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spicywhenspeaking · 15 hours

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wait…

Desolate Love • N.S

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader (oneshot)

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst.

Prompt: His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love; but you weren't meant to be sung for, even if you loved each other first.

Authors note: I have never written anything like this publically before, but I'm feeling a little sad and angsty lol. I hope you enjoy the words that came from my heart. (ps. I know many on the taglist are here for smut, and this isn’t smut, but I'm just re-using tags since I'm not sure who enjoys what! Pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things!!)

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

He got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

A reminder of what once was.

A reminder of what would never be.

You wrote unspoken words in your diary, quarrels that would never be said aloud.

Words that confessed years of feelings, years of silenced affections.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours.

He consumed your mind; the way he smiled at you the day you met; his contagious laughter that danced through the walls in grandeur.

“Is this Henderson’s gym class?”

The voice behind startled you, and you turned, meeting a pair of ochre eyes. The stutter that left your lips caused your face to warm in embarrassment, as the messy brunette locks that fell across the boy’s features left you captivated.

“Yeah, I think so?” Your brows furrowed as you second-guessed yourself, even though you double-checked the classroom timetable a thousand times.

His lips spread into a dancing grin, his slight buck teeth chewing playfully on his bottom lip in shyness.

“Cool,” He stuck out his hand, long fingers wrapping around yours, “Noah.”

“Y/N,” You returned the smile, your ears heating as his October gaze never left yours.

You pulled away, briefly glancing down at his shirt, immediately excited.

“You like blink-182?”

Noah looked down at his shirt, pointing at it, “Oh yea, I fucking love them.”

He glanced up at you, fixated, “Do you?”

You nodded excitedly, “They’re probably my favourite band at the moment, other than the 1975, and Oasis, and-” you began to ramble, but stopped, afraid to embarrass yourself anymore than you felt you had.

Something flickered within his eyes at that moment; something you never noticed.

“Wonderwall?” He asked.

A song that became yours.

The burned CD he gave you collected dust in the corner of your room, aged and scratched from years of use. The disk player sat untouched, left as a painful reminder from when the tunes that played were melodies of hope; melodies of elation.

These feelings of grief consumed you, engulfing you into an overwhelming feeling of remorse.

The waves of heartbreak came and left, nostalgia shielding your anguish when memories flooded in.

No one ever filled you with such devotion and desire as he did; and throughout the naivety, you could have sworn it to be love.

It was the way Noah would shout your name from across the room when he saw you, or the way he would cover your eyes, asking you to guess who.

Every time you would laugh, placing your hands on top of his, saying you weren’t sure.

But you knew every time.

His long fingers would twirl your hair when he sat behind you in class, tugging the strands playfully before running his nails over your scalp.

“I just like your hair,” He’d say.

And whenever he picked up his guitar in the band room, he would strum the chords to your song, as if inviting you to listen to his lyrical confessions.

His texts consisted of using silly nicknames, and an overload of emojis to express his feelings. It was over the top, almost as if he was afraid he never came across as genuine enough without them.

Late night conversations went on for hours, laughing at the random stories and memories exchanged through flirtatious banter. You wanted to tell him everything about you, and learn everything about him.

You wanted to know his favourite colour, and what cologne he wore. His goals and dreams intrigued you, his fears and dislikes alluring.

You began to like the things he did, just to have something to talk about. You watched the shows he recommended and googled the things you didn’t know. Anything for him.

Noah would tell you how proud he was of you if you shared an accomplishment, or how pretty you looked when you wore your hair down.

He told you he loved your sneakers, and the way your oversized sweaters engulfed your body.

“You could wear mine,” He said, “You look good in my clothes.”

He would grab your hands, drawing silly pictures in Sharpie. It always left you frustrated when the image of an scribbled smiley face barely faded with each scrub.

But really, you would stare at it in admiration, blushing at the thought of his fingers brushing against yours.

“You like him, don’t you?” Your best friends pried, causing you to flush in embarrassment.

“He doesn’t like me like that,” You sighed, shaking your head, “We’re just friends.”

Just friends don’t play with each others hair like that.

Just friends don’t call each other pretty.

Just friends don’t text each other all night long.

“Is it easier to just pretend?”

Time went on, and your heart fluttered at every smile Noah shared with you, and at every word you exchanged.

The daily good morning and goodnight texts left you melting, succumbing your heart to his as he claimed it for his own.

Deep down, you knew he liked you more than just a friend. The way he treated you was special; there was no way that was how friends treat friends.

N: “Hey, your crush 100% likes you back.”

You: “Uhh hey? How would you know?”

N: “Well, I know who you like.”

