan noticed something about hyunjin and now he's got a theory he wants to test, he just needs your help.

a/n: was literally plagued with visions of overstimulating hyunjin and making him cry soooo this is what i ended up with. oops. also if there are any spelling errors pls don't tell me bc ive read this trash so many times trying to work it all out and if i have to re-read it again i might go blind.

sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), bondage, threesome, some gay shit, breeding, blowjobs, lingerie, deepthroating, general toughness, waxing poetic about hyunjins beautiful face. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.

hwang hyunjin is beautiful. its a well documented fact, no ifs ands or buts about it. he has the kind of face ancient civilizations would have gone to war for. old world dynasties would have been reduced to rubble over a face like his. hwang hyunjin is the kind of beautiful where it almost hurts to look at him. it makes you question your belief in a higher power because, how could there possibly be any room for debate on if there is a God when there is simply no other reasonable explanation for how a devine creature like him came to exist on this earth? so with all that being said, there's no way he could get any more beautiful. or so you thought.

it had always been your assumption that there was no possible way he could look any more stunning than he naturally does; but your mind was changed the minute you saw the lithe expanses of his smooth milky skin held captive by blood red ropes. you felt an astounding amount of pride as your eyes bore witness to his soft flesh being pulled tight by the coarse material; the blood under his skin rushing to the surface where the ropes were knotted artfully over his collarbone, across his abdomen, splayed over his pelvis, looped around his upper thighs and finally circling the base of his dick. and you had worked hard to make sure the knots around his wrists and ankles were comfortable yet sturdy before attaching them to each bedpost.

you had taken your instructions very seriously, as the man giving them to you from edge of the bed, wouldn't allow any of this to continue if either of you were to disobey his direct orders, and dear god you would rather die than see this endeavor be cut short.

you admired your handiwork a bit more before the rumbling of a particular voice hit your ears.

“how do you feel baby? is this what you wanted? y/n did a good job huh? you look so pretty.” chan spoke softly to hyunjin, absentmindedly petting his head. hyunjin looked up at his leader and nodded, unsure if he could speak without whining as the ropes pulled across his body with every move.

“yeah i knew you'd like this. the whole time we were shooting “red lights” i saw you ya know? the way your breathing got shallow when the staff chained you up. the way your eyes glazed over when they gave you instructions to pull against your restraints. god, standing above you on that bed, watching you writhe below me was a sight to see. my good boy just wanted to be tied up and used huh?” chan said to him, his finger hooked under hyunjin's chin forcing his head up to look him in the eyes. a whimper forced its way out of him as his hips instinctually bucked and the the sensation of the ropes took over.

you couldn't drag your eyes away from his lower body. the sharp angle of his hipbones jutting up to the ceiling as his cock drooled uncontrollably, the fluid flowing from his tip dribbling down to darken the rope wrapped snugly around the base of him. without even thinking you reached out and wrapped your hand around his shaft, you were just so overwhelmed with the desire to touch him. the feeling was unexpected and the sound that punched its way out of hyunjin's chest was glorious. his body attempted to curl in on itself but the ropes kept him firmly in place. you watched the range of emotions flicker over his face in rapid succession; surprise at your initial touch, pleasure from finally being granted a little stimulation, sensitivity from being denied his pleasure for so long, shock when he remembered the restraints keeping him spread open, frustration at not being able to move, and finally acceptance as he gave in to the languid stroking you were doing. he continued to toss as the pleasure took over, thrashing wildly against the mattress and moaning into the pillow.

hyunjin's noises were reduced to whimpers as chan’s hand squeezed around his jaw, directing hyunjin to look him in the eyes. “shhh baby boy, y/n is gonna make you feel good okay? you'll let her do that, won’t you? you'll lay there and take what i let her give you, understood? words please, jinnie.” chan cooed. “yes daddy. i'll be good for you, for her too i promise. i'll be your perfect boy just like always, i promise, please! god just please keep touching me!” hyunjin choked out, making chan grin. he leapt up from where he was perched on the edge of the bed and rounded the corner until he was standing behind you. you repressed a shudder as chan’s hand slid up your back, tracing over your spine and occasionally tripping over the straps of the lingerie set you were wearing. his hand glided up into your hair with ease until his palm cradled the base of your skull, then suddenly he locked his fingers to grab your hair firmly by the roots and pulled you upright so your back was against his chest as he angled your head to the left exposing the expanse of your neck. the suddenness of his movements caused you to lose your grip on hyunjin’s dick and he cried out from the loss of contact, his hips frantically bucking into the air in a fruitless attempt to find friction.

chan hummed as his lips made contact with the skin of your neck and continued as he licked, nipped, and sucked at your flesh. he hooked his chin over your shoulder as his right hand charted a course down your abdomen to the apex of your thighs where the pads of his thick fingers rubbed over your damp slit. when you could finally manage to pry your lids open, you locked eyes with hyunjin. he was practically panting watching chan devour your throat and palm your pussy. “so pretty y/n, y’look so pretty. like a dream. want to paint you one day, just like that.” he whispered. hyunjin's words and gaze coupled with chan's wandering hands and skilled mouth were almost enough to send you over the edge.

“now here’s what's next my loves. y/n, you're going to get on your knees, lean down on your elbows and suck hyunjin's pretty dick right into the back of your throat okay? i want you to take him as far as you can, and quickly. do not stop until i tell you to. not if he begs, not if he cries, not if he screams. got it?” you nodded as well as you could with his left hand still in your hair. chan released you and you quickly got into the position he had described, gently grabbing hold of hyunjin's cock. “i’m sorry jinnie, but you know i have to.” you quipped right before you took him into your mouth and as far into your throat as you could manage. the garbled noise that ripped its way out of hyunjin's throat threw you into over drive as you bobbed your head and sucked him like your life depended on it. he was groaning deeply and his limbs were flailing the best they could in his current predicament. his back arched up off the mattress so beautifully you wished chan would take a photo.

“fuck, fuck, FUCK. jesus chri- oh my god! y/n, sweetheart slow down- PLEASE! oh fuck i can- i can feel- fucking fuck. i can feel your throat squeezing me so tight!” hyunjin wailed throwing his head back, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as he grit his teeth.

suddenly chan’s hand made its way to your pussy again and you gasped around the thickness embedded in your throat causing hyunjin to hiss.

“crotchless panties angel? so proud of you. always so prepared for daddy huh? know just what i like.” chan muttered from behind you. you heard the telltale jingle of his belt being opened and the zipper being lowered on his jeans. he had already removed his shirt earlier so he was naked quickly, and he wasted no time before rubbing the head of his dick along your weeping folds.

“now i'm going to fuck you nice and deep the way you like and i want you to keep sucking my good boy okay?” chan said but before you could respond he shoved himself into you in one swift thrust. chan was not small in girth or length for that matter but the stretch you felt every time he fucked you open was delicious. you couldn't help but moan around the cock in your mouth which in turn caused hyunjin to scream at the unexpected vibration. chan’s laugh that followed was dark and proud, thrilled that he held so much power and that you both let him use it.

“fuuuuck sweet girl this cunt is always so fucking tight huh? doesn't matter how many times i fuck you or let someone else fuck you, you always snap right back. god i love being inside you.” chan growled as his hands gripped your hips and held you steady as he pummeled his way in and out of your slippery hole. the whole time he was fucking you, you were being forced onto hyunjin's cock as well, every moan muffled by the thickness battering your throat.

“hyunjin is y/n a good cocksucker? hmm? you think? you think she's better than you were?” chan taunted him as he drove himself inside you over and over again. “remember when we had our first one on one meeting? just me and you alone in the studio? i said 'hyunjin if you really are serious and want to stay in this group i need one thing from you’ do you remember that? i do.” you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn't see him. hyunjin groaned and mumbled what sounded like a yes. “i also remember how fast you sank to your knees and scrambled to try and open my belt. you thought i wanted you to suck me off to stay in the band. and you were so willing to give me whatever i wanted. all i was going to ask you for was your loyalty and your honesty in all things. but you offered up that pretty mouth quick as a bitch and who was i to say no?” chan laughed at the memory as he threw a foot up onto the bed to change the angle he was fucking into you from so he was now nailing your gspot on every thrust.

“y-yes i remember. ‘course i do. i knew w-what you were gonna ask me because felix told me beforehand what you were going to ask, what you asked a-all of them. i just- fuck yes keep sucking y/n im so close. i jus’ wanted you so bad i thought if i tried and y-you didn't want me back it would just be an easily brushed off m-misunderstanding.” hyunjin whined, his hands balled up into fists, knuckles white.

“y/n suck him dry. now.” chan ordered and you sucked harder pulling a squeal out of hyunjin. “go on sweet boy. go ahead and cum. you earned it.” chan encouraged as he delivered a heavy smack to your ass. your muffled yelp was the final straw and hyunjin came hard into your mouth, his body attempting to lurch off the bed. you swallowed everything down and pulled off of him, replacing your mouth with your hand. as chan continued to ram into you, you mirrored his thrusts with the fist wrapped tightly around hyunjin's still hard cock.

“stop stop stop please! god please i can- i can't take it! it's too sensitive please!” hyunjin cried. “yes you can baby. you can take it. trust me.” chan cooed. feeling bold you leaned forward once again and sucked hyunjin's tip harshly while lashing the tip of your tongue over his slit.

“FUCK! no no no no it's too m- too much. stop stop stop!” hyunjin continued to wail. he was begging you to relent but he also didn't use his safeword so you knew he didnt really want it to stop. the sound was like music to chan's ears and the rhythmic clenching of your cunt around him propelled him quickly toward his own orgasm.

“i'm gonna cum in you okay baby? gonna breed this pretty pussy, stuff it full of my cum. that what you want? yeah it is isn't it?” chan rambled and you moaned out a “yes please daddy” right before he exploded inside you. your hand around hyunjin never stopped moving and he was crying now. big fat tears rolling down his cheeks from the overstimulation.

chan pulled out of you and watched your hole flutter, pushing out his seed. he murmured a string of praises as he watched the glistening fluid drip out of you. you looked over your shoulder at him, jutting your lower lip out.

“daddy i didn't get to cum yet. can i?” you asked.

“go ahead baby. make yourself cum.” chan said with a wave of his hand and an evil grin etched on his face. you grinned right back before scrambling up hyunjin's body and straddling him.

“wh-what are you doing? oh...oh no. no no no. please it's so sensitive it's so so sensitive y/n i can't!” hyunjin hiccuped, tears still flowing. you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cheek, lapping up the briny liquid seeping from his eyes. then you whispered “oh jinnie, don't you want me to feel good too? i worked so hard after all.” you reached behind you and positioned his tip at your entrance before effortlessly sliding down onto him. you moaned as he filled you and he once again thrashed against the ropes wrapped around him. you started to ride him in earnest, aching for your own release at this point. the man beneath you was mumbling incoherently about how good your pussy feels and how badly he wants to come again. chan sauntered over and perched next to hyunjin again, reaching out to pet his head and pepper his face with kisses.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck i'm gonna cum!” you cried as you worked yourself over hyunjin’s dick and used one hand to furiously rub your clit.

“daddy shes squeezing me so hard i don't think i ca- can get out. can i cum inside?” hyunjin pleaded with chan. “of course you can baby, right sweetheart? you want jinnie’s cum inside you don't you?” you just nodded in response. “my girl loves to be creampied you never have to ask. just go ahead baby boy.” chan explained. you drove yourself down onto hyunjin twice more and then you were cumming, mouth dropping open as your inner walls milked him for all he was worth. hyunjin spasmed beneath you as he came and came and came inside you. he wasn't speaking anymore, just making these stunted little sounds as his body shook with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.

chan had begun to untie the ropes as you slowly lifted yourself off of hyunjin. you whispered praise to him as he has hummed, completely fucked out and boneless beneath you.

“shhh it's okay sweetheart. you did so good for us baby. we’re gonna put you to bed now okay?” chan murmured to the man shaking in the bed. hyunjin managed to croak out an “uh-huh” in response. you grabbed a bottle of lotion from nearby and began to work it into the reddened skin all over him where the ropes had been, while chan wiped down hyunjin's groin with a warm cloth. you hummed a tune you knew hyunjin loved and his eyes fluttered shut, a tiny smile making its way to his face.

after everything was put away and the room was right again, chan crawled into the bed to spoon hyunjin’s half asleep form while you crawled in the other side to press yourself to hyunjin's still somewhat heaving chest. you pulled the blanket up high and tucked yourself into his warm skin and he wound an arm around your waist. chan's hand rested on hyunjin's hip, squeezing the flesh there every so often.

being here felt so right, so natural, so easy. loving these two was as easy as breathing. you couldn't believe it had taken this long to get here but now that you had, you weren't letting them go. before your eyes fell closed you heard the sound of chan's lips kissing along hyunjin's shoulder before he whispered “rest now my loves. because i have big plans for you tomorrow.”

THE END

741 notes · View notes

kairiscorner · 8 months

Note

OKOK BUT

Jealous!Miguel stealing your attention only because you told Ben Reilly he has nice muscles 😭

You know that dude, when he's jealous, makes it clear that you only belong to his *wink wink*

AGHHHHHHH i live for jealous miggy for real

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

yeah, i'm... just a jealous guy, so what? — jealous!miguel o'hara x reader

miguel was at his wit's end, hearing you giggle as the blonde, buff-oon of a spider man was entertaining you with his muscles, that miguel was very certain that he had beat in every aspect possible. he didn't mean to brag–he honestly wouldn't care in a normal setting–but objectively speaking, his muscles and figure was far more superior than that of ben reilly's.

he respected ben, both as a spider man and a person, though he couldn't bear the thought of you–one of his only real friends and someone with a decent, functioning brain in the entire spider society–entertaining the blonde boy by giggling along, praising him, and running your fingers and hands over his biceps and muscles. ben dared not to show his true, flustered self as he kept 'accidentally' flexing at you, making you chuckle even more–annoying miguel even more, because... he should be the one making you all embarrassed, flustered, and giggly with his own much thicker biceps and muscles.

"it's just... so stupid." he muttered to himself as lyla chuckled. "gonna challenge ben to a flex off?" she sarcastically asked miguel, who–for a hot minute–ironically considered the notion, but ultimately decided against it with the shake of his head. "no, no need. i'll get over it." he said as a low grumble, which lyla raised her eyebrow at. "oh, will you, now?" she asked him with a hint of mockery, which made miguel snarl a little and sigh loudly. "you'll see." he declared with some spite in his tone.

he did not move on from it, not one bit actually.

it was driving miguel insane, because every moment he caught you that day to catch up and talk, he always caught you with ben–watching him entertain you yet again with him 'coincidentally' stretching and flexing those muscles he was so proud of but always played them off coolly when you happened to come by and... stare at him showing off.

this was it, this was the final straw–he had to prove to you once and for all just who you fold to, who makes you so flustered with a simple gaze your way with those piercing hazel (sometimes red) eyes of his–who made you want to have more and more of him and wouldn't be ashamed to get on your knees, or on all fours if he commanded you to, and beg for him to love you all evening into the early hours of the dawn. he had to show you who loved you, and who you loved endlessly.

when you entered miguel's office to report back to him on the statuses of some anomalies he needed word back on immediately. though when you entered the room, the atmosphere felt... entirely different now. you searched for miguel here and there since he wasn't there up on his platform, nor was he anywhere where the small pools of light touched the walls and floors of his office–he wasn't there, at least, not in front of you yet.

"you called, querida?" he asked you as he placed his larger palms on your smaller shoulders, feeling up your flesh gently and letting out low breaths as he got closet to you. your back felt his chiseled abdomen pressing against you, his pectoral muscles being pushed against your shoulders. you shuddered and felt your face get a little heated. you tried turning around to tell miguel you had the reports he was asking for, but it was a little hard to do with him pressing against you like this.

you finally turned around and pulled away from his grasp, but when you did... you were taken aback by the sight. he was completely shirtless, showing off his sculpted upper body, the curves and bulging of his arm muscles and built abdomen, and the only thing he was wearing was a flimsy pair of boxers that... looked a little thin from where you were standing. you gulped at the lump in your throat and tried to ignore the heat in the walls of your throat as you faced him with an embarrassed expression. you hurriedly handed him the report and tried to get away from him, but he blocked you in your tracks and looked down at you with darkening eyes.

"what's the rush, cariño? run me through these... one-by-one." he asked of you, which sounded more like a demand for you to stay, really, as he moved closer to you while you backed away–backing yourself up against a desk and being pinned against the wall by miguel as he loomed over you and stared you down.

"again, cariño... what's wrong? you gotta run me through these all... now tell me, what's the status on these anomalies?" he asked you as he gently ran his hand over your arm and raised an eyebrow again and involuntarily flexed his arm muscles by pinning his arm against the wall you were nearly backed into if not for the desk in between you two.

"y'better start talking, bella, or else... i might just make you talk myself." he said with a lower, sultry voice as he brought his face even closer to yours, your noses brushing together, and him hearing you whimper a little as he took your smaller hand in his own, bringing it to his abs. "what, cat got your tongue? that's not the little sweetheart i know... c'mon, say something." he encouraged you as you whimpered again and finally mustered the words to utter to him. "...you're... kinda big..." "kinda?" "v-very big..." you blurted out, all flustered as miguel leaned in closer, smiling, about to plant a kiss on your luscious lips. "how sweet..." he muttered as he kissed your lips gently, buttering you up before he shows you how much he's craved your attention before making you desperate for his attention soon enough.

you're in for the long haul this time... before the night ends, all your love and attention will all be on him, and only him–nobody else, just him and his body–and how his face contorts into a wide grin when he sees you stammer, eyes wide, and fluster over how much of a grip he has on you with those muscles he's got. maybe you'll spend the rest of the day with miguel tomorrow, hmm? ben and everyone else can wait... but miguel certainly can't.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

914 notes · View notes

twola · 3 months

Note

might i add damsel in distress with reader never having seen arthur angry before and certainly never seeing him beat the shit out of anyone but witnessing it for the first time when he saves her 🤭

You slide down the back wall of the saloon, wild eyed and terrified at the scene unfolding before you. The neckline of your blouse had been torn, buttons askew and your curve of your breast barely hidden by your chemise. The curls you had pinned your hair up into fell limply and messily over your shoulders.

You could tell a bruise was going to form where he had hit you across the face when you tried to push him away. You barely got a scream out before he slammed you back against the wooden wall, one arm pinned across your collarbones and the other one moving to hike up your skirts - evidently this man hadn’t taken kindly to your flattery trying to empty his pockets. The arm against your collarbone moved south and the tearing of your pretty blouse echoed in the night, while the man’s dirty, rough hand brushed against the inside of your knee.

You readied your lungs to scream again - but before you can, your attacker was ripped from you and handily thrown across the alley between the two buildings.

As you catch your breath, you clutch at your torn shirt as you take in the scene in front of you. Indeed, your mark was thrown into the dirt by a hulking, shadowy figure that it only takes you a moment to recognize the black gambler's hat and worn leather jacket. It's Arthur, who had come along with the group into town.

Arthur strides with heavy, measured steps over to the crumbled body of the man, reaching down with one hand to grab his collar. He hoists the man partway up, his shoulders lifted off the ground, and slams his other fist across his face. You gasp at the noise the man makes, but Arthur pays no mind.

The outlaw brings his fist across the man’s face again. And again. And again. Blood bursts from his mouth and his nose cracks out of alignment. A tooth falls out of the man’s mouth as he loses consciousness.

You huddle against the wall as you watch Arthur beat this man, blood staining his knunckles as he continually slams his fist into the man’s face. You knew, obviously, that this line of work likely required this kind of skillset from Arthur, but it was a different thing entirely to see it in action. Terrifying actually.

After so many blows you’ve lost count, and are unsure if the man is dead or not, Arthur drops him to the ground, a bloody pulp, as he wipes his knuckles against his pants and turns toward you, completely nonchalant.

Arthur holds his hand out in front of him, offering it to you. You take his hand and allow him to pull you up, stumbling slightly as you try to hold your blouse up to salvage at least a bit of your dignity. Arthur immediately pulls his jacket off and lays it upon your shoulders, winding an arm around you to help you walk toward his horse. You curl into his body, large and warm and strong.

He’s gotten you up to his horse, lifting you as if you were nothing.

“Y’alright?”

You nod, still thunderstruck about what you witnessed before. His hands linger on your hips, one of his thumbs rubbing a comforting circle. How is this man the same brute that beat that other one bloody?

“Sorry you had to see that, I know you ain’t used to seeing it.”

“It- it's okay.” You mumble, pulling his jacket around you tighter, your gaze wrenched away from his, falling upon a bloody spot on the collar of his blue shirt. Your hand unconsciously moves to wipe at it, but his hand catches yours midair.

Your eyes slowly make their way back to his. Arthur’s large, rough hand places yours gently upon your thigh.

"Ain't no need for you to be gettin' any blood on you on my account."

"But it's alright for you to get bloody for me?"

He tilts his head down, his eyes hidden by that hat, and he taps your hip before letting you go. You immediately miss the warmth of his hands on you.

"Always, darlin’. ”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #twolafic #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #twola1k

389 notes · View notes

starshipsofstarlord · 5 months

Text

Using You

Summary -> you love him, you really do - he’s your best friend, however you’re scared if you choose to be with him you’ll lose him; you’d already lost too much. However, Daryl thinks that you’re using him to distract yourself with sex. It’s up to you to prove him wrong (2.9k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, unrequited love (or so Daryl thinks), oral sex (male receiving), shower sex, angst, fluff, mentions of death, swearing, smoking

The bed was cold whilst your body continued to be heated by another, shoved up against the wall, with a large masculine hand covering any sounds that threatened to escape from your lips.

You were lost, the Governor had attacked the prison, leaving all of your friends and family to run for their lives and evade the invading walkers that had entered through the broken fences.

And so here you were, in the home of a stranger that was probably dead, being fucked by the archer, clawing at his broad shoulders to escape the loss of your reality that haunted you each time that you closed your eyes. If anyone could understand the horror that tormented you each time you closed your eyes, it was him.

There was no need for words, there were other distractions that were far more pleasant. And you had found it with his dick inside of you, stretching your walls to the point where you felt lightheaded.

Daryl was your best friend, this was seen as wrong on so many accounts, but since the first time you couldn’t find the strength to not repeat your actions. The initial act had made you addicted to feel your bodies intertwine, however it was all physical. And that was exactly what you craved, any emotions didn’t matter, the chances were that you were going to die out here anyways, so it was in your best interest to enjoy the time that you had while you were alive.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Dar.” You mumbled against his palm, puffs of air from your nose creating friction against his hand, as your eyes began to roll back upon their own accord.

The man that was bringing you so close your release grunted in reply, aware that he would shortly follow with his own euphoric bliss, he mashed his hips closer to your own, wanting nothing more than to be as deep within you as possible.

He continued to thrust, until you reached your peak which gave him the go ahead to race towards his own, quickly pulling out of you before he could fill you up, to his own dismay. And as soon as you were both finished you crawled out from his grasp, standing on your own two legs and shuffling through your clothes, tugging them on to conceal everything that you had already exposed to him.

“Where ya goin’ now?” Daryl shook his head, walking towards you to wrap his burly arms around your waist. You closed your eyes and tugged his grip away from you, reaching into your pocket for the pack of cigarettes that you had found downstairs.

“Outside. You coming Dixon?” You didn’t wait for a response, and he was complied once dressed to follow after you, sitting on the steps of the forest surrounded house.

There was no sign of any walkers, only sparse bodies that you had taken down when finding the hideaway, it made the world almost feel normal, but you couldn’t fool yourself. It would never be the same again, it was a danger just to breathe let alone travel anywhere, you’d learnt that from witnessing how many of your friends had died through the last couple of years.

Daryl looked at your form, taking in every speckle marked on your skin, each scar that peaked out through the articles that you donned upon your body. You were the reason he had kept living, striving for something better, and he needed you to know that… even if it killed him.

“Y/n.” You hummed in reply, not daring to look at him, watching the silent trees in front of you rather than adorning him with attention. “Y/n, I- fuck, I love ya dammit!” That seemed to have gained your focus and you stared at him with wide eyes, Daryl stood, pacing on the shabby porch, waving his hand in your direction, and running the other at the back of his head.

“Never mind. Was a stupid thing ta say, jus’ forget it.” He went to walk inside but you rushed up, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around to face you - his greatest fear. If anyone else would have handled him in such a way, they would have been scared for their life, but you knew him, all the good and bad, and the traumas he had survived through.

“I won’t forget it.” You pried, serving him a sad smile. “But you don’t love me like that, I’m your best friend. You’re just saying that because of the things we’ve been doing, I don’t want you to confuse yourself. You’re allowed to care about someone without it having to be romantic.”

“I ain’t confused.” Daryl stared at the ground, kicking his boots against the rotting wood beneath him. “I love ya, always have. Was just too scared to say it, afraid that you wouldn’t love me back, clearly I was righ’.”

“Daryl don’t.” You warned him, you could feel your heart breaking from the broken, hopeless expression that he weaned in your direction. “It’s- I do love you. I do! But there’s no point in starting something that we won’t get to finish, I’m not going to live forever, not in this world. And the last thing I want is for you to blame yourself if you lose me!”

“You ain’t going nowhere.” Daryl stated, stepping towards you once more, nervously reaching his hand up to embrace your jaw. “I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you. Yer stuck with me.” He would

“We should go back inside.” You flicked the cigarette out and stepped on its stub, prepared to walk past him to enter the doorway, however he stopped you. He leant down, pecking your lips quickly so he wouldn’t be hurt if you didn’t reciprocate it. “It’s getting dark.”

You spoke softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside with you. If you were to leave Daryl to his own devices he would no doubt disappear into the woods to clear his loud head, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

Everyone else was already lost, out of sight and possibly deceased. You wouldn’t allow Daryl to leave you, you needed him by your side. If it weren’t for him, you probably wouldn’t have made it out of the prison that you had called home.

“I ain’t scared of the dark.” He muttered gruffly to himself as he walked over to the kitchen area, rifling through the cupboards to see if he’d missed anything within his initial inspection. “Don’t need ya keeping me locked up like some pet.”

“Daryl, that’s not what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, wishing that he could understand your rejection of a relationship. You’d had your heart broken far too many times, despite trusting Daryl, to risk something so important in the new world. “I’m turning in, you can either come and join me, or sleep on the couch. Just stay inside please.”

If he wanted to go hunting in the morning you’d happily go with him. The last thing you wanted was for him to be ran off by some walkers or men with bad intentions like the Governor. You didn’t want to be alone, you couldn’t be alone.

If you were left by yourself, you’d see no point in staying inside. It would mean that you had lost everyone, and you couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Fine. Guess I’ll keep yer bed warm since that’s all you wan’ from me.” You wanted to turn on your heel, to fight back with your own words, but that would only spark his agitated fuse to a whole new extent. To be at each others throats could be the difference between life and death in some worldly situations, and you’d rather live with him hating you than him risking to take a bullet or a bite for you.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you harshly blinked them away; it was always your route of dealing with emotions, to shelter them away. But you were struggling with knowing that Rick may have been beaten to death by that dreadful, power hungry dictator, Carol was god knows where when the prison fell, Judith could…

No. Thinking like that wasn’t helping matters. You couldn’t think of the horrid things that could have taken place after you and Daryl ran.

But guilt was bubbling within you as you thought of how Daryl had opened up to you, and you had outright and in the moment pushed his affection away. You wanted nothing more than him to shamelessly be allowed to love you, but once more, the prison had proved that if anyone chose to care about you they died.

It was exactly the same in the old world. You came into this new one after the outbreak with nobody, and you had found a family of people that would have never interacted in the past. Yet you’d lost your family again. It was heartbreaking, and you’d been foolish enough to practically stab Daryl in the chest.

But he had to understand, somehow it really wasn’t him. It was you. You were a torch that brought a plague of mourning to those that surrounded you, and it wouldn’t be fair for him to pursue the grim reaper herself. Even if he wanted to, he would only end up in more pain.

It would be your time eventually to leave this earth, and it wouldn’t be fair for anyone to miss you. Instead they should in theory be relieved that you were gone, it would mean that their chances of not dying had thickened.

Silently you crawled onto the bed frame, Daryl watched you. You wanted nothing more than to cut into yourself and sob, however you had no intention of doing it when he was present, you had upset him, acting as the victim would only infuriate him. For all the time that you’d known him, if he was resenting someone or something in his mind, he was quick to snap if they pissed him off.

Your head fell onto the pillow as you faced the wall on the left side of the bed, it was large enough for the both of you, and so you felt the mattress dip behind you, from where Daryl had joined you.

It was stupid of you to have pushed him away, you yearned for his arms to encase your waist to comfort both of you, but after your outburst of insecurities, you didn’t deserve it. Not in your eyes, and definitely not in Daryl’s.

To fall asleep easier, you closed your eyes and imagined that you were in the cell block you had taken for your own in the prison, in your bunk without any company. In the morning, you would see all your friends and the people that you had saved from Woodbury eating their rations of breakfast that Daryl had hunted and Rick had farmed. You wished you could remain asleep forever so that you wouldn’t return to the scarce reality where you were picking up your own broken fragments of your shattered mind, and that you could mentally remain in the time where everything was easier and you felt happier.

You had fallen into a deep sleep until the early morning, you groggily sat up, noticing that Daryl was no longer by your side, facing away from you.

He was gone, and it made you panic, until you came to your senses and noticed his crossbow in the corner of the room, and the hush sound of the shower in the room next door. It was a surprise that this place still had access to water and that when the outbreak happened it hadn’t been shut off, it must have had its own power source to conduct such a blissful thing.

And so once your eyes were completely open and you had rubbed the exhaustion and spilt tears from your sleep out of them, you stood, tip toeing towards the bathroom, and noticing that the door wasn’t completely closed, it was ajar just a little, and you could see Daryl’s build stood there under the falling water, the scars on his back enticing you closer.

You shouldn’t have been doing this, you had pushed him away for a reason, but your heart ached to be close to him. You did want him, all of him, in every way there was, but if you started falling down you were certain that you would never stop. It was cease to be something of light of heart, and you would have to mourn someone else that you loved.

He must have heard you, he was swift when it came to tracking, so it came as no surprise. “Wha’ d’ya want?” He asked, eyeing you suspiciously, thinking you only wanted to have another escapade as just friends. You shook your head, eyes threatening to spill over as you realised this was the moment to take the risk. The risk that had your breath getting caught in your throat, and the risk that threatened the happily ever after you dreamed of.

You’d rather be loved by Daryl than have regrets in regards to your friendship. All along you had been fooling yourself, to think that the two of you could ever be less than lovers.

“I meant it when I said I loved you. I’m scared- I want to be with you, I just don’t want to lose you.” He stared at you, watching as you chewed your lip and tugged nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “But we have nothing else to live for than each other. I can’t ignore how I feel, I’ve been doing it for too long.”

The rest that you had gotten had really cleared your head, and as much as you were scared of the future, the priority was to live just another day. “I mean’ what I said, yer stuck wit’ me.” Daryl stated, turning to face you completely through the foggy glass, and your eyes examined the seriousness on his face. “Get in ‘ere, I need ya.”

There was no argument from you, it took you less than a minute to strip yourself of your clothing, aware that this time wouldn’t be a distraction. It would mean more, or everything since the pair of you were lacking any emotional barricades between you now.

You stepped into the shower, walking until your head leant against Daryl’s chest, and his arms encased you, as you mumbled against his skin. “I’m sorry I tried to push you away.”

“I’m sorry I was a jerk.” He replied, holding your face so that he could breathe against your lips. “Didn’ mean anything I said, ‘cept that I love ya. Always have, was jus’ too scared to say it before, figured we had nothin’ more to lose.” He gripped your waist, his knuckles turning white under the cool spray of the shower head as he pulled you flush against him so that you could feel the affect that you had upon his body.

“We don’t.” You agreed, grabbing gently at his shoulders as you met his gaze and the two of you simultaneously leant toward one another. Your lips met, slowly, exploring this newfound feeling of requited love, giving all you had away. Your fears were gone, they didn’t matter anymore, they were locked away in the back of your mind as Daryl effortlessly lifted you up and into his arms, resting you between him and the tiled wall.

“Wish we never had to leave ‘ere, wish we could stay here like this forever,” he spoke against the flesh of your neck as he released kisses to everywhere he could reach. His hand that wasn’t supporting your weight grabbed his cock, tracing the outside of your cunt, causing your breath to hitch, a gasp escaping you as he pushed into you.

He huffed against your warm skin, feeling how your pussy fluttered around his length, as your hands wove through his hair. Once you were fully adjusted, he began to rock into you, pulling in and out, relishing in the glory of your bodies colliding.

Your lips found purchase on his again, silencing the loud moans that threaten to spill over and alert any nearby walkers of your destination. “Fuck. You feel so good Dar.” You whimpered, your eyes closing to avert the falling water from joining the pleasure emitting tears that were spilling, as you felt the notion of love beginning to creep upon you.

Daryl reached down, rubbing at your clit, which causes you to fall over the edge. The edge of endless love, that you had been too frightened to witness. You came around his cock, drenching him with his affection as he pulled out and you instantly dropped to your knees, too weak to stand up.

He leant down to help you, however your mind had different ideas, as you leant forward and shoved his cock in your mouth, gifting the man above you with surprise. His hand rubbed at your scalp adoringly as he heaving inhaled and exhaled, lightly thrusting into your mouth.

You happily choked on his cock as you stared up at him with eager eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel his cum slide down your throat. And the release didn’t stretch out much longer, he emptied his first load since realising that you loved him, and you drank it down without any resentment.

This was all he had wanted, for a long time, to feel as though he mattered more than a tracker and a hunter. He wanted to be loved by the woman of his dreams, and after a dragging of unrequited time, he had finally, for the first time, gotten what he wanted.

You.

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon angst #twd smut #twd x reader

834 notes · View notes

reidsdaisies · 2 months

Note

PROTECTIVE EMILY WITH READERRRRRR

i would love to witness emily go a lil feral if maybe the unsub punches reader or something. the things that woman makes me feel 😩😩😩 i wanna be held by her and have her kiss my tears away

‘𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭’

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x gn bau!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; guns and typical cm case stuff, reader is shot in the shoulder but is okay, rephrasing of the iconic “I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. What’s to stop me from taking you and the little ones out?” line, stressed emily :( and concerned emily, she blamed herself :(, you don’t blame her, kissingg<3.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; i don’t think this is the exact situation you wanted, but this is the direction i took it. not proof read.

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Honey, don’t.”

You gave a silent nod, pressing your lips together in an attempt to keep your mouth shut. Her hand was pressed against your chest, the chest protected by the bulletproof vest you were wearing. She gave you a light pat before drawing her gun and swiftly turning the corner.

Two shots from her Glock is all it took before the unsub was out cold. You all knew he would try to ambush the two of you, just like he did with his victims, and so Emily needed you to be quiet in order for the situation to go the right way. Fortunately, it was easier than you guys had anticipated, and as she bent down to confiscate the perpetrator's weapon, she was taken aback when she looked up to see you turned around the other way, standing beside her with your gun drawn.

“Drop your weapon!” You yelled to the unknown man, but it was too late because he had already fired his shot at you. Luckily, his aim wasn’t too great, and even though you were hit by the bullet, it was in your shoulder, nowhere where the damage couldn’t be undone. You yelped, pushed back slightly by the force, hitting the brick wall behind you, completely caught off guard.

He doesn’t have a chance to redo his shot, because Emily is on it, aiming her gun at a particularly low area on his body.

“I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. Nothing is stopping me from taking you and the little ones out right now, so I’d advise you to listen to my partner and drop your weapon.”

The second unsub falters at that, clearly not wanting to sacrifice his private parts just for the opportunity to maybe shoot two FBI agents and have even more charges against him than he already has. With her words, he slowly lowers down to the ground, placing his weapon down and sliding it across the ground to her.

She stops the gun while still never taking her eyes off him. “Now, hands behind your back.”

“Two unsubs? Two of them! How didn’t we know there were two of them?” She thinks aloud, pacing back and forth right in front of where you sit in the back of an ambulance. She runs a hand through her hair, sighing deeply.

“Em,” You drawl, looking at her with a look her brain, clouded by anger towards the man who hurt you, convinces her is betrayal, but in actuality is just concern.

“It’s my fault, you’re hurt and it’s my fault because I was so sure there was only one unsub.”

She winces at the memory of watching you get shot injury, her vision flashing back to the sight of you leaning yourself up against the wall, hand pressed over your shoulder, blood seeping through your fingers and down your sleeve.

“Emily, sit down and take a breath before you pass out and hit the ground and I’m no longer the only one sitting in the back of an ambulance, getting treated for a wound.”

“Right, you’re right, y/n,” she swallows, moving to sit down next to you on the edge of the ambulance. “It was just your shoulder, and we’ll be going back home soon. I didn’t mean to stress you out, it’s just I can’t stand seeing you in pain like how you were when he shot you.”

The EMT who’s treating your shoulder wound moves to your side, making room for Emily who’s now sitting on your left. You were shot in the right shoulder, so the EMT is still able to work on bandaging you up.

“I know Em, and you should know that it’s not your fault. None of us could have seen that turn of events happening, not even Reid, so don’t beat yourself up for it. And I also know you’re salty that Hotch won’t let you go over to the station to interrogate the man, but that’s most definitely for the best. I know what you’re like when you’re upset with someone for hurting the ones you love, and the guy seems like a pussy, I’m sure he would crap his pants.”

Emily lets out a small chuckle at your comment, the tension slowly dissipating from her features as she leans into your side. "You’re probably right, y/n," she admits, her voice softening with gratitude. "As much as I want to give that guy a piece of my mind, I know it's probably for the best if I leave it to Hotch, just this time."

You offer her a reassuring squeeze with the hand of your uninjured arm, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity.

She meets your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion as she leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

She pulls back, smiling at you.

“You’re very strong, you know that y/n?”

You nod. “You remind me all the time.”

Emily breathily chuckles. “I mean it. You don’t let things like this phase you, and I admire that quality.”

This time you’re the one leaning in, pressing a kiss to her darkly-colored lips.

“Thank you for noticing, and for caring so deeply for me to the point that you get yourself all worked up about it. But also please don’t let your concern get to the level where you’re stressed like that, especially over something you didn’t have control over.”

“I can't make any promises.. but I will try, for you.” She seals her words with another kiss to your lips, the lips now tainted by her lipstick.

“All done,” the EMT says with a smile, pulling you two from your little shared moment.

“Let's get back to the station, y/n,” Emily says, hopping down from the vehicle and offering her hand to you, which you very gratefully accept.

328 notes · View notes

imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 3 months

Text

imagine coming to save Ace

A heaviness shuddered across Ace’s shoulders as tears formed in his eyes; all he ever wanted to do was unburden those he loved the most. Even if it meant in his death, naturally he would accept that. Yet all he could think of was his brothers. How proud of Luffy he was and how comforting it felt to know he would see Sabo soon. Then behind those thoughts, those wonderful memories, there you stood with a warm smile and a hand held out for him. As you always did.

He’d miss that that most. Rendezvous between islands and adventures to play catch up, to indulge in a something romantical that both of you would laugh off later. It was silly – two pirates from different crews but it worked anyways.

He’d miss you so much, would you miss him?

“I would.”

Ace chuckled at his own insanity because now he was hearing voices – your voice. Crumbling into laughter, he stilled when he felt a warm touch on his bare shoulder. He had taken to looking away from the fight down below in the name of saving his life. He couldn’t bear to see people put their lives on the line for him, especially his little brother. Of course, the thought of your appearance crossed his mind, and he hoped you knew better than to not stay away. If he was going to die, he didn’t want you to witness it.

“You’re not dying today, Ace. There’s a lot of people down there fighting, so you must do the same.”

He stared up at the figure looming over him; a dark shadow until the a few clouds moved and his eyes squinted in the sun. Blinking a few times, the owner of the voice appeared before him, and a sense of dread filled his eyes. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“No one, not even you, gets to tell me where I can and can not go.” You kneeled before him and that’s when he noticed the stillness down below. The fight seemed to halt in place, and he realized you were overexerting your powers.

“Nope. I just enhanced,” you smiled at Ace as you worked to release him from his shackles. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a few months, but I’ve been working really hard. I can do more than mind read and slow things down for just seconds.”

Ace studied your face, eyes focused as you freed his wrists, and he felt his heart shake. The entire ground shook under him as he realized something he had feared for so long – he was in love with you and he did not want to die. At least not today and not until he got decades with you. The thought made you smile, and you reached for his face, thumb caressing his cheek.

“I’d like that too, but we need to fight for that.” Ace inhaled deeply and quickly pulled you against his body, he held you tight and laid a kiss under your earlobe.

“Okay,” he whispered into your ear, breath hot on your skin. “Let’s fight. Then we can go away.”

An image of a humble home on a small island, looking out to the sea. A few fruit trees and a child sprinting around the grass. It was definitely a life worth fighting for and you kissed Ace so hard on the mouth he stumbled back with laughter. He looked like himself once more and you knew he was ready to fight. You watched as he stood up and held out a hand to you, a wild look in his eyes.

A look of a man so determined to live.

Taking his hand, you stood on your feet and looked down on the frozen fight.

“I guess you get to meet my little brother today.”

“I already have, who do you think sent word to me?”

The thought of Luffy doing all this for him brought tears to Ace’s eyes and you reached down for his hand, giving it a squeeze. He glanced over at you and wondered if he was worth all this trouble. People will lose their lives today for him…

“Life is worth fighting for and you don’t get a say in how we all feel about you. So, buck up, Ace. I suspect it’s going to be a long fight.”

“I love you,” he whispered, hearting pounding from the anticipation until you slipped your hand from his and held it forward. He watched as you flicked your wrist and time seemed to continue as it did, the fighting grew louder, and you smiled at him.

“I love you too.”

#one piece #ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace

349 notes · View notes

soaringthroughthegalaxy · 2 months

Note

hiiii!! absolutely love your crosshair stuff (i’ve been on a crosshair binge since season three started lol) anyways i was hoping you could write something that’s like post-omega and crosshair escaping tantiss and reuniting with hunter and wrecker (end ep 4) with the prompts

11. I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.

and

16. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.

like i was thinking crosshair and the reader are married but canon happened so the reader stayed with the bad batch and this would be the first time her and crosshair are seeing each other again since the end of season one at kamino

no rush for any of this btw. thankssss

Hello, hi! Thank you so much for this request. I had something similar going through my mind after the episode aired so was excited to see this drop in!! I hope you enjoy 😊

Never Stopped

When Omega's cryptic message leads to a heartfelt reunion on Ryloth's nearest moon, you didn't expect her to be accompanied by the one man you never thought you'd get to see again.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3E04, we love a good reunion, inner turmoil, fluff, comfort, pet names.

“I had help.” Omega’s statement hangs in the air until the light sound of footsteps on metal reaches your ears, and you turn alongside Wrecker to watch as someone steps out of the stolen transport.

No. Not someone.

Him.

For a second, you forget how to breathe, unable to tear your eyes away from the man you never dared hope you’d see again. The last time you’d seen him had been after the fall of Kamino, on that blasted platform in the middle of the ocean. You’d pleaded with him to come with you - to leave the Empire’s clutches - but he’d declined. Your stubborn, infuriating husband.

Maker, you’d missed him.

Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re running, crossing the inky darkness between the two ships, closing the distance between you as Crosshair takes the final step down onto the planet’s surface. He doesn’t have time to protest before your arms are around his neck, hauling him into a crushing embrace. His brothers might be wary, but you aren’t.

Crosshair freezes, caught off guard by your affection. In the short time it had taken you to reach him, he’d braced himself for a slap or to be chewed out. This was…unexpected. You’re warm against him, the softness of your body so familiar, as is the scent of your shampoo. Tentatively, he slides his arms around you in return, pulling you close to suffocate all space between you both, soaking up the feeling of having you back in his arms. “Kitten...”

The whispered term of endearment is all it takes, and a heaving sob leaves you before you can stop it.

Everything since the order was given crashes down on you – the shots he’d fired as you scrambled to escape Kamino, how relentlessly he’d chased you across the galaxy, Kamino falling, the distress message he’d sent to your old comms channel…it had felt never-ending.

But it was over now.

As you bury your face against his chest, the torrent of emotions overwhelms you. There’s a sense of catharsis, a release from the pent-up anguish that had threatened to suffocate you. The weight of his presence feels like a balm to your wounded soul, and with each sob that racks your body, it’s as if a burden is lifted, allowing you to finally exhale the turmoil that had gripped you for far too long.

He’s here. In one piece. Free from the Empire’s clutches, with Omega in tow.

Hunter and Wrecker’s tension eases slightly as they witness the reunion between you and Crosshair, but they’re not ready to let their guard down just yet. They exchange knowing glances before Hunter clears his throat. “We need to go.” He shouts across the distance, feeling guilty for breaking the moment but knowing that the Empire won’t be far behind.

You pull back slightly, hands still clutching desperately at Crosshair as he meets your gaze. He’s never been one to cry, but unshed tears line those sharp eyes you’ve missed so much. Silently, you swipe away your tears with one hand, the other finding his to guide him towards the Marauder. A blur of motion whips past you, and you startle, but with a click of his tongue, Crosshair stills the creature responsible, and a hound falls into step beside him as you lead him back towards the ship.

It feels too good to be true, too easy. The nervousness Crosshair had felt rolling through him as he’d forced himself down the steps of the transport returns. Fingers interlaced with yours, he can feel the skin-warmed metal of your ring. It’s still there after everything.

He feels nauseous as you cross the darkness towards the ship that had once been his home. He glances at Wrecker as you both pass him and the apprehension on his big brother’s face wavers for just a second before Crosshair looks away, unable to stand it.

Hunter has already ushered Omega inside, the young girl saying hello to Gonky, who beeps happily at her return. Crosshair lets you situate him in one of the back seats in the cockpit as Wrecker comes up the ramp, smacking the button to shut it as Hunter takes Tech’s seat and fires up the engines.

Tech.

Crosshair swallows, bile rising in his throat. His twin is gone. Omega had brokenly told him what had happened during one of her many visits to his cell. Guilt curls through him - his brother had insisted on the mission to Eriadu and had been keen to find him, which ultimately led to his sacrifice.

Crosshair barely registers the ship setting off or the jump to hyperspace.

A soft squeeze of his hand draws his focus, and his head tilts to look across at you. Your wide eyes, which he adores, look at him with concern and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hunter and Wrecker are in the pilot and copilot seats, Omega curled in Hunter’s lap as they catch up while Wrecker pets Batcher.

You can practically see Crosshair’s discomfort, so you lead him out into the belly of the ship, closing the cockpit doors behind you to give the pair of you some privacy. “I thought I’d lost you.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you sit side by side on one of the bunks, bodies tilted towards each other.

“Have to try harder than that.” Crosshair’s answer is quick, and the vice-like grip of dread that had encircled his heart slackens as he hears you laugh - it’s a short and sharp sound, nothing like the melodic giggles he’d grown accustomed to during the war, but it’s something. And Maker, does it feel good.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his quips, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. But you spot something missing as you turn his hand over in yours.

His wedding ring is gone.

“They took it from me.” He’s quick to reassure you, seeing the pained expression on your pretty face. He hadn’t even been able to fight to keep it, having woken up on Tantiss without it. The troopers had quickly silenced him whenever he’d asked about its whereabouts.

Silence settles between you both for a moment, your gaze fixed on this hand - on the vacant spot. “We’ll get you a new one,” you state quietly, lifting your eyes to finally meet his.

Crosshair’s brows furrow in disbelief at your words. After everything he’s done and the pain and betrayal, he can’t fathom why you still want to be married to him. Guilt and shame churn in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of an answer.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “I promised to love you forever, and that’s a promise I intend to keep,” you say simply, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Crosshair can’t comprehend. “Despite everything, I still believe in us - in you. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

A lump forms in Crosshair’s throat as he struggles to process your words. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he was better off paying for his sins in that cell. But here you are, offering forgiveness and understanding. He searches your eyes for any sign of deceit or resentment but finds unwavering sincerity and love.

Crosshair reaches out, hand shaking as his fingers brush your cheek. “Maybe you’ve hit your head too many times, kitten.” Crosshair quips, a hint of his trademark sarcasm slipping through. Despite the gravity of the moment, he can’t resist teasing you. But deep down, he’s grateful for your forgiveness and unwavering love, even if he doesn’t understand it.

You roll your eyes at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe you just need a few more hits to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” You retort, your tone teasing yet filled with affection.

As the playful banter lingers in the air, a moment of quiet settles between you both, the reality of the situation sinking in. Crosshair’s gaze softens, his hand lingering on your cheek as he soaks in your closeness. “I love you too.” He whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the ship’s engines. “I never stopped either.”

Your heart swells with relief and happiness, and with a soft smile, you press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the slight tremble beneath your lips. “What happened, my heart?” You ask, your voice soft and concerned, brows drawn down as you watch how he shakes.

Crosshair hesitates for a moment. “They did…things. Some I remember. Some I don’t.” He answers vaguely.

You’re familiar with this game. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to talk about it. And while you know he'll need to one day, today’s not that day. Respecting his unspoken plea not to delve deeper into the horrors he endured, you gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” You murmur softly. “But we need to get you out of those awful clothes.” You change the subject, wrinkling your nose. “Handsome you may be, but this is not working.” You make a vague gesture at his outfit.

Crosshair chuckles softly at your remark, the memories chased away for the time being by your attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll have you know; I make anything look good,” he retorts with a smirk. “But I suppose some fresh clothes wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the ease with which the two of you fall back into rhythm. “Exactly, and I’m sure I can find something more comfortable for you.” You reply, standing up and glancing around the small quarters of the ship.

As you start to pull crates out from the nearby storage racks, Crosshair watches you with a slight smile, admiring the familiar sight of you in motion. “You always know just how to take care of me,” he remarks, his voice low and warm, a tone saved just for you.

You shoot him a playful smile over your shoulder. “Someone has to.” You quip back, pulling out the crate you’d been looking for.

His kit crate. You still had his kit crate, with all your doodles on the outside – his name in Aurebesh, the squad’s symbol, a copy of his tattoo, and ever so slightly wonky hearts that he’d made a show of grumbling about but secretly loved.

Crosshair’s surprise is evident as he watches you retrieve a clean undersuit from the crate. He’d assumed its contents would be long gone - tossed aside, sold, or scrapped. The fact that you kept all his armour, along with his bucket, fills him with a strange mix of emotions. “Didn’t think you’d keep it,” Crosshair finally manages to say.

Before you can respond, footsteps interrupt the moment, drawing your attention towards the source. Hunter steps out from the cockpit – even with the door shut, he can still hear everything. His eyes meet Crosshair’s, and while he knows there’s a lot for them to talk about and work through, and he’s still not entirely sure he fully trusts his baby brother, he wants to offer him some reassurance. It’s the least he can do. “We were never going to get rid of it,” Hunter says, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re still one of us.”

Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words. Emotions swirl within him, a tumultuous mix of gratitude and guilt. As Hunter’s words sink in, his gaze flickers back to you. Despite the doubts and fears that linger in his mind, one thing is certain: he’s home.

With a small smile, you offer the clean undersuit to your husband. “Here,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection. “Let’s get you changed.”

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees @padawancat97 @dangraccoon @jedi-hawkins @dreamie411 @sverdgeir

#Soaring's Ask Box #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #bad batch x reader #bad batch x you #tbb x reader #tbb x you #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair #ct 9904

398 notes · View notes

monzamash · 10 months

Text

one of my kind — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 1.6k summary – getting high with daniel. warnings – 18+ (sex, coarse language, drug references) a/n – yay for the first instalment of the mm2k celebratioooon! shout out to the anon who sent this idea to me ages ago and to @percervall and another anon for sending me in prompts for daniel – love ya's!

It always ended like this – a web of tangled limbs, throats burning, tongues stoking the desire simmering somewhere deep within that was never set alight anywhere else, with anyone else. It was only ever a glance, knowingly across a room; catching bloodshot eyes and sending the signal. You both knew what you were doing, patiently waiting for the opportunity rarely given; supposedly distantly linked through mates, barely friends. Secretly fucking.

At every chance.

Too often for acquaintances.

But he had you floating in his cloud; covered in flames from the moment you walked in the room – dizzy from the promise of having him caught in yours. It was hypnotic the way you floated his way, natural; desperate to breathe in the sweet mix of spiced sandalwood and pot that was fused into your senses for the rest of time, giving you a fix that crawled across your skin; etched in your memory.

“How are ya?” He asked so nonchalant, so easy; as if he hadn’t been thinking about this since the moment you left his apartment in Los Angles weeks ago.

“Good, Daniel,” And desperately craving you, “How are you?”

The small talk was an act for your friends, for the people watching Daniel like a hawk – hidden in plain sight. It always began this way, pretence before the real show, before you snuck off to a quiet place – a bed, a couch or most often a bathroom, squeezed between a cold, chipping wall and the man who had you whimpering, begging to be touched.

It hasn’t been that long, he teased with no leg to stand on, sat back on a chaise lounge that had seen better days. Sunken and worn from the years of battering, witness to each cardinal sin – ruined like you were about to be. Daniel was hard to the touch when your fingertips traced the front of his pants, concealing the one thing that already had your eyes rolling, bewildered by the slurred promise whispered through his pearly smile.

“If you’re quiet, I can give you all of it, baby. None of this foreplay shit; the real deal. A promise that caused a chill to creep down your spine, fingers grasping every stitch of shirt between your thumping chests, nicotine lingering on your lips, his stained with your ruby red lipstick.

“Then don’t just sit there.”

You were impatiently standing between his knees, peering down through your lashes, fluttering and praying your desperation was endearing, not pathetic – attitude a plenty. And from the way Daniel leaned forward, grinning like a Cheshire cat and practically foaming at the mouth, you knew it was working. Intoxication and lust swirled into a cloud of arousal. Hormones hurried and sparks flying, cracking into the darkness and blowing away in the wind.

Fleeting. Temporary. A fix.

Daniel hiked up your skirt that had him plotting this moment from the second you walked through the door, laced panties barely covering any part of your pussy. As your thick thighs clenched his feverish hand, you needed his lips. A kiss from the devil in disguise, your kryptonite incarnate. Laid back, lazy smile, slurred Australian accent egging on your high as your hips rocked, separated from your mind.

“Use my thigh,” Daniel whispered, hoarse and gruff – a lump in his throat rivalling the one caged by the denim beneath.

“You’ve been looking at it all night anyways, haven’t ya?”

His suggestion caused a rippling moan to tumble, stifled by his thick neck you’d found yourself nuzzled into, sighing and moaning – messier than you would ever like to be with someone as majestic as Daniel. “I asked you a question.”

A hum was all you could manage, eyes closed as the high from the pipe you’d taken a hit from finally washed over you. That warm fuzzy feeling burning from your toes to the tips of your ears, a smile slowly slipping across your lips when you emerged from Daniel’s slick neck, pupils dark and blown out.

“But you promised it all, Danny.”

He laughed lowly, amused by the sweetness in your voice while your eyes told a different story entirely. He wanted you just as bad, cock twitching at the sound of your softly spoken words. Enamoured by your lazy movements, lapping against his dick, stiff beyond comprehension.

But of course you complied, desperately chasing some kind of release from the tension gathering in your stomach. Deeply entrenched and only awakened by the man guiding your sensitive clit against his tensed thigh. You’d never done this before, shamelessly gotten yourself off like this. It felt vulnerable when you dared to open your eyes, big brown doe ones staring back at you in awe.

“You are so fucking sexy.” Daniel doubled down, “Like, so sexy, I can’t cope.”

Your soft giggle escaped, causing his dimpled cheeks to deepen and hands to grip your bruising hips that little bit tighter, rocking you raw back and forth, angling you to the shape of his muscular thigh. Languidly building to the promise land, a string of moans lost to the quiet room. The only sounds were the soft hum of house music, clanking of glass bottles and your soft, silken cunt colliding with tanned, tattooed skin. Coming undone.

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like…” You huffed with stray hair sticking to your warm skin, hands desperately gripping Daniel’s strong shoulders and pulling yourself from his glistening skin.

“Like what feels like?”

All of this. All of you.

"Fucking you high."

"And?" Daniel asked, eyebrow quirked waiting for the verdict.

"So hot. Maybe too hot."

He hummed in agreement, tongue quickly swiping across his swollen lips, "Probably should be criminal." "I think it still is in some states..." You quipped, earning a genuine laugh from the man below. Enamoured by every thing you do.

Daniel peeled you apart, knees anchored beside his hips while you lined him up between your slick thighs, drenched with the thought of having him filling your tight hole. Finally, you muttered on your descent, feeling every curve, every bump, snug by your walls as you sunk down to his pelvis. A soft bated breath hitched beside your ear, husky and deep when you snapped your punishing hips, painfully perfect in every way. Sighing in synchronicity.

“Don’t tease.”

He loved to say things like that, a taunt for you to do exactly the opposite. A challenge to the finish line, racing for another kind of high – one that didn’t involve filling your lungs with smoke but just as dizzying. Daniel reached for the ashtray sitting on the arm of the lounge beside you, joint securely placed there while he attended to your needs.

And needy you were.

He placed the laxly rolled stick between his slightly parted lips, eyes never leaving yours as he took a drag and watched your neck turn a deep red. He loved you like this, pretty and wrecked because of him. Stealing the pleasure, taking what you wanted, taking over him. All of him, no inch left untouched. He swore he had died and gone to heaven when you snatched the joint from his mouth and placed it between your loose lips, sucking in the high and blowing it back into his face, smirk plastered across blushed cheeks while you watched his eyes close in aroused frustration.

“I’m gonna bust if you do shit like that,” He whispered, barely cracking a smile but you could see it. Subtle and just for you.

“Do it,” You pushed, “Come for me. Come inside me.”

Daniel looked up this time, a wicked laugh slipping past gritted teeth. He was trying to hold on, he was a gentleman after all – even if he was higher than a kite. But you looked like an angel fucking his dick; hands planted on his beating chest, tits bouncing under a shirt that was as sinful as the act itself. Thin and white, pert and fucking glorious. You were something else.

“You don’t want that mess, pretty girl. As much as it kills me to knock back that offer...” Daniel looked like a man tortured. Bitterly disappointed with the words leaving his own mouth as you sat back and rutted on his cock, egging him on just a little further until he grasped your arse in his palm, fingernails digging and making you wince, in pleasure and pain.

“Fine,” You huffed, eyes rolling, “Mouth?”

It was a simple question and it didn’t take long until you were swallowing the answer with teary eyes and the taste of him on your tongue. You loved it, really you did, watching him come undone, uncensored and on your knees – a front row seat. And of course Daniel made sure you got your fix with his mouth almost immediately attached to your cunt, making sure every single last drop was extracted before he came up for air – his stubbled chin glistening with the taste of you.

“You remind me of that INXS song,” He mumbled as you sat tangled together on the beaten up lounge, revelling in the brief silence before facing reality and sinking further into its secret-fuelled depths .

And seemingly into uncharted territory.

“Which one?”

The nest of curls on Daniel’s head brushed against the back of the lounge, smile lazy as he scanned your tired bloodshot eyes, “Need you tonight. You know, the sexy one?”

Your smile was coy, face burning again, “I’m familiar.”

“That’s a bitta’ you, I reckon.” His smirk grew larger the longer he watched you crumble and recoil from his stare, begrudgingly smitten.

It made sense for it to be your song. Steamy, sultry, frisky – sex almost always imminent when you found yourselves alone. Depraved and deprived, a dangerous cocktail of bad judgement. Is it a mistake if it happens more than once? More than a handful of times?

Or worse – what if it never stops?

“We’re cut from the same cloth, me and you,” He whispered, kiss pressed to your temple.

“You're one of my kind."

stay tuned for more one shots & blurbs celebrating the blog hitting 2k followers! thoughts? feelings? let me know! or click for more of my writing #monzamashmasterlist #mm2k

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 smut #f1 imagine #monzamashmasterlist #mm2k #daniel ricciardo imagine

954 notes · View notes

ioveartfilm · 2 months

Text

Eternal Show | Copacabana

Summary You were the brightest star of all. You shine too brightly upon others without you knowing. What you didn’t know is that stars tended to be bright before they shut down.

Genre Drama, Romance.

Additional Content Major Death, Violence, Mentions of Sex, Mature Content, One shot.

Pairing Gojou Satoru x Fem! Reader

He is taken back by your stunning reflection, the way your crimson dress envelopes your figure as if it was tailored for you. He can’t resist lacing his arms around your waist, breathing in close to your neck, hoping to savor your scent a little longer. The fabric accentuates your body splendidly. No wonder a great crowd gathers to witness your performance. You may be theirs for the night, but once you stepped out of that stage you were his. He plants a line of kisses down your neck tightening his embrace, getting lost on your soft skin. Before he can go any further, you extricate yourself from his hold to meet his longing gaze.

“I suppose you liked the dress.” You claimed with a light chuckle.

“Is it too obvious?” He responds placing both of his hands on your hips, clearly unable to keep his hands off you. “Allow me to be selfish for a few seconds. I want to hold you in my arms a little longer before you ascend to that stage. I have countless time seen you perform through I don’t think I will ever get used to see those starving for you.”

“Let them watch. Let them appreciate the sight. Little do they know, a man has already captured my heart. The only one who comprehends my heart and soul like a well-read book.”

A caress down your face sent a spark running down your body with anticipation. “Beauty with a honest heart and deep soul. How can I ever ask for more?”

You laughed at this. “You sweet talker. Save your compliments for later. I must get going.” He leans down to lock lips with you, savoring the taste of your redden lips. You gently pushed me away once you felt his tongue pleading entrance.

“Are you doing this on purpose? Ruining my makeup to held me up?” He could only smiled carefree disarming your comment his lips carrying the trace of your lipstick.

“Forgive my love, I’m afraid I won’t make it through the night without tasting your lips.” You shake your head with a smile playing on your lips in response to his heartfelt confession.

“I really need to go.” Eventually he retreat himself from you his hands aching for your touch already.

“Leave them breathless, my dear. Paint this place with the hues of your grace.” He exhales every words carrying great emotion with a gaze brimming with genuine affection solely for you.

The overall ambience welcomes you with open arms with music wafting through the air, a courtesy of a lively band playing jazz. It’s glamorous surroundings blind your eyesight with its golden brilliance. The rhythmic tap of heels underscores the lively energy from the sweethearts dancing along with the melody. The sound of clinking of glasses, murmurs of distinctive conversations of the gentlemen being witnesses of the display invaded your ears as you walked further into the nightclub. Eventually you found yourself poised before the opulent bar working the confines of the club. Greeted by a man in a tailored white shirt and suspenders, acknowledging you with a insightful smile. The mixed scent of different liquors hit your nostrils as you settled down upon the barstool.

“Which whom I’m having the pleasure of serving tonight?” The bartender interject holding eye contact with you, almost like he was hypnotized by your demeanor. Fixing your posture you reciprocate his gesture with a kind smile.

“(Y/N) (L/N).” You present yourself, extending your right hand which he respond your mannerism by delicately placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

“My pleasure. It will be a honor to serve you on this beloved night. What would you like to indulge in first?”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression brimming with amusement. “Aren’t you going tell me your name?”

The bartender chuckles lightly upon hearing your comment offering a polite grin. “Pardon me, Ma’am. My name is not such of importance, though if you wish to know then I have not option but do so.”

“Satoru Gojo. Pleased to make acquaintances with you, Ma’am.”

“Oh please, darling. Just call me. (Y/N). I’m new in town and I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with everything. I came across with this club while I was passing by, contemplating if I should just have a moment for myself with a nice drink.” You confess freely.

“Apparently I have done a great decision. The ambience, the music, it’s lively show. I’m delighted by everything.” You exhale a sigh, accompanied by a smile.

“That’s explains why I haven’t seen such a gracious face before. You see, I grew here and I’m aware of everyone around here. Believe me, I wouldn’t have forgotten a face like yours.” Satoru articulated smoothly gaining a flustered smile a laugh leaving your parting lips.

“My. Do you say that to every new face you encounter?”

“You’re the first, dearest.”

You laugh, a hand discreetly veiling your mouth at his complaints. “I found that hard to believe. I will like to have a Daiquiri, please.” The nights unfolds smoothly from there as you engaged with the dashing bartender, effortlessly traversing through a myriad of topics. Every single one possible.

“A showgirl?”

You nodded caressing the edges of your empty glass. “Yes, I used to be a showgirl back at New Orleans. I have retired for some time.”

“Why so?” He can’t help but inquired more into the matter.

“I guess I wanted to wander around see what’s out there for me.”

“And what have you found so far?”

“Well,” You replied. “I have found for starters a mesmerizing night with a striking man of resplendent white and piercing blue eyes.”

“If I’m being honest.” You continued. “You possess great beauty to be wasted behind a bar. It should presented on the big silver screen.” You only spoke the truth, his allure was unparalleled with breathtaking features that leaves an indelible imprint on those who beheld him. His eyes widened slightly in response to your words leaning in closer supporting himself on his elbows against the bar table until both of your faces where inches away.

“I should been the one saying that.” He says with a sudden change of demeanor making you want to lower your gaze at the intensity in his clear eyes. “Your skin emanates a radiant glow, your hands boast a delicate texture, your fragrance that carries the essence of a blooming spring. Your white dress that embrace your body right, with its silver components making you shine with your beautiful smile. Your face bears flawless features, unlike any other woman I have encountered. And your lips…your lips. Adorned with a dashing red hue, with their softness that is visible even from here.” He trails off, genuine admiration painted in every word he said.

The next thing you knew, you find yourself in the backseat of his car fervently melding your lips with his like tomorrow won’t arrive. The windows gradually obscured, veiled by the warmth of your combined breaths. His touch becomes an intoxicating stimulus, propelling you both into a passionate entanglement within the confined space of the car. You emit a moan against his lips, clutching his shoulders while the burning sensation run down your body as your back collides with the seat beneath you. His ardent thrusts hit you driven by an urgent need for mutual pleasure. All you can do is surrender to his affections, vocalizing his name in impassioned cries.

“I find it hard to believe you’ve only shared kisses with a select few.” He remarks with hint of disbelief lingering in his voice. You shrug nonchalantly at his surprise.

“Honored that you are on that list?”

“I will be more honored if that I’m the last one on the list.” He express genuinely his touch trailing down your naked back.

Elevating your gaze you inquired, your curiosity getting the best of you with a subtle hint of playfulness. “How many women have you kissed?”

“Not many.” You trace his chest with your fingertips feeling his smooth skin.

“Are you lying to me?”

He shakes his head in response. “Now, why would I lie?”

“Perhaps you’ve already shared kisses with a thousand women.” His hand made contact with the side of your face once you finish your statement.

“Now why would I engage with a thousand women? Why would I kiss that much women considering my limited interactions, where only a select few have succeeded on trapping me. Holding me captive with their displays of affection?”

The round of applause reverberates through the air, signaling the end of your performance while music gradually fades away. Extending your gratitude to your loyal audience, your gaze drifting away towards the very back of the club where the bar is situated. In that brief moment like time stopped, you contemplate the face that holds a special place in your heart.

“Are you sure?” Satoru asks you, a frown drawn on his face. Your trembling hands clutch the pregnancy test before present it to him, fearing the worst. The last thing you expected was Satoru’s change of faces replaced by a wide smile his orbs shinning upon learning the news.

“I will work hard at the bar, if possible I will take more part time jobs. I won’t leave you alone in this matter.”

“Miss (Y/N). Someone required your presence for a brief moment.” You were soon informed by staff that someone will like to have your presence for whatever reason. Stepping out of your room, your eyes wandered around the club until your eyes landed on a man in a well-tailored suit. A dark fabric excusing an intimidating aura along with a knotted tie, polished leather shoes and finally a shiny diamond lacing around his forefinger. His posture plus his predatory eyes were ready to eat you alive. His presence makes you unease though you had no option but walked over as he calls you over to his table.

“My. I’m honored, The famous miss (Y/N) agreed to meet me after her performance. I’m sure you’re tired, though grant this man a moment with you. Who he went all his way down here to only see you perform.” Fixing your unease demeanor, you nods at his words with a charismatic smile, taking a seat before him.

“I’m pleasured to hear you only come to the club to see me perform. It brings me great joy.” He took your hand on his, kissing your gloved hand while applying an uncomfortable tight pressure.

“It brings me great joy” He remarks. “To share this moment with you. The club will be nothing without your presence gracing us.” He speaks and you could swear his eyes deepened in hue. “Enlighten me what would it take for me to spend a night with you?”

“What?” You displayed surprised, hoping you had misheard his words. His grasp intensified eliciting a sharp intake of breath, his action making you hiss in pain.

“Come on, sweetheart. Stop playing hard to get.” He urged, a playful glint in his eyes. You rose instantly from your seat, yanking away your hand from his grasp.

“I kindly ask you to leave. Your behavior is inappropriate.” A dark chuckle escapes him, rising to his feet as well, fixing his menacing gaze on you.

His voice drips with disdain as he utters, “You whores always playing hard to get. Tell me how much money you want? I can give you more than you earn in this shitty club.” You scoffed in disbelief and visibly disgust by his presence ready to leave. Before you could do that, he grabs your forearm roughly pulling you back.

“Let me go—!” You feel yourself being freed when Satoru was already at your side as he forcefully distanced the man from you with a push.

“Sir. I ask you to leave.” Satoru's authoritative voice resonated through the nearly deserted club. The other man clenching his teeth before uttering with a tone of derision, staring indifferently at Satoru with no intention of collaborating.

“Who are you the bartender? Get out of my way!” He reached out to grab you once again, when Satoru swiftly position himself in front of you shielding you, pushing the man with great strength causing him to collide with the table behind him. The sound of shattering glasses distorted the ambience of the club. A surge of anger engulfed him, prompting to rise. Using his fist, he delivered a direct punch to Satoru’s face.

“Satoru!” You exclaimed horrified, witnessed your lover’s fallen form. You were brutally pushed aside almost losing your equilibrium when the man continued his assault on Satoru, punching repeatedly.

There was too much blood. Too much to be Satoru’s.

Satoru regained his strength, delivering a forceful kick to the man's chest, forcing him to stagger backward. Rising to his feet, he then proceed to land punches to the man’s face hatred coursing through his body. You hurriedly went to his side, gripping his shoulder. “Satoru, stop! Let’s call the police!” You beg desperately, hoping your words can be heard.

A chaotic scene unfolded as Satoru was pushed back, you rush to his side to help him. The man wiping the blood from his mouth rose to his feet again. Time seemed to slow as the ominous sound of a charged gun filled the air. Instinctively, you positioned yourself in front of your lover uttering his name. Horrified screams echoed after the haunting sound of a shotgun took in, signaling someone got shot.

It took a moment to realize that you were the one who got shot.

You pushed Satoru on time before the bullet could hit him, time froze, however you didn’t immediately feel any pain. With difficulty you lower your head to stare down at your bloody chest, your white dress stained with the dark hue of your blood. You gasped loudly lifting a hand to stop the bleeding. The excruciating pain stop you from doing so, as you crumpled to your side.

“(Y/N)!!” Immobile and in agony, you heard his voice calling your name. Pain enveloping you in an embrace. The man’s leather shoes vanished from your view as you bleed on the ground, while the pain stifled any coherent thoughts. The old notion of “witnessing your life before death” felt like a cruel lie. You were dying and it was painful, leaving you gasping for air with a searing pain in your chest.

“No, we aren’t naming him after you if it’s a boy.” Satoru laughs, with a fake offended look.

“Why not? You don’t like my name? That’s a shame.”

“It’s already enough I have to deal with you.” You replied simply caressing the side of your stomach.

“You’re very cruel to your future spouse.” Once as soon Gojo said those words, your eyes widened moving your head to see him.

“What did you said?” You uttered shakily. Satoru offered a tender smile while lowering to one knee, cradling your hand in his own.

Satoru spoke earnestly, “I know it’s crazy given our brief time together, but I’ve found myself deeply in love with you. And if that makes me a fool, so be it. (Y/N), will you marry me?”

Overjoyed, you enthusiastically exclaimed. “Yes, a thousand times yes!!” Leaping into his arms with pure happiness.

The sapphire ring on his hand radiates a brighter glow, it’s timeless significance growing as it weathers the passage of time. Waving the half empty glass of his drink, a voice calls him pulling him out of thoughts.

“Sir, we are about to close.”

A sigh escapes his lips upon hearing this. “I will take my leave shortly if that’s okay.” The man nodded at the older man’s request. Satoru’s heart swelled with nostalgia as he surveyed his surroundings. Witnessing the changes over the years weighed heavily on him. Leaving his seat, he approaches the newly transformed stage. Despite the changes, it remains the same stage where you once performed. How fortune everyone back then were. Being able to witnesses your timeless performances. Ascending the stairs, Satoru stands on the stage glancing around. Overwhelmed by his emotions, he burst in tears. His cries reverberate through the empty club. The night still haunts him, blaming himself everyday for not be able to save you. He lost his youth, he lost his baby and he lost you. The faint sound of curtains opening draw his attention, as he lifts his tear-filled eyes, his cries subside. He saw you. Standing there, wearing the same dress from the day you passed away.

“(Y/N)…?” He calls for you, his voice becoming weak.

“Hello, my love.” Upon hearing your voice, Satoru bows his head overcome with sadness. The ache of missing your voice hits him. It hurts so much hearing it once again.

“Why did you left me? Why did you have to leave so soon?” He cries. “I missed you dearly, I still miss you. I hate myself for not saving you.” Strolling your way towards your lover, you hold his face on your hands so he can meet your eyes.

“Believe me, I didn’t want to leave you. All I wanted was to start a new life with you, with our baby. I’m sorry I had to leave you alone.” Satoru continued his cries, shutting his eyes together.

Blinking away tears, you let out a strained sigh. “Why haven’t you been taking care of yourself, huh? Are you trying to make me mad?” You said, your voice lingering with concern. Satoru didn’t respond, still crying his heart out.

“Give me your hand.”

After a few minutes, Satoru’s sobs subside after hearing your request. He blinks in confusion staring back at you. “What?”

“Just give me your hand. I want to see if your dancing skills are still good.” You say infusing a moment of lightness. As your hands link together, the ambience changes transporting you both back in time. 30 years ago when youth and love intertwined between you two.

In each other’s arms, you both laughed and exchanged smiles dancing with carefree abandon. The old same tunes surrounded the dance, the ones you used to perform to. In that perfect moment, reality faded away for Satoru, lost in the enchantment of the past. The Satoru from 30 years ago dancing with the love of his life.

“Sir—“ a firm grip interrupted the staff man from calling the elder man.

“It’s okay, let him be for a couple of minutes.”

Silently the staff observed the older man dancing in solitude with the ghost of you. Moving with a poignant grace, lost in the memories of a stolen youth.

Author’s Note: I kind of had this draft for a while so I’m posting it now all fixed. Thanks for reading ! Please check out my other works.

song | other shots

115 notes · View notes

hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 1 month

Note

Hi can I request a oneshot with the team x someone's daughter (idm who) who has POTS and has a bad POTS episode (not fainting tho) and just them helping or smt like that?

BAU team X POTS Teen Reader

Request: Hi can I request a oneshot with the team x someone's daughter (idm who) who has POTS and has a bad POTS episode (not fainting tho) and just them helping or smt like that?

I don't have POTS so I've done research and using the NHS website to help lol

The team are interviewing a teenager who witnessed the unsub kidnapping his next victim who the BAU were chasing, the teen has a pots episode.

Third person pov...

It had been a sunny day, in Louisiana

Y/N L/N was on their way home from a day out with friends, as they walked they routinely took breaks as to not have a POTS episode.

On one break they stood under a shaded area drinking some water, as they did they spotted a man dragging a young girl a couple years younger than they were, they watched as the girl struggled in the man's grip.

She and Y/N made eye contact, the desperation in her eyes made Y/N realise she was being kidnapped, they watched as the man forced the young girl into a white van, they stayed hidden.

After that happened they called the police.

Hours later the FBI show up at Y/Ns house, after reassuring their parents the teen was taken in for questioning about what they saw and if they could help them.

The interrogation room was warm, far to warm for Y/Ns liking, they of course knew it was hot outside but inside was unbearable.

Also they forgot to ask for some water, because of their condition the teen had to keep themselves from becoming to hot and to drink enough fluids otherwise they would faint.

As they sit in the room waiting for the agents to come in they begin taking off their button up shirt they had worn over the top of their tank top.

Soon two agents entered the room where Y/N was waiting, they could see the fear and anxiety in the teen eyes. Their hands were shaking and was fidgeting in their chair.

Morgan and Rossi took the lead in the interview, while the rest of the team observed from the other side of the two-way mirror.

"Now Y/N can you tell us what you saw?' Rossi asked gently, trying to make the teenager feel comfortable.

Y/N took a deep breath and began to recount their experience. They had been walking home from hanging out with friends, when he saw the unsub forcing a young girl into his van.

The H/C teen had immediately called the police but stayed hidden, watching the whole ordeal unfold. They manages to describe the unsub in great detail, from the way he looked to the van and the girl he took.

The team was impressed by the teens bravery and their attention to detail. But suddenly, their eyes screwed up in pain and began grabbing their chest.

Fanning themselves pulling the tank top away from their heated skin. The team were shocked not knowing what was happening to the teen.

Rossi and Derek were quick to the teens side. "Episode" mutters the teen slouching forward, this made Derek leap to catch the teen.

"Whoa there" he catches the teen, gently tapping their face to keep them awake. "Water they need fluid" Yelled Spencer, he had recognise the symptoms of POTS when the teen started fanning themselves during their explanation.

"And call and ambulance!" JJ nods her head as she begins calling for an ambulance.

Hotch then runs off for a bottle of water, as he came back he thew it to Rossi who grabbed it and began opening it for Y/N, he then knelt doen next to the teen.

" Ragazzino (kiddo), come on I need you to drink this for me" he coaxed the teen gently as Derek lifted their head to be able to drink the offered drink.

Y/N begins drinking the water, which helped, they needed lots of fluids during an episode. Spencer then walks into the room. "Ambulance is 5 minutes out, I've read up of POTS we should help them stand up and walk around slowly" explains the Genius.

Derek and Rossi look at each other before nodding. "Okay let's get them up" "on 3. 1..2..3.." together they help Y/N stand up.

Holding them up they trio begin walking slowly around the room to get Y/N moving to help the teens flare up, as they did this the ambulance finally arrived.

Y/N was then taken to hospital, Hotch called their Mum to meet them there, the team all pile into the two black SUVs, all wanting to make sure the teen was okay.

The next day, Y/N is back at the police station, their episode wasn't dangerous one, they had probably overexertered themselves yesterday after watching the kidnapping.

As they walk around they find the FBI agents that took so much care of them, their Mother had insisted on bringing them all home made cookies to thank them.

The teen knocked on the door to the conference room the team was using, everyone was there, Rossi and Derek were surprised to see the teen up and looking healthy again.

"Hey everyone" they wave to the team, the teen walked in holding out the box of cookies. "Thank you for helping me yesterday, Mum made cookies as thanks" they explained opening the box.

The team were shocked, they all reached into the box and grabbed a cookie each, Y/N watched as their faces all lit up at the taste. "Thank you and thank you to your Mother for the cookies" Hotch tells the teen.

Y/N gives them a huge smile. "Also I'm here to help you more, I remembered a few more things, when I have an episode I get brain fog and forgot a few pieces of information" they explained, soon the teen was sat at the table with the team.

The ac on high with a bottle of cold water infront of them. Y/N began telling the agents what they remembered, thanks to their memory they were able to catch the Unsub before he could grab another Victim.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, sorry for the wait I've had the worse cold literally all weekend felt like I was dying, finally feeling better again so here is a oneshot for you.

Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word count: 1100

#criminal minds #fanfic #behavioural analysis unit #fluff and comfort #oneshot #light angst #x teen!reader #bau x teen!reader #reader has pots #condition #david rossi x teen reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #aaron hotchner x teen reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x teen reader #jennifer jareau x teen reader #fainting #reader has a condition

92 notes · View notes

the-faceless-bride · 2 years

Text

Wasted on a dream...

Imagine: In your final moments you confess how you've wasted your life on a dream, and you figure you might as well tell someone how you feel, even if it isn't the one who is about to take your life... Or... Was.

Includes: Asa (the collector), Jesse (Chromeskull), Jason (the zombie), Daniel(Candyman), Thomas (leatherface)

Asa The Collector

You weren't meant to be in his collection, it was meant to be one of your roommates to start. He was watching for a while and thought they would be a pretty addition to his collecting, a pretty new butterfly... Well until he saw how much prettier you were...

That night he had your roommate in the box and you and the other tied to chairs, he planned to be a bit more creative tonight feeling inspired by his recent catch, and while the other roommate kicked, screamed, bit, and cussed a storm at him trying to get away... You sat there in silence.

At first, he thought you just knew you weren't getting out and had already given up, but there was much more than that... You were thinking about how much time you waisted...

Staying home every night, waiting for that prince charming you dreamed so much about, taking all those cold showers, and wasting all that time... Throwing your life away on a dream that never came true...

When he finally had more on to you, you were already lost in thought. You smiled, your lower lip quivering slightly before letting out a huff of a chuckle. "Wanna know something funny?" Asa paused, this was new. People didn't talk to him... Well, at least not as you had just done now. How interesting. "I always thought I was gonna have a fairytale life, with a prince and a perfect home, and be taken care of all my life... All that dreaming... Waiting... Wishing... And it was all for nothing... Im gonna die, and I never even got to see that prince... Not even once..." A tear slowly descends on your cheek.

You weren't paying attention to anything the man in the mask was doing but you heard a scream and then a gurgle before a bloodied hand reached out and roughly picked you up, and before you could fully process what was happening you were dropped in a closed small space before the top was closed over you.

Asa knew he was no prince charming, but if being taken care of and having a home was all you wanted? He could do that for you butterfly.

Jesse Chromeskull

Jesse had found you; Jesse had just finished playing with his latest piggy and was making his way to his car to go home. But stopped when he heard a soft sniffle, Jesse paused in his moments and turned on his heel. And that's when he spotted you.

Sitting on the curb of the street; tears falling down your glistening cheeks, lip slightly wabbling, shoulders jolting with each sniffle and harsh breath, eyes downcast looking at your feet. Aww, poor little piggy... Looking slightly to the left of you he saw an empty beer bottle, just how many of those have you had?

He slowly made his way over to you, briefly looking around to make sure there would be no witnesses and he slowly turned on his camera.

You heard some shuffling before it stopped right next to you, you sniffled one last time before turning and looking up at who was next to you. Jesse found you looking up at him with your puppy dog eyes endearing.

'What's wrong?' A custom text-to-speech voice asked you, and you let out a small huff. " it's a long story... But to sum it up, I was at a party with my boyfriend and uhh... Turns out he needed more than me... Caught him with my best friend... So much for prince charming..." Ouch, Jesse thought. You mumble that last part to yourself, but Jesse heard you. Jesse tilted his head to you, 'need a ride home?' The text-to-speech offered, and while he was a stranger and if you were sober would have said hell no, you were heartbroken and very much drunk...

You sat in the passenger seat of Jesse's sleek leather seated car, looking out the window as Jesse drove. You were still sniffling but weren't breaking down. Jesse was expecting you to stay quiet for the whole drive, but you surprised him. "Have you ever been in love?" Jesse teased for a moment his hands tightening on the steering wheel, "I always wanted to be... I always dreamed of being deeply in love with someone, someone who loved me and wanted to care for me, someone to have a family with, someone who would do anything for me if I asked... You think that's real?" Jesse slowly eased back up, and he thought for a moment... Yes, he was in love once... Well, at least he thinks he was in love... He did marry her, he was going to have a family with her, he was going to have a family with her, and if she asked him for the mood he would do anything he could to give it to her... Yeah, he is pretty sure that was love... Only she wasn't as in love with him as he was with her...

You softly laughed before looking over at him, "im starting to lose hope... That person doesn't exist, do they." You were no longer asking a question...you had started to realize that, that fairytale was nothing but a lie. No, Jesse thought, they exist... I was that person.

Jesse pulled a U and started driving to his house, this whole time he was gonna bring you to the playroom. You would've made a pretty piggy; hell you hadn't even given him your address, he just started driving and you just accepted it, just assuming somehow he knew where you lived. But Jesse had a new plan as he drove home, slowly turning off and removing his camera.

Jason V. The zombie

You met because of a date gone terribly wrong you went on a date with a 'nice guy' who you thought was finally the prince you were waiting for. when he said you were going to Camp Crystal lake you heard of the place and figured it was technically a resting place and it would be quite rude to just go rummaging around there without something? So you picked some flowers from your garden and went on your date.

It was not how you thought it was going to go, and it all went downhill as soon as you placed the small assortment of flowers at the docks and the first thing your date did was scoff you felt awful for what happened to this poor boy and your date only rolled his eyes at the story not feeling sorry at all. But the large man hiding and watching found it to be very thoughtful of you...

And it was the final straw when you went to sit down and your date started kissing you, but not in a sweet way... Lustfully, and didn't take too kindly when you pulled away with a frown, for a few reasons... The first being that this was still technically a resting place as someone did die here and was still here, or their body at least. And if they thought that you were going to drop your pants in the forest of said resting ground and degrade this poor boys place of rest they were horribly mistaken, and second you thought this would be the place to finally make it official and they would ask you to be their partner, here with the fireflies, wilderness, and the big ol' beautiful sunset... Guess not.

When they started berating you for being "a prude" and making those pretty eyes of yours tear up, they got an axe thrown into the back of their head... You gasped, a moment of shock as some small blood bullets landed on your face you let out a screech. Standing to run but managing to run right into a bear trap. You fall with a cry and look up at the large looming man above you. You whimper a please before laying your head on the soft dirt ground with a small cry.

Jason knelt down getting on his knees beside you, snapping open the trap as quickly and painlessly as he could. Before lifting you and letting your head rest on his strong chest.

It shattered his undead heart hearing you softly babble about how "this isn't how the night was meant to go", " this is where your fairytale was finally meant to start...", and "wasted so much time of something that was never going to be..."

You poor little thing... Don't worry, Mamma likes you, and so does he! He can give you a fairytale, just like the ones in the story books his mom would read him at night before bed. He could be your prince...

Just as long it meant you would be his princex and would give him his fairytale in return...

Daniel R. the candyman

You were forced to do this, the boy you liked and had been daydreaming about had invited you to his house and you were over the moon. You were convinced that this is where you were finally going to be noticed and loved... You were wrong, not a minute or two after showing up you were laughed at by him and his friends, called names, tossed in a dark bathroom, and told that until you said the words to summon the candyman you wouldn't be let out.

You were already crying by the time you got past the first word, it wasn't a secret that this stuff scared you and made you want to hide away under your covers like a little kid. And all you could hear was their laughter at your quivering voice.

Daniel slowly woke up and watched for you to say the last few words, he grew intrigued no one who called him was already crying. It was clear you didn't want this, so why were you? It wasn't until the fourth call that he could hear around him, your soft sobs and the laughter of the group behind the door... And while Daniel didn't know you locking you in here wasn't a very nice thing for them to do to you...

By the final call, you had covered your eyes with both hands and whimpered to be let out... But there was only silence. You went to open the door but were quickly grabbed and pulled away from the door. And he was there, looking down at you. "Now why would you do something so foolish as to call to me, when you clearly do not want me?" And you spilled. You figured he would kill you and you might as well confess everything in your heart now.

All your daydreaming, wishing, your dreams of "being the one someone looks at like your the most beautiful thing they had ever seen, to be loved and have someone be hopelessly devoted to you and you in return, to be the one that lights someone's world with a single smile..." And it touched Daniels bee-infected heart...

Daniel looked into your eyes, a slow tilt to his head before slowly caressing his hook along your jaw, "If that is what you want..."- moving softly up your cheek before moving back to lift your chin... -" then you shall have it..."

And just like that, when you blinked he was gone... When you wanted out you gasped in horror, the group was gutted and strewn about the room...

You were with a group of friends, the group had all stopped to grab some things at a convince store when you and Thomas locked eyes for the first time. He was helping his momma put heavy boxes up on some high shelves when you saw him, the sun caught in his dark curly hair, his eyes sparking a burning desire. He was beautiful and strong, and from how he was with the sweet old lady at the counter he was respectful and thoughtful, which was much more than any of the other guys your age.

But nothing can ever go your way, as you were immediately teased for your interest in the giant. One going as far as to make a joke about "beauty and the beast" taking a jab at your love for fairytales and your dreams of living one making the rest of the group all laugh at you. You knew they were only playing... That didn't make you feel any less silly or mocked...

But you head your head high, "look im sorry im not willing to settle for some jerk who is only interested in sex and thinks he is such a nice guy for giving the fantasy lover a chance, I want someone who really wants me not just for looks or body." I take a gab at the one who made the joke as she and her boyfriend had been fighting about how their relationship was all sex, but she hit a nerve and she knew how important it was to you... No matter how silly or childish it was...

While you were talking it caught the giant's attention... As well as his mother. And boy was she gitty about the whole situation, God had finally answered her prayers... Her sweet Tommy and a sweet person like you... Someone who will love Tommy with all theirr heart no matter what he does, or what he looks like...

Later that night when your group's can broke down and ended up at the Hewitt household, while your friends were taken down into the basement you ended up in a drug-induced sleep in Tommy's bed... His own sleeping beauty...

2K notes · View notes

wildbluesorbit · 2 months

Text

Wounded III || JTK

18+mdni

paring: jakexreader(f)

LONDON MASTERLIST

A/N: alrighty, here’s the final piece. All your words have made my first fic/series so fun and I can’t wait to give yall more:)) pretty please let me know what you think <3

Summary || You promised Jake an evening out, but you’re not certain if you can make through the night.

Content Warnings || swearing, alcoholic consumption, anger, verbal aggression, adult themes, agoraphobia, haphepobia, graphic sexual depictions

Word Count || 9.5k+

The light knock at your door sends you into a frantic spell before anyone can announce themselves and their business that miserably requires access to you and your sanctuary.

You had been doing your best to go about your routine the past few days and not dwell on the daunting date you assured Jake. You had always given him your ifs and maybes when it came to going out, but this pledged appearance was taxing your every thought.

Routine. Keep your head in routine. Just keep moving. One day at a time and all that compartmentalizing bullshit your therapists always vomit at you yet never proves useful.

The truth being no matter how you avert your attention, the dreaded moment would still come to pass. And alas, it does; arriving in the form of Jake poking his head through the door. You invite the rest of his body to join your room.

With an easy energy, Jake percolates through the doorway dressed in his signature all black deep-v button up and pleated trousers. Paired with his signature chain of doubloons and black loafers. You always find the consistency of his formulaic ensembles to be a comfort.

In the true spirit of procrastination and denial you hadn’t even conceptualized an outfit yet.

Jake instinctively gravitates towards the guitar in the corner of your room and begins to fidget with the strings, busying himself from your bed as he watches you get ready. You think maybe he fears you are going to talk yourself out of the evening or it might not come to pass if he doesn’t witness it with his own eyes.

You frantically scatter for the first outfit you can make out, dressing in a relaxed cream button blouse with mom jeans and platform oxfords. You paint your features with natural make up and throw your curls in two messy braids and lightly accessorize. You emerge back from your bathroom expecting to make out a bored Jake. Instead, you’re greeted by an empty bedroom.

You are sure you hadn’t taken too long to get ready. You simply shrug and stomp to the full body mirror. You appear just fine, yet you definitely do not feel it.

You run your sweaty hands down your jeans as Jake reappears through the door. In his hands, he clutches his navy corduroy jacket he went to retrieve. You are clueless as to what you have done in your life to deserve this man that always anticipates your next need before you do.

Jake streams across the floor towards you and unfolds the coat, lifting it in the air for you to slip your arm through. You face away from the doting man and extend your hand out as he attentively dresses you in his jacket one shoulder at a time, savoring the moment. His aroma emits from the material as you take a deep breath and tug the sleeves over your fingertips.

Glancing back in the mirror you already feel a bit better; that’s what your outfit had been missing.

You return your eyes to Jake, slinking your hands deep into the pockets of the coat as he tugs on the lapel, properly adjusting it over your shoulders; unaware of your shaking till he steadies you with the weight of his hands.

His digits travel to faintly twist the tail of one of your braids between the pads of his fingers as a smile breaks loose at the sight of you.

“You are truly a vision,” Jake’s honey eyes swivel as he indulges in every detail he can canvass, his words adorn you better than any accessory ever could, “Ready?”

You force a weak nod and dreadfully follow his giddy lead from out your bedroom, down the stairs, and towards the front door.

Of course, you freeze where you always do but this time Jake just smiles and swings the entryway wide open, sauntering out to wait for you on the other side of the threshold.

“You’re ready, I can see it,” his lips curl as he beckons you with his giant smile.

You raise an eyebrow at him from the safety of the inside, “How do you know?”

“Because in just these past few days, it's not hard to see you’re outgrowing your fears and soon you’ll become cramped with them in this house,” he offers his palm out to you.

You slip your hand into his and squeeze, clench your eyes shut, and take a deep inhale as you step from the elevated doorstep down to the porch.

You playfully puff your cheeks out to hold your breath and squint open one eye to examine your surroundings.

Jake chuckles, tugging you toward his car, “Oh? So you got jokes now?”

You anticipate the same relapse as the last time you stepped foot out your door. Everything appears the same. The autumn breeze waltzes around you the same. The birds chirp the same. The world is the same shade of fall. The same sun warms you. Yet everything that terrified you about your last excursion seems to spell you ambitious to walk further with Jake now. Maybe Jake is right and he can see something you can’t. Maybe you are ready.

You achieve the top of the driveway as Jake pilots the path to open your door and you load into the vehicle. Like a familiar episode of Deja Vu, you had almost forgotten what Jake’s car looked like: the black interior, the smell of him mixed with car leather, and of course a tricked out stereo. The sight brings you to a nostalgic giggle as you are reminded of an indecent moment or two with Jake in this very car.

The door shuts with a slam and just like that, you are alone with the terrorizing silence while Jake walks around to the driver door. Although he rejoins you within seconds, it's enough time to let panic make its presence known, like it always does.

Jake fidgets in the driver’s seat and asks you the same antsy question for the second time this evening through his restless dorky smirk, “Ready?”

You have run out of no’s for him so you force a tight lipped smile and buckle yourself, nearly flinching at the click of your seatbelt. You tug the sash as tight as possible and just pray you aren’t making a fool of yourself.

Jake pulls into a parking spot and anchors his hand on your bouncing leg. The warm sensation of his limb is what reels you in from your own anxious realm to make contact with appraising eyes. You fold your hands in your lap and manage a smile.

You can’t help the way your breath gets caught on panic, “So, everyone is just in there? Waiting on us?”

“If it's showing up wounded you’re afraid of, don’t be,” his hand seeks the lock of your seatbelt and unfastens the buckle with a click, “You tell them that's just your battle scar, angel. Don’t hide how strong you are.”

You grant Jake a slight nod in agreement. Slowly, you push your car door open and extract yourself from the vehicle one limb at a time, as if you are some fragile thing that can shatter with a single misstep. Regret looms closer and closer as you cross the parking lot and pass everyone’s car one by one, each step dragging you towards the warzone you know awaits inside. You stall as your proximity to the battlefield diminishes.

Taking notice of your dawdling, Jake shifts to tower directly in front of you. The sudden advance pounds throughout your chest and hitches your breath but you refuse to fall back. He presses his forehead to yours and coaches you through a deep breath once your eyes refocus on his caramel brown ones.

“If it gets to be too much you don’t even have to say a word,” he gingerly takes your hands in his and squeezes in a triple pattern, “just like that, and I will immediately take you home. No questions asked. Like it never happened and we can try again when you’re ready.”

You focus on your breathing and mimic the intervals in which he gripped your hands.

“Good girl, just like that,” he praises your raging seas back to stillness and checks in with you for a third and final time, “are you ready?”

You nod your head and inhale as if you could take a drag of the courage he is emitting deep into your lungs. Jake releases your limbs back to you but replaces it with his palm against the small of your back as he leads you through the entrance of the bowling alley.

You soak in the dingy fluorescent lighting and are greeted with the smell of beer, leather, and frying grease. The humble sight is paired with a cacophony of pins clunking together in their gutters as classic country pours over the sounds of cheering and laughter.

Your feet already beg to turn back towards the door.

Jake waves to the group occupying the last two lanes, only they are bowling in the farthest and using the other as a barrier of isolation. Just like Jake said. This seems to cancel out a portion of your initial panic wave.

As you follow in Jake’s bee line around pool and foosball tables you recognize Josh, Danny, and Sam waving you over, along with a few other new faces.

The two of you are serenaded by scattered hellos. His brothers each take their turns to greet you, welcoming you with warm words of how elated they are to have you with them again. Jake strategically takes the opportunity to introduce you himself to the new faces to avoid any awkward interactions and customary physical contact. He turns to you as he announces your name with the most exuberant tooth-bearing smile. The one you first witnessed in that dusty record store on Christmas Eve. The one that spelled you absolutely his by New Years. The same giant smile you now only know to exist within the walls of your bedroom during late night laughs. This is Jake in complete bliss.

The beaming smile fades out as he goes to retrieve shoes for the two of you and is replaced by a flood of new ones belonging to his brothers as they catch up with you.

As your welcome parade dies down, your eyes immediately hunt for Jake seeking comfort, already approaching overstimulation. You see him off to the side of the lane’s designated sitting area, discreetly speaking with Sam. Jake’s hand finds its place on his hip and it occurs to you this exchange is one of hostility. Sam presents some unstable defense, eliciting an eye roll and a scoff from his older brother. Ultimately, you witness Jake give into whatever Sam’s plea might be as he heads back towards you with the shoes.

You timidly prompt Jake to tell you what is bothering him when he resides back to your orbit, sitting next to you on the bench.

“Nothing, Sam did something stupid but it doesn't matter anymore,” he looks down as he unconvincingly dismisses your question.

Wavy tresses that normally frame his face, curtain his features as he lets his head hang.

You lightly tug on one of the dangling coffee-brown strands to bring your favorite honey eyes back to your line of sight and give him a heartening smirk, “But you’ll tell me when it does, right?”

His burdened face breaks back to bliss as he tucks a rogue curl behind your ear, “Yes, of course.”

Jake lets his hand linger and for a second you are revisited by the marvelous familiarity of that time with Jake before Nashville.

The rental shoes hit the floor with a light thud as Jake lets them drop beside you. He relieves you of any obligation to participate knowing that you might not be up for it yet.

Grateful doesn’t even scratch the surface of how Jake is able to read you when you aren’t sure how to articulate yourself. You agree, telling him to check back next round.

After a few cycles of everyone’s turns you notice a peculiar pattern in Jake’s behavior. After every play the bowler would return to the lane, showered by hoots and hollers of praise and glory from your friends. This includes Jake, all except for when it came to the welcome of one person.

A girl. She is tall and lean with a long auburn bob, graced by delicate cartoon features and olive skin. Earlier she introduced herself as Claudia.

Everyone cheered upon her return to the kingdom. But not Jake. He did not shout. He did not clap. He did not smile. If she so much as let her gaze fall in your direction he would clench his jaw and check on you. Everytime single time. Like a tick.

You slide your hand on Jake’s mid thigh and rest your head against his shoulder. You feel him almost spooked by your touch. Other than when he came home earlier this week, you are rarely one to seek ease in his touch. You usually avoid all physical contact but especially are never the one to initiate it. However, Jake leans into you once your intention occurs to him.

You tilt your mouth up towards his ear so only he could hear your notion, “That’s her? Isn’t it?”

The muscle of his jaw protrudes at the very mention and he places his hand over yours, “I didn’t want to cause any commotion to further overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. More than anything or anyone, I’m just happy you're here.”

You didn’t have a word for the strange sensation that followed being in her presence. Someone you thought you’d never meet. Someone you hoped to never meet. To put a name and face to the horror story of some wicked stranger who heartlessly spun your trauma without remorse between her fingers. Someone who wielded your weaknesses as a weapon to torment Jake. To turn the only man you trust against you without so much as a motive.

You are interrupted by the already buzzed boys asking for requests as they obnoxiously announce they’re headed towards the bar. Just as Jake’s brothers become absent, the girl with the auburn hair lifts herself from the opposite bench to head towards the restrooms, but not before the flashes you a sly smirk and cheekily waves and winks at Jake. She then swiftly disperses into the ladies room.

The grisly sound of Jake’s teeth grinding invades your ears as he shifts in his seat from physically cringing in outrage.

He growls through his clenched jaw, “That’s enough. I’m going to say something to that fucking prick.”

You discourage him, “No, Jake, please. It’s fine. Don’t give her the reaction she so blatantly wants. Seriously.”

“She fucking with us- she’s fucking with you,” he struggles to not to raise his voice and remain still in his seat.

“I know, but my goal is only to get through tonight,” you try to make him understand beyond his momentary red.

“She’s only going to get braver-,” he surveys your face and cuts himself off with an indecipherable flicker, “Fine, but only because you asked.”

He settles back in his seat appearing fine, his only tell being one leg vigorously bouncing up and down.

Jake seems to cool off though once his brothers are right back with beer and distractions. Claudia eventually returns from the restroom and you do your best to ignore her.

You reticently watch the boys bowl from your reserved spectator bench and ardently listen as they delight you with funny stories of what has happened since the last time they caught up with you. Your vigilance actually begins to wane and you feel yourself seeping into a plane of comfort and ease of enjoyment.

That is until you're being dragged back into reality by Claudia calling your name.

She casually accosts you with the loaded question, as if she is addressing the weather, “So I’m told you moved here from London, what brought you to the states?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. She knows exactly where the trigger is. Your shortest fuse to a spiral. You have no idea why Claudia is gunning for you, just that she is doing it well.

You feel Jake’s subtle touch to your knee and place your hand over him and squeeze.

One.

Your cheeks glow red as you burn alive.

“Well- I-,” you squeak out, “just needed a change of scenery.”

Pleased with the results of her game, Claudia continues, “Interesting. Well, tell me, why our little city? What’s Nashville hold for you? Other than your friend, Jake.”

Your hand clenches around Jake’s once more.

Two.

You feel Jake shift in anticipation, waiting for your third and final squeeze; a bull pawing before his charge. If Jake had his way he would have already put Claudia in her place and left. But he knows this night belongs to you and should be your decision, but you freeze.

In an instant, Jake discreetly turns his head to your ear, the decibel of his encouragement is hardly audible in its lull, “I’m so proud of you no matter how this night ends.”

Proud? Jake is proud of you? You had never really stopped to think about how he might perceive you.

In the midst of your storm you never sought past how he made you feel. You assumed he regards you with compassion and patience and loves you despite being this broken mess because that’s how he made you feel.

Never once did it occur to you that when Jake looks at you, it would be with eyes full of pride.

It isn’t until now that you fully realize how he craves you. It is clear he longs for your recovery and happiness and hungers to have you to himself. But you understand now he yearns for the time he had you in his corner. He aches to experience life with you, like the two of you used to. To walk into a room with you by his side and show you off and indulge in your presence. To be your equal. To be your partner. Though he loves to come home to you and regale you with stories of the road, more than anything he wishes to make you smile by recalling a shared memory instead. He misses who he is with you. But he wouldn’t dare confess such a selfish thought amongst your recent fragility.

You remove your hand from Jake’s and strain a cordial smile across your face.

You're terrified to stay but terrified to retreat. You fear if you go home now you might not ever leave again. And that is not an option. More than ever, you’re now miserably aware you can no longer survive without the courage that would dawn at the burning end of this anguishing night, you only need to push through.

You will your words to wield an ostensible confidence you do not possess, “Well actually this is probably my favorite thing to do anywhere, just spend time with loved ones. So why not Nashville?”

Before she can get in another word Josh returns from the lane and Jake curtly alerts Claudia it is her turn.

After that game ends everyone decides on one more for the night. Jake attempts to sit this round out but you insist he play and so he does. Although it does not take much convincing on your end.

He plays his turns briefly, immediately finding his seat next to you every time. He avoids all contact with Claudia and is mindful to keep you stimulated with conversation rather than your surroundings.

He hums, “So, what did you do for a whole week while I was gone, hmm?”

“I went outside for a walk,” you had almost forgotten to tell him, your brain had repressed the memory.

“Oh,” his tone turns up in genuine surprise, “How was that?”

Even though Jake has seen you through so much ugly, you still carry the small failures with a backbreaking shame.

“I ran back inside,” you grimace.

His brows knit together and bites his lip, “Were you alright after?”

You look down at your fidgeting hands in your lap and click your tongue, “That was the night you came home.”

He rests his pointer finger under your chin to raise your eyes back to his, “Well, all that matters is you’re here now. Even if you hadn’t come tonight, you’ve already overcome so much. And I know I’ve said it already but I’m proud of you.”

You don’t even have a chance to process his adulation as Claudia ambushes your bubble from her seat a few feet away.

“Enough chit-chat. You’re up, Zookeeper,” she smugly addresses the man beside you.

And just like that, everything all at once is consumed by swelling flames of a long-repressed scorching temper.

She must think she's so slick. She must think she is so fucking clever. She must assume you wouldn’t understand her reference. That no one would dare tell little frail you of her verbal assailments.

Or maybe she does hope you catch on. Maybe she thinks you’ll run and hide.

To your own surprise she isn’t so lucky.

Without so much as a moment’s sense or contemplation, venom commandeers your tongue and spurts past your lips and any prior inhibitions, “So just how big does the stick up your ass have to be in order for you to be such a raging bitch?”

She, along with everyone else within earshot, surrenders their aghast attention to you. Claudia's face is now painted with a red blaze. It's obvious she did not think you were going to burst from your timid and socially safe box, no one did.

She springs straight up and crosses her arms from her place on the opposing bench, “Excuse me?!”

Though you had been keeping to yourself you had been paying attention to the game. She couldn’t have hit more than 10 pins the whole time you’ve been here.

You reload your gun and fire off another round, “Is that also the reason you can’t bowl or are you just doing that for attention like everything else?”

Her face creases in bewilderment as she jumps to her feet, “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Her attack stance has concerningly no effect on your newly ballsy demeanor. Jake doesn’t say a word but the way he stands to mimic Claudia’s body language speaks volume enough. She relaxes a bit but is still ready to pounce.

“Oh, I apologize,” you feign a pout, “I forgot you probably can’t hear very well with your head so far up your ass. Let me speak up.”

The distant sounds of snorting laughter and Sam choking on his drink as he spits it out reminds you of where you are.

A pang of guilt ceases your fire. You had given Claudia exactly what she wanted, but now it looked as if it was more than she could handle.

Normally, this would indicate victory. The old you would have basked in Claudia’s dumbfounded state. But now for some reason, you aren’t able to stomach making her feel any worse than you already have.

You back down from your reign and feel your face heat a bright red. Jake holds his hand out to gesture you to stand from the bench. As soon as you take it he squeezes three times and pulls you to your feet.

In all the ways you saw tonight ending, you definitely did not predict Jake being the one to call it quits.

He turns on his heels to address his brothers and friends, “Well, it’s getting kind of late so I suppose we should head home,” his shit-eating grin finds Claudia before she can regain any kind of composure, “We’ve had quite a lot of excitement for one night!”

You only have enough time to grab your purse and motion a goodbye to Jake’s brothers before he whisks you away from the wake of madness you had created.

Once in the shelter of Jake’s vehicle he asks if you’re okay. You respond with a disingenuous yes and neither of you whisper a word to each other for the rest of the car ride home.

You speed through your nightly regimen as if the sooner you shut your eyes the sooner the tides of slumber would wash over you and rinse away the day.

Yet you lay restless in your bed. You toss and turn, pleading for sleep to come but you’re convinced your prayers must have gotten lost.

After what feels like hours, you slip out of bed and throw on an oversized shirt and a pair of worn sweats you stole from Jake. You scamper about, not even certain of what you’re searching for until a tangible task to occupy your idle hands presents itself. You never thought you’d be grateful to arrive at a kitchen sink harboring dirty dishes. You fill the sink with hot water and soap and begin to scrub away.

Your laborious act is rewarded by the complete consumption of your thoughts. Your focus is on the cleanliness of the plates only.

That is until you hear the clinking of glass on the bar cart across the kitchen. You don’t even bother to avert yourself from the chore; you know it’s Jake pouring himself a late night drink.

You dare to ask the question first before Jake can pry, “I know why I’m still up, but why are you?”

“Well, I was in bed until someone decided now would be a great time to do the dishes,” you hear the ice in his drink clatter against the glass.

You attempt to scrub quieter but don’t actually stop.

Jake has no regard for subtly as he dives right into what he knows is terrorizing you sleepless, “I thought you handled tonight fine.”

“I wasn’t ready for- I shouldn’t have-” you hesitate for a moment before continuing the dishes rather than your train of thought.

You hear Jake’s tone slightly pick up, “Shouldn’t have what? Shouldn’t have stood up for yourself? Should have let that cunt walk all over you?”

“Jake-”

You can hear his boiling frustrations begin to erupt past his control again, “No- I'm glad you handled yourself that way! She would have just kept bulldozing!”

You pointlessly try to illustrate your crime, “I stooped to her level-“

Yet he has no desire to understand your fault, his hand not responsible for his glass flying through the air to cut you off, “She deserved it!”

You suddenly feel queasy at the night’s recap, almost dropping the dish you are holding from fatigue, “Jacob, were we even in the same room?! I mean, did you see the look on her face? How can I expect understanding for my pain and trauma and then go and make someone else feel like that?”

The kitchen fell into a still silence, the only audible signs of life being the dying suds in the sink and a remorseful huff from Jake. In his rooting for your full recovery, it hadn’t occurred to him that you might not want to return to everything you once were, including your existing flaws.

A crackled feedback of speakers introduces itself to the air, indicating Jake connected his music to the sound system throughout the kitchen. A soft blue melody pours from the stereo, confirming your assumption as you feel him come from behind you.

He nimbly removes the plate from your grip and places it to soak in the soapy sink water. He takes the nearest dish rag in his hand and delicately dries yours off before placing them around his back, leaning in to curl his arms around your afflicted stature.

Wallowing in your fresh wounds, you naturally resist when he begins swaying you back and forth with the rhythm of the music.

His speech abandons all previous conviction it carried seconds earlier as he softly prays, “Come on, I’m sorry I got upset with you, angel. Dance with me please? It’s been so long.”

You loosen your demeanor and sway with Jake, always wanting to grant him yes on the small things you could.

He accepts your movement as his exoneration and continues to candy you with kind words, “You know, I had no clue what I was in for the first time I laid eyes on you. No clue how in over my head I was- No clue I’d get to feel this way about you.”

As he feels you further give into his motions, he places his hand in the dip of your waist to properly waltz you about the kitchen. With his opposite he tucks your stray bedhead hairs behind your ear and gives you a small tight lipped smirk. His smile is one that you have yet to deny so you wrap your arms around his shoulders and follow his feet, fully accepting your fate.

You rest your head to his bare clavicle as a familiar steel guitar resonates throughout your kitchen. The smallest chuckle escapes him as he begins to hum along with the melody.

Why are you still crying?

Your pain is now through

Please, forget those teardrops

Let me take them from you

The love you are blessed with

This world's waiting for

So, let out your heart please, please

From behind that locked door

Still whirling around the kitchen tile to the swaying melody, Jake fully presses against you and rests his chin atop the crown of your head. Left. Right. Right. Left. Just like the first time on that New Year's Eve. Just like he taught you.The recording blends with Jake as he begins to fully sing along with George Harrison.

It's time we start smiling

What else should we do?

With only this short time

I'm gonna be here with you

And the tales you have taught me

From the things that you saw

Makes me want out your heart, please, please

From behind that locked door

You’re not sure if you’re overwhelmed from the evening’s events or maybe it's Jake singing along with former Beatle’s kind words, but something inside you breaks as your face begins to stream warm with tears. You cling to Jake and hide your face in his chest like a scared child. He holds you steady as you quake under his arms.

A sharp sob breaks out of you and into his flesh, “I miss me too, Jake! I want to come home to you more than anything.”

“I know,” his voice is a calm surface, contradicting his heart pounding erratically under your cheek, “but you’re going to be alright. You will heal, I can feel it. All in good time, angel.”

You fight to steady your speech against hiccuping breaths, “I’ve never fought this hard. It’s never been this dark before, Jake! How do you know that I haven’t burnt out and this is what's left of me? How do you know I’m not stuck this way?”

He answers without a moment’s hesitation, as if he had rehearsed his words and held onto them for a thousand years, “Because, angel, I’ve seen so many places and people and there is only one of you. You’re a marigold. An eternal flame. A rey of light bestowed to me by the sun herself. Your’s is not an energy that can be demolished.”

You squeeze your arms around his neck tighter, abolishing any unwelcome space between the two of you.

Jake caresses small soothing circles against the small of your back, “Whenever you’re ready, I love you now and I'm ready to love whoever you are going to be.”

There are those words again. Words you hadn’t spoken to him till you blurted them out in a half-conscious panicked confession. Words he hadn’t dared speak to you since London. But here he is confirming his love for you in the midst of your wounds and extending it to the woman you would be after they healed.

Swept in your own existential whirlwind, your fingertips mindlessly explore the warmth of his exposed skin as you tilt your head up and close in to his face to appreciate his delicate features there. He realizes you are searching for his lips before you do. Jake lowers his head to help you achieve your hunt, brushing the tip of his nose over the peak of your top lip and across your wet cheek until his warm breath hovers over yours. You swear hours must pass when you finally feel his lips press into yours but not in a kiss, more like he is relearning your mouth, trying to recall your taste before savoring it. Taking the time to survive on the same air, waiting for you to give in.

Heedlessly, you rush against him, lips plush as you remember. As if you are magnetic, Jake’s starving hands fly to cradle your jaw, his thumbs caressing your cheeks and swiping the rolling tears away.

Your appetite swells quickly and you push your weight into Jake until he slowly backs into the nearest kitchen countertop, eliciting a hum that tickles your lips. You stretch on your tiptoes to better reach his hungry mouth. He immediately wraps his hands into the curve of your waist and shifts to lift you on the counter. Jake’s lips never leave yours as he plops you down on the espresso wooden slab.

His tongue graces your lips and you promptly grant him access. He impatiently laps into your mouth as his touch further constricts around your midriff. You feel his starved fingers fighting not to venture across your skin.

Finally, all at once Jake reignites your desire. Like someone turned on the light in a dark room you had been stuck in. Suddenly, you remember where you are and what you had been doing in that room, like you picked up exactly where you left off.

Jake has been your only shelter in this storm. He has put you back together so many times now and remained patient every step of the way. He took care of you in London when he could have looked the other way and nobody, including yourself, would have known. He hauled you away from the monsters Europe held for you. He’s been your only friend and liberation when you couldn’t even escape the very walls of your bedroom. If your malaise hadn’t warded him off yet nothing would.

You finally recognize Jake isn’t leaving. He always says it, but it seemed like this abstract concept, but he is here in front of you still voracious for more even after all he has witnessed.

His devotion is now this tangible thing.

You can see it in the way he looks at you and fights for you. You feel it in the way his fingers grace your skin and hands grab at you. Hear it in the way he sings your name and groans in restraint to devour you. Taste it on his bourbon and peach velvet tongue. Jake is not going anywhere and he’s not going to hurt you.

You depart from his lips to catch your breath and contemplate if this is solid ground or a passive breeze. You retrieve his hand from where it is clasped around your waist, calloused, heavy, extending much longer and thicker than your own digits. You run your fingertips over his knuckles studying the lines there, fidgeting because you’re uncertain how to articulate the arrival of your long awaited craving.

Jake's eyes grow wide, terrified he's done something wrong, “I’m sorry! I don’t-”

“Jake, I want you,” you can’t even stand to hear him finish.

His breath hitches at your words, “No, it's alright. You don’t have anything to prove to me. Tonight has been more than enough.”

It has been months since the two of you have touched each other. He was more than satisfied to just be near you and he did not want to lose or confuse or overwhelm you.

You wrap the material of his shirt around your fingers and tug him in close once more, not even letting the sting of his rejection sink in, “Jake I need to feel you again.”

Still gripping the half open button down, you commandeer his exposed neck to your reckless mouth. He growls a, “Fuck,” into the open air as you begin to kiss, lap, nibble and suck his salty skin.

He groans as you mark his collarbone, “Are you sure, Angel?”

You whisper your third consent into his ear and without a beat missed Jake whisks you off the counter. Your feet barely meet the tile before he's grabbing your hand and ushering you out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and down the frigid dark hall till you reach his bedroom door.

He twists the knob and the hinges groan as he pushes the entrance open for you. You take your time entering his room, your fuzzy socks slipping and sliding on the hardwood floor over to his bed. You sit, sinking into the soft mattress and place your hands in your lap as he turns on his salt lamp, illuminating the room in a coat of warm light.

Your favorite smile grows wild on his face at the sight of you waiting for him on his bed. The elated man hurries over and presses a quick kiss to you before he places his hands on the tops of your thighs.

He levels himself with your line of sight, his every word carrying what seems to be the weight of the world, “You’re in control here. You say the word and it is my command.”

You whisper a rushed yes and he pulls you back to your feet, gripping your hips. He once again envelopes your lips in his, but this time it is sweet and slow. There is no haste, no power dynamic, only the two of you basking in the warm essence of the other.

He swings your hips closer to him and you feel his hard bulge press into your stomach. Jake's fingers scatter for the hem of your shirt. Hips not daring to leave you, his torso repels in order to slip your top off, exposing your goosebump ridden skin and breasts to his soft eyes and brisk air of the room.

You in turn, undo the few done up buttons of his shirt. You lean into him to slip the sleeves off his shoulders, your lips catching along the muscle of his jaw as you undress him.

His hands travel down your sides and slip under the waistband of your sweats, his warmth buzzing across your cool skin. He traces the curve of your hips under the fleece material and migrates to grab your ass until your feet have left the hardwood floor and locked around his back.

At this new angle he laps one of your erect nipples into his velvet mouth with ease and your whimper floats into the room. He groans with a mouth full of your tit as your hands slip into his tousled hair and tug, the vibrations rippling through you and straight to your core as he hums against your pebbled breasts.

He staggers, carrying you till he reaches his bed and leans to lay you down on your back. Jake casts his face over your pelvis and begins to slowly tug down your sweats, pressing his mouth to every newly unenveloped inch of your skin as it peeks out from behind the material being pulled down further and further. Jake’s open mouth kisses trail your hips, thighs, and down to your ankles, tossing the pants somewhere on the floor near his closet after he’s fully removed your pajamas.

He brings his knees up to the mattress and props himself over you, crawling till his mouth is hovering over yours again. He looks down between your bodies as he drags his faint touch below your naval, over your mound, and slips through your folds to feather your clit.

He swallows your moan as you are reintroduced to his kiss. You struggle to stay still as his loving fingers press into your labia till he finds your entrance. You swear you are far more sensitive since the last time he touched you, almost as if this is the first time he’s had you.

He pulls away from your mouth to gingerly check in with you, “This is okay, babygirl?”

“Fuck- more than okay,” you breathlessly whimper against his pink pout.

At your reassurance he inserts a long finger inside you, relishing in the way you squirm underneath him.

“Please- Jake, more,” you’re already begging.

Without any hesitation he inserts his middle fingers and watches as he starts pumping his digits in and out of you, glistening in your slick.

He begins a beeline of open-mouth kisses down the valley of your breasts and past your belly button. He reaches your slit and slightly parts them to suck your clit into his mouth, swirling his warm plush tongue around the swollen bud.

He returns his fingers, this time curling them up inside you, causing your hips to buck towards his face. The lewd sounds of Jake lapping your clit and fucking you with his fingers fills your head. He moans into you as you writhe in his hard-working mouth.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer,” you desperately command, “Jake, I- fuck, baby- I need you.”

“Just be patient, angel, let me take care you,” he croons against your bundle of nerves, “I’ve- I’ve waited so long for you.”

Jake continues drilling into you, his thick fingers pumping inside you and velvet tongue fluttering against your clit. All at once, your climax sneaks up on you, a drive by of ecstasy, sweeter than you could ever remember or commit to memory. Your legs cut off Jake’s air supplying, squeezing around him till you tremble and you cum right into his mouth without so much as a warning.

But he refuses to cease his oral attack on you. Instead, he continues to consume you at a painfully dizzy pace. You hardly register the symphony of your own whimpers and slurping of Jake sloppily eating you out.

“Fuck! Ja- I- Please, Jake, I need to feel you inside me,” you restively whine through your overstimulation.

Like you’ve casted a spell on Jake, his mouth and fingers part from you without another word. Though the dark of his eyes and furrow of his brows tell you a story of struggle; if Jake had his way, his head would still be lost between your shaking thighs.

He steps to the floor to shimmy out of his pants and boxers to free the pretty pink cock you are desperate for. You watch his hard length bob about as he hops right back on the mattress.

He wraps his hands around your ankles and pushes them in toward you to bend your knees upward. Jake admiringly watches his own hands run along your shins and up your thighs until he stops and squeezes at the thick of them. He spreads your legs open to gain access to your inner thigh and presses more kisses and nibbles there.

When his lips reach your folds Jake laps his tongue though for one last taste before he pulls away to gravitate his core closer to your dripping center. His consuming touch leaves you to grab his cock, collecting the gloss at his tip to pump his hand over himself a few times before pressing his painfully pink head to your lips.

You gasp in pure anticipation and whimper when Jake flicks his throbbing tip over your swollen clit. Lining himself up to your entrance, he looks back to you one last time for your consent.

He rests his arms down beside you to anchor himself in your atmosphere and rasps in your ear, “Ready, angel?”

“I’ve never wanted this more, Jake,” you pant out against his neck.

At your cue, he thrusts his hips into you and hisses in your ear. Your drawn out moan sounds through the room as your cunt welcomingly stretches for Jake.

He looks at you with curious eyes, concerned if you’re still comfortable.

You run a gentle finger along his hairline before brushing the rest through his chestnut waves and nod, “I’m okay, baby, you can move.”

You see relief flash on his face but it is quickly replaced by something else when he plunges deep inside you to the hilt. Jake begins to pump himself in and out of you at a deliciously slow rhythm.

This is so different from anything you’ve ever done with him. Fooling around with Jake had always been some thrilling primitive game. And while this moment is still animalistic, it is also raw and real and sweet and tender. The two of you taking care of each other. The two of you a union.

You are consumed by Jake; he is the only thing you can see, feel, taste, smell, and hear. You can’t recall a moment before him or see a thing beyond. Everything belongs to him. At this moment Jake could do no wrong.

He speeds his pace up and laps a stripe across your neck, “Oh fuck- I missed you, pretty girl.”

The only words you could find were babbled moans.

Praises absent of any satire or malice, he coos, “Oh, someone likes being called pretty? Well good because you are. You’re the prettiest girl.”

Without any real ideation, the desire blurts out of you, “Jake- Fuck- want to be your pretty girl, Jake!”

Both of you caught off guard by the demand, he pulls away from his work on your ear and his hips stall in divided attention. Jake blinks at you wide-eyed, waiting for some redirection of blood flow back to his brain to process your words. You swallow down your mournful whine that follows the loss of momentum, knowing you brought it on.

You are summoned back to coherency by the rasping of your name as he blesses your face with kisses, “You want to be my pretty little thing? Want me to make you all mine?”

Fully wrapping his mind around the concept, his strokes return harder and faster. That familiar sweltering pressure you’ve missed begins to burn in your pelvis, rolling your eyes back.

A stuttered moan is all you can manage, “Yes- Please, Jake!”

Jake brings his hand to cup your chin, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip and slows his hips yet again to bring you back to earth, “I need to hear you say it, angel.”

You open your eyes to meet his dark chocolate irises and focus all your energy into gathering your words, “Yes, Jake. I’m yours and I want you to be all mine.”

You are graced with the sight of that giant smile of his, of which he presses to your lips and attempts to kiss you through his teeth baring elation.

He then swings his hips back to a mind numbing pace.

He can’t help the audible smirk in his demands, “Good girl. Now, will my baby cum for me?”

Your only acknowledgement to his request is a broken stream of moans, whimpers, and muttered swears as he swivels his hips, hitting the spot only he ever manages to find.

You are rendered to a puddle of incoherent begging, “Please, Ja- Baby- Fuck- I love you, Jacob, don’t stop!”

You feel your second climax begging to burn through you like a good smoke. With every swing of Jake’s hips, you inhale his saccharine nicotine deep into your lungs and puff him out, only to drag him in again. A sweet slowburn of ashes till you turn out.

Jake begins to thrust inside you even faster and reaches a hand down to rub your clit. You’re lifted by his gravity, arching your back as your pussy begins to contort around him.

“Fuck- do that again, babe,” he hisses in ecstasy, “squeeze me and tell me that you love me when you cum. Please?”

His begging is enough to set off your release. You try your best to look at him but your eyes roll back as the tension in your stomach bursts in a white heat. You feel that electric buzz in your chest ripple throughout you. Your only tether to reality is fulfilling Jake’s sweet need.

You squeeze your walls around Jake as tight as you can, sinking him even further inside you as your rasped confession breaks against involuntary moans and squeals, “Fuck- Ja- I love you so much- Jake! I didn’t even know- it was possible to- to be so consumed by one person. I love- I love you, Jacob!”

He fights to remain composed, coaching you down from your high as he approaches his, “Easy, princess, I’ve got- I got you. I’ve missed you so bad, baby, please let me have it.”

Your senses become bombarded by overstimulation as you finish on his twitching cock inside you but remain attentive to help Jake finish. You know he is close when his hips begin to sputter.

You buck your hips upwards to finish his motions and clench around him one last time as you feel his cock jerking inside you. Jake’s eyes flutter shut and his head drops to your shoulder as slack jaw mutters your name like a swear. Jake slips a hand under your head to cradle you closer as he fights though his final stokes.

You take the opportunity to start sucking and kissing encouragement against his neck, “Come on, baby boy. You’re so good to me. I want all of you, Jake. Want to feel full of you. Want to love you.”

Your serenade shoves him over the edge and his bruising grip sears into your hip bone as he lets go. With a blissed out grunt of your name, you feel his release coat your walls and fill you.

He collapses on to you, his weight sinking you further into the soft mattress. You wish to exist in this amber lit moment forever, convinced the weight of Jake’s head and rhythm of him catching his breath against your shoulder is the safest shelter you’d ever find.

You wrap your arms around Jake to rub his glossy back, still heaving in recovery. He hums underneath your jaw and begins to lazily kiss the muscle there. The two of you seem to exist in your own plane before Jake breaks the silence, telling you to stay put while runs to fetch you a warm rag.

Upon his arrival you grab the cloth from Jake, his eyes devouring the scandalous scene you are cleaning him from your dripping thighs. You catch his ravenous stare and fold the rag to the opposite side. You earn a beaming smile and bashful giggle from Jake as you begin to gently swipe away at the beads of sweat that decorate his glistening face.

He nuzzles into your touch, allowing you for once to care for him. But as you clean him, Jake catches your hand in his to cease your movements. You witness a short scene of grief and guilt play across the very features you were just nursing.

“Was it- not-,” you can’t string your sentence together to bare the thought of Jake regretting his actions.

“No- No- That was- I’m so glad we- Its just- It reminded me of the last-,” he scrambles for his words as a few thoughts try to make their way all at once.

You squeeze his hand still in yours and tend to his uncertainty with a smile of reassurance, “Jake?”

He reflects your gesture, taking a deep breath before putting his concern to words this time, "I never apologized for the way I treated you."

Out of all the things you expected Jake to confess in this moment, an apology is certainly not one, "What the hell are you talking about, Jacob? You have nothing to apologize for. You've been nothing but good to me."

He shakes his head with a slight chuckle, indicating you misunderstood, "No- I meant before your move to Nashville. I was just- I was cruel to you and I'm so sorry for what happened between us."

It seems like lifetimes ago, you almost want to giggle at Jake’s amends, having already made up for it in more than a million ways, "Well, trust me, you have more than made up for it. And we are finding our way back now."

Jake pulls you into him for another kiss as he presses a small chuckle and that pretty smile into your lips before scooping you off the bed and into his arms. You devoutly wrap your limbs around Jake to stabilize yourself as he playfully peppers your skin with quick pecks and carries you to the bath he had already started running.

He slowly lets you down to the floor and checks the temperature of the water. Once he is satisfied, he ties up his hair while stepping into the tub. Jake sits and settles his back against the wall before extending his hand up to guide you in. You utilize Jake for balance as your feet dip into the steaming water. You twist away from your guide as the rest of you sinks into the warm bath, replicating his movements.

Jake’s arm grips the lip of the tub as an anchor when the other wraps around your waist as he tugs you into him, your back flush against his chest. You let your head fall against his shoulder to find his lips yet again. A blissed out sigh slips from Jake and tickles your cheek.

Your call comes out smaller than you intend, “Jake?”

His only acknowledgement is a vague hum as he tucks his face away in your neck.

You timidly purpose, “No more games, right?”

You only receive another fatigued hum in agreement, “Of course. No more games.”

You proceed to pry for an answer he's already given in ten thousand different tongues, “Be honest with me? You meant what you said? Or was it the high of the moment?”

“I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to but you should know I have a girlfriend now,” he giggles at himself into your skin, having not removed himself from your neck.

You roll your eyes at Jake. You know he is merely teasing you but you do not have the courage to ask twice.

Jake pries himself from you to grab the tan bar soap and lather it in his vast calloused hands. The smell of vanilla and patchouli shamefully teleports you back to days he had to help you bathe.

He runs the suds down your arms and speaks softly against the shell of your ear, “I meant every syllable.”

Jake rakes his fingers against the skin of your forearms before he places his stretched out hand below your open palms, your limbs posing so helpless and dainty in comparison to his.

He studies the size difference before interlocking your fingers and bringing them to his lips, “This is all I’ve ever wanted. And now it's finally mine.”

Jake places your hands back in your lap to retrieve more soap.

He lathers the suds around your torso and slightly presses his finger into the meat of your stomach, “This is mine.”

You giggle and he continues, the goofy smile plastered on his face audible in his tone.

Jake wraps his digits, finger by finger around your waist, “And this is mine.”

He spreads the suds up across your breast, massaging them and running his knuckles along your nipples as he lightly teases, “I’m very pleased to say these are now mine.”

With his fingertip, he blazes a trail along your clavicle, his lips following the route as he adds, “and this.”

With his hands still on your shoulder he lightly guides your weight forward to gain access to your back. He sweeps your half drenched raven locks above your head and grabs a tie from the tub caddy to place your hair up. His digits meet your shoulder blade and flutter down your back in lawless streaks.

You know he is tracing exactly where your scars are. The scars you’d hardly seen, avoiding them in the mirror at all costs, but you know exactly where the tissue lies.

Jake feels you cringe underneath his touch but doesn’t let you squirm from his reach.

He places his pink lips to the discolored welts there, kissing blessings and vows to your scarred flesh, “And this- I want all of this too.”

His mouth continues up your neck, biting and lapping until he reaches your jaw. Jake places his fingertips on your chin and tilts your head towards a full body mirror across from the tub, directing your vision to your reflection.

“And this stunningly gorgeous face, the one I see everytime I close my eyes,” he punctuates every word with a kiss to your eyelashes, the tip of your nose, and cheeks, “All you see is mine."

He finally reunites with your lips, “And I am irrevocably and absolutely yours. You are all I’ve ever wanted. I am so in love with you, baby.”

thank you so much for reading, pretty please let me know what you think🫶🏼

taglist❤️‍🩹 - @ageofbajabule @alwaysonthemend @anythingforjtk @becinabubblegvf @dancingcarbon @dannys-dream @dayumclarizzel @do-it-jakey-baby @dont-go-home-without-me @edgingthedarkness @fomopheobe @gretasfallingsky @gretavangirlie @gretavanglimmers @gretavangroupie @gvf23 @gvfmarge @hannahrk @heckingfrick @hollyco @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @jakeysbuttsheeks @lipstickitty @littleficsworld @livkiszka @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @mountain-in-springtime @mrbrownstne @nina-23-45 @notjordie-gvf @smoking-jakelane @sparrowofthedawnsworld @kiszkas-canvas @takenbythemadness @thewritingbeforesunrise @fuckyoutommie @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @violet-hayes @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

105 notes · View notes

ponder-the-orb · 2 months

Text

Ardently

Pairing: Fem Tav/Gale

Tags: 18+, Hurt/Comfort, smut and angst, Act 2 romance scene

Word count: 4.7K

Summary:

When the dust of his sacrifice has long since cooled and tales of this adventure are strummed by the city’s bards, Gale cares not if his involvement boils down to one line. The wizard that made his mistakes have meaning. It’s her version of the story that matters. The one she’ll keep to herself. The one that years in the future, she may find herself thinking of on quieter nights. That amongst the blood and steel and dirt, she’ll remember softer lips, careful hands, the shape of fireside stories told with words long since forgotten. And hopefully, when those memories flicker just right, that she was loved desperately and completely.

Even if the face of the man who’d said it has been worn away.

♥・。.。*♥*。.。·*♥*·。.。*♥*·。.。*♥*。.。·*♥

Can you truly fit a lifetime of love into just one night?

♥・。.。*♥*。.。·*♥*·。.。*♥*·。.。*♥*。.。·*♥

Read on AO3 or below.

“I’m no Goddess.”

“Yes you are. Trust me, I would know.”

There’s a small cluster of freckles that trail from behind Tav’s ear and down the hollow of her throat. Gale traces each one with his finger, following the shift of her body as she turns into him. He replaces his finger with his mouth, brushing back and forth to the open fastening of her collar until her neck flushes a darker pink.

Her answering breath kisses against his ear, her fingers pulling his hair just hard enough that he sees flashes of gold behind his eyelids.

Never has he been more grateful that the summoned bed they’re tangled in doesn’t need concentration to maintain. It’s a small gesture on his part- something to anchor them to a fleeting sense of normality amongst the chill of the shadow curse. If he keeps his eyes to her face and his hands cupped to her skin, they can forget the claws of the world beyond and just be.

She pulls his mouth back to hers and his tongue brushes the seam of her lips. There’s a lingering note of something rich there- a glass of raided wine or brandy perhaps. It’s an unexpected detail, one he’d have missed had they indulged in his original plan for the night. He’d been more than ready to make love to her amongst the breath of the stars, manipulate the fabric of reality around them and wring pleasures from her until their very souls were sated. And yet she’d simply taken his hand, looked at him with a feeling that almost felt too heavy for his shoulders and said that she wanted him as he is.

And if there’s one thing Gale is, it’s thorough.

He drags her clothed thigh to his hip and presses her harder into the mattress.

If he can’t please her with his magic then he can damn well do it with his body- loving her in every way they can both imagine until she’s flushed and perfectly spent in his arms. He’d thought about it enough anyway, more and more with each passing day until he’d felt less wizard and more besotted school boy.

It’s curious, he’d thought at first, how memories of his Goddess, so heavy and cold in their intensity could be eclipsed by such achingly mortal desires. The vision of Tav’s kiss in the weave had seared itself so thoroughly into his brain that he could scarcely watch her speak without wondering about the taste of her lips.

And on hotter nights, the taste of her body as well.

“Wait- the poster curtains,” she gasps as his hand wanders under her shirt. When his lips don’t leave hers, she pulls him back and gestures to the open fields around them.

Ah. Privacy. Something he’d been far too pleasantly distracted to remember. He quickly turns around and waves them shut, his summoned aurora disappearing behind the thick drapes.

As do his words when he faces her again.

Tav sits back against the cushions. She’s shadowed in the dimmer light but quite clearly completely naked.

The question of how she was able to do that dies on his tongue as he takes her in. He’d witnessed stars crash down like diamonds in the astral sea and magic born anew in the heart of Elysium and yet he can’t fathom a single sight that has left him quite so breathless as the woman smiling in front of him.

She chuckles at his silence and crawls forward, caressing the side of his face. “Ah so this is what you look like tongue-tied.” Her other hand slowly pulls the fastening of his shirt open until her thumb rests over the orb. “I think I like that.”

His breath catches as she continues to stroke the spot. There’s a familiar fondness blooming over her face, something he’d only glimpsed during whispered conversations when the wine made her eyes shine.

He wraps his arms around her middle and tips them both back against the sheets. He captures her mouth again, letting his hands find their own path across the miles of bare skin under him. He bites a groan into her shoulder as her hips rise to meet his, soft and blissfully warm.

“I wanted to do that,” he mumbles into her neck.

Her answering laugh rumbles through both their chests. “Well, I can put my clothes back on if you’d prefer.”

Her tease melts into a gasp as he kisses her ear.

“Don’t you dare.”

He sits back so she can tug off his shirt. He draws focus as she does, taking in every small detail: the scent of her hair, the sway of her hip, that previously hidden trail of freckles now spilling in a constellation over her breasts. He savours each one, pressing them like flowers between the pages of his memory.

Tav takes her time undressing him, kissing every new inch of skin revealed. He swallows a string of rather unbecoming words as she mouths against his underwear, kissing and sucking in a devastating pattern. His eyes slam closed as she pulls them off and her lips close over him. He’s already fully, desperately hard and those sinfully wet noises are not helping his already precarious self control. Her tongue traces the full length of him and his hand flies to the back of her neck.

Gods, the verses he could write about her mouth if she’d let him.

A cooler air hits him as he suddenly feels her jerk back. He shifts onto his elbows and sees her sitting frozen by his legs. Her whole body is bathed in brilliant blue light, the orb in his chest now glowing under her wide-eyed gaze. It takes him a moment to realise she’s only seen it this way a few times before- either when he was doubled over in pain or as it greedily devoured the magical items they could part with.

“Don’t worry. It’s safe, I swear to you,” he says, taking her hand and pressing it over the orb. It pulses under her palm, perfectly in time with his heart. “Before, excitement was something I had to avoid as such feelings made it hard to keep control. But now it’s not going to do anything unless I make it so.”

Her face relaxes as she looks from his chest to his face. Her lips twist into a gentle smirk. “So I suppose this is why my advances at the party were not getting me anywhere?”

He laughs softly at the memory. “They were more than welcome. To know that what you pictured in the weave was no mere fantasy, but something you wanted- it was everything to me.” He cups his hand over hers, the orb still shining brightly under their touch. “Trust me when I say that I really considered testing the bounds of my self-control that night.”

He’d sat by his tent and thought in circles for hours about whether one night with her was worth disintegrating an area the size of a city. And as their journey went on, it became harder for the answer to that question to be anything other than a thunderous yes.

“Were you worried that I might seek different company?”

He pulls her a little closer at the question, pressing his forehead to hers. “Perhaps a little, but I couldn’t have really blamed you. With such danger around every corner, taking comfort with another in a moment of calm is… understandable.” His words are a half truth at best. He vividly remembers the looks she’d gotten from their other companions that night, ranging from sweet adoration to a much darker want. But despite it all, she simply made her rounds and bid each a brief goodnight.

Even though he lay in his bedroll alone and aching that night- there was a new spark in his chest. That despite everything, she might be willing to wait for him.

“Do you know what I did that night instead?” she asks. She wraps her arms around his neck as he shakes his head and moves onto his lap. He audibly swallows as she shifts her heat against him. “When the party was finally quiet and everyone else had taken to their bedrolls, I let my mind wander anywhere it wanted. And as the night crept on, I couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking about you.”

His hands tighten against her thighs as her lips touch his chin.

“What did you think about?” he whispers. There’s no hiding the want dripping from each of his words, the orb flaring brighter with anticipation.

“A few things. Your face, the way your mouth quirks just so when you’re casting. But mostly your hands.” She presses a kiss to his fingers, her eyes alight. “I’ve seen what you can do with them. You’re always so very… precise. So when the fire burned low, I thought about what those hands might feel like touching me. But sadly I don’t think my own fingers could do them justice.” She leans back and he watches rapt as her wicked mouth continues in a low whisper. “So this won’t be the first time I find pleasure with your name on my lips.”

She kisses his cheek as she finishes. It’s the exact moment Gale feels his patience snap in two.

He grabs both of her wrists and pushes her onto the mattress.

“You need not wonder any more,” he mouths against her neck, ready to show her just how precise his hands can be.

He kisses down to her breasts. Her heart pounds against his cheek as he covers one with his mouth, licking over her nipple until it hardens under his touch. He lightly massages the other, savouring each little gasp and whimper that spills from her lips.

She cries out louder as he tugs her nipple between his teeth. He does it again, slipping his leg between hers and parting her thighs with his knee. There’s no hesitation in his touch as he maps a new path, softly caressing her stomach before dipping lower.

Her breath catches as he brushes her folds, so he presses harder- spreading the wetness building against the pad of his thumb. He circles her clit slowly at first, lifting his mouth so he can watch her face twist and bloom with want.

He kisses the tip of her breast, then her lips. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, skirting his mouth down with clear intent.

She cries out again as he strokes the length of her with his tongue before pausing to press a gentle kiss to her clit.

Her hands find in his hair as he circles the spot.

“Gods.Yes. Right there.”

He takes his time tasting her. Coaxing the weave is a specific art, one that requires such careful use of the tongue. It’s a skill he’s built over many years and one he can use right now- pulling pleasures grander than any magic from her body. He adjusts his technique as he goes, using the pitch of her cries to guide him.

His thumb takes over against her clit as he slowly presses his tongue inside her.

Her thighs clamp down against his head as she comes. He continues to thrust in and out as she rides her high, leaving him wondering how a litany of curses can sound so sweet coming from her lips.

He’s back on her before she has time to catch her breath, kissing her swollen clit again and drawing it between his lips. He presses a hand just under her navel, finding a new rhythm with his mouth as she writhes under him.

He isn’t sure how long he stays there, licking and massaging, feeling her finish again and again and again until tears well like burning stars in her eyes.

He could stop now. The ache in his jaw and shoulders are certainly begging him to. So many others would probably be more than satisfied having felt her come the first couple of times, but he knows he’s not there yet. Not until he’s sure that his name and this night are rooted in her memory as strongly as the magic inside her.

When the dust of his sacrifice has long since cooled and tales of this adventure are strummed by the city’s bards, he cares not if his involvement boils down to one line. The wizard that made his mistakes have meaning. It’s her version of the story that matters. The one she’ll keep to herself. The one that years in the future, she may find herself thinking of on quieter nights. That amongst the blood and steel and dirt, she’ll remember softer lips, careful hands, the shape of fireside stories told with words long since forgotten. And hopefully, when those memories flicker just right, that she was loved desperately and completely.

Even if the face of the man who’d said it has been worn away.

He returns focus between her thighs, licking with renewed vigour until her exhausted pleasure reverberates like a hymn between the sheets.

There’s one more thing he’d like her to remember, something entirely selfish but it would be a lie to say it’s not driving him just as hard right now. In a month or a season or a year when she takes a new lover, there’ll be that brief moment where her mind will wander, wondering if anyone can bring her to the heights that he was able to in a single night.

She tugs his hair and he finally pulls back from her quivering flesh. He can only imagine his face right now- eyes bright, breaths ragged, chin shining with the evidence of her pleasure. What he’d give for a mirror so he can see himself truly undone for her.

He kisses the inside of her thigh. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Gods no, I -“ her words catch as he sucks the skin just hard enough to leave a mark. “We have all night,” she finally gasps out.

He rubs the purple spot and climbs over her again. “Yes we do. And I intend to use every moment of it.”

He rolls to the side and pulls her back flat to his chest. He kisses her throat and rubs the planes of her body until she relaxes soft as water against him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs as his hands brush over her breasts, cupping them gently. She throws her head back as he rubs his thumb over her nipple and kisses down the curve of her throat.

His lips stop when they reach a scattering of familiar pin-prick scars. The marks left from Astarion’s bites.

It’s the first time he’s seen them so close and he’s a little surprised at just how many there are. Most are faded, but a few are pinker and clearly still healing. Something grumbles in his throat when he notices a pair closer to her collarbone. They’re raised and swollen, probably less than a day old.

He knows it’s just a means to an end. She’d assured him as such when he’d found her woozily staggering around after the first time. But here, with the taste of her pleasure on his tongue and her skin against his hands, he feels oddly bitter about it.

He covers the marks with his mouth and, in a sudden flush of possessiveness, bites down hard. Her shocked little squeak echoes between the curtains. He immediately lets go, but she grabs his head and pushes his mouth back down before he can even think to apologise. He follows her lead, sucking and nipping his own marks into the skin until he knows a bouquet of purple bruises are going to shine there for everyone to see come morning.

He smiles at the thought as his palm drifts down to cup her sex.

She bucks against him, moaning as he presses a finger inside her. His breath leaves him in a long sigh as she thrusts down, working herself against his touch. He lets her find her own rhythm, enjoying the tight slick heat as he adds another finger.

Tav cries out again, one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other flying down to cover his own. He kisses her jaw as she moves faster and gently presses her over-sensitive clit with his thumb.

Her back slams against his chest. Her thrusts are rough and jerky against his fingers, but her answering cry is different. It’s barely audible, but he catches the whisper as it brushes past her lips like a prayer.

“Gale.”

His hand immediately stops.

He rolls over, removing his hand and settling himself between her thighs in one quick movement.

“Say that again,” he whispers, pressing himself against her heat until she sighs and shivers under him.

Her smile softens. She touches his temple, then his cheek, leaning up to kiss her answer against his mouth. “My Gale.”

Before he can react, she’s hooking her leg to his hip and rolling them over again. She brushes her lips to his forehead as she grips his erection and slowly eases herself onto him.

His hands clamp over her waist and it takes every iron-wrought fibre of his self-control not to finish right then and there.

Her mouth falls open as she fully seats herself. He can already feel the curve of her lips spilling into his dreams: red and wet and parted with desire. It’s a heady sight.

He heaves himself up as she slowly starts to move, letting his mouth explore every inch of sweat-slick flesh he can find. She shudders harder as he brushes over her pulse, so he does it again, then one more time, groaning as her thrusts become more erratic.

The planes of their bodies glisten with the orb’s light. Gale briefly looks down to watch it brighten between them. It’s both salvation and extinction, the evidence of his own hubris burned like a death warrant in his skin. There hasn’t been a day since his fall where he hasn’t fantasised about clawing it out of his chest.

He’s finding it hard to hold onto that feeling when it’s currently making Tav glow like the divine in his lap.

He closes his eyes and lets himself get lost in the feeling. Her mouth is everywhere, hot against his chest, his jaw, his ear. His fingers dig into her back as she softly bites the lobe.

When he pulls her face back to his, there’s something hanging between her teeth, small and glinting in the light. He stops moving when he realises it’s his earring.

She doesn’t say anything as he takes it from her, but her eyes waver with uncertainty- waiting for his reaction.

He turns the star between his fingers. It’s slightly tarnished from years of wear and something burns right under the orb as he takes in every tiny scratch and imperfection.

They both know it’s more than just some trinket. It’s the emblem of magic itself, his everything, the person he’d been told he was ever since he’d been able to use his hands. And it’s Her.

Mystra.

His chest burns harder.

Every night since she’d cast him out he’d thought of her. Her love. Her anger. How she’s still so intimately intertwined with his power just as the night and stars above. Once upon a time that thought had brought him some sense of comfort, that with every spell that crackled between his hands her eye may have been upon him, perhaps just long enough to feel his remorse.

A year of silence that earned him. A year of stony unwavering devotion that he refused to shirk. Nights conjuring her visage, practising his apologies and admonitions, feeling those grey hairs lengthen under his own cold purple light. And when the sun finally warmed his robes again, there was a break in that silence, her final gift wrapped in Elminster’s resolute words.

Death. And then perhaps what she’d consider her forgiveness.

Gale drops the earring on the mattress and eases Tav onto her back. Her eyes squeeze shut as he thrusts harder, chasing that burning thread of their joint pleasure. Gone is the finesse of before, replaced with a darker, frantic want to feel her, love her and forget everything beyond the cradle of her arms.

He bites at the fruit of her lips, tastes her desire, then kisses that swollen curve as if he can press a lifetime of adoration into her skin.

She turns her face into the pillows but he guides it back to him, gently holding it there so he can watch every flicker of bliss as it rolls in waves over her. It’s a shameful want, but he needs to remember, to hold on, so that when this is done and she’s too far away to watch him burn, he can let the last thing he sees be someone who’d loved the whole of him.

And perhaps, if he can cling onto those infinitely precious parts of her, something can bring them back together one day. Maybe after the universe has long since dimmed.

“Wait- please.”

Her breathy cry pulls him from the thought. Her eyes are wide underneath his, her mouth half open with an unfinished thought. He slows his hips as she lifts herself and strokes the side of his face.

“I'm not letting you go, Gale. Not now. Not ever.”

Her words are a whisper but their strength is clear, as steadfast as cliffs to the wind. He feels each one take root inside him. The promise of love, of someone so clearly ready to fight fate and the Gods for him- it’s so new and strangely wonderful.

It threatens to break his heart all over again.

He takes her fingers and kisses each one before laying her down again.

“I know.”

She comes one last time with his name on her lips. He drinks the gasp from her, collapsing into her neck as he follows over the edge. She holds him through his final thrusts, humming softly against his hairline.

“That’s it. Let me feel you.”

He basks in the boneless feeling for a moment before pulling out, murmuring a spell so the mess between them disappears.

She chuckles and pulls him more comfortably onto her chest. The slowing beat of her heart drums a soft rhythm against his ear. He listens a while as he catches his breath, trying to centre his thoughts.

There’s a lot he wants to say, too much, speeches he’d written then rewritten in his mind as he’d sat waiting for her earlier.

She runs a hand through his hair and the words catch behind his lips. It’s an unhurried movement, her fingers gently raking from the top of his head to the nape of his neck and then back. When her thumb caresses the tip of his ear, something hot forms in his throat.

He can’t recall the last time he’d been touched with such casual tenderness. Certainly not in Mystra’s embrace. Those arcane pleasures were so abstract and blindingly intense, there was never a moment to simply… feel.

It’s then he realises: spending so many years making love as the Gods do, he’s half sure he’s forgotten what it feels like to actually be held.

When he looks up, her eyes are trained to the canopy. He taps her collarbone until she blinks. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Her voice is airy, her gaze still about a thousand realms away.

“That’s rather a lot of nothing that seems to be troubling you.”

She tugs his hair, rolling her eyes.

He smiles and shifts over her, kissing the annoyance from her mouth until she finally relaxes again.

“Fine,” she murmurs, guiding his cheek back to her chest. “I was just wondering what the chances were that I’d actually end up here. If I’d stayed home that day or run faster or hidden- I’d probably still be in Baldur’s Gate right now, none the wiser to any of this.” She sighs and starts stroking his hair again. “I’ve seen more of Faerûn than most people. I don’t think I’d even know this curse was basically on my doorstep if I hadn’t been captured.”

Gale nods. “Few have lived to tell the tale I presume. I doubt this is on anyone’s list of holiday destinations.” He brushes the cluster of freckles he found earlier, delighted at the gentle trail of goosebumps that follow.

“It’s strange. I don’t think I regret it happening though. Not completely,” she continues quietly.

“Given what we’ve just done I can agree with that.”

She tugs his hair again, softer this time.

“There’s still so much more I want to see,” she says.

“And you will. You don’t need to worry about that.” ‘Let me worry about that’ is what he doesn’t say.

She hums her assent, gaze still lost to the material above. “I’ve never actually set foot in Waterdeep either. Maybe one day.”

His heart squeezes a little at the name. Home.

“You’d need more than a day, trust me. It’s called the City of Splendours for a reason,” he says, picturing that last lazy sunset he’d watched from his balcony. “There are ten-thousand things to see, a lifetime isn’t even enough time to appreciate all it has to offer.”

“Where would I even start?”

“I can always pen you a guide.”

“Or you can just show me.” She catches his eye as he lifts his head. “Not that I’m doubting your illusion didn’t do it justice but it would be nice to see that view properly.”

He tries not to let his smile falter. There’s no cruelty to her words; no hint that she’d forgotten what he’d told her before they’d kissed. He’s chosen his fate and even now she’s fighting him on it, like she has some grand plan up her sleeve stronger than the Netherese inferno waiting to detonate in his chest.

He sighs and holds her tighter.

It would be a callous thing to argue. She’d wanted to make love in the real world, but between these curtains they can stay wrapped up in a different illusion until morning. They’ll both leave these lands. Alive. Together.

He presses his lips to her heart. “Of course I will.”

Over the next hours, their conversation is slow and easy. He talks about everything and nothing until he feels her breathing even out and her grip relax against him.

He should sleep. His body aches in a multitude of different ways but his mind won’t let him.

One night of passion to sate his love, to give him something to hold onto as he followed Mystra’s command- that was the plan, the only plan he’d thought of. But now, lying in her arms and knowing she isn’t just going to stand back and let him end himself, he can feel that resolve crumbling.

He’d had his moment with her but it’s not enough, not even close. If he’s being honest with himself, he’d known that since he’d watched her walk through the image of his tower. She’d fit so easily, like she was made to be there. His illusions are good but it had set a deeper want inside him, to have her there for real.

He can see it so clearly now: watching the sun brighten her skin on his balcony, introducing her to Tara properly, making love to her in his own bed- could it be such a foolish thing to consider?

His heart pounds harder and he feels his chest tighten again.

The orb is still an ever present danger. Even quelled right now, he knows Elminster’s spell is just a temporary stop- but it’s still time. If they defeat this Heart of Absolute another way, then he could hold on for weeks, maybe even months. It'll be enough to take her home and make some memories outside of this wretched adventure- give her something brighter to think on when she hears his name.

He swallows as he turns the picture over in his mind. He’d incur his Goddess’ ire a second time and potentially damn the world just to stay a little longer on this plane.

The thought doesn’t taste so sour now- not if it’s with Tav.

He’s a dead man walking either way. If there’s any chance he can fill those final days with love, no matter how infinitesimally small, he’s going to take it.

He closes his eyes and finally lets sleep take him.

For now his charge changes. For now, he’s choosing to live.

♥・。.。*♥*。.。·*♥*·。.。*♥*·。.。*♥*。.。·*♥

I actually think it makes complete sense for Gale to keep the earring the entire game buuuut I had this image of Tav pulling it off so... here we are.

This can kind of be read as a prequel to my other work: Stay , but isn't necessary reading.

#baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fic #gale fic #my writing #gale x tav

89 notes · View notes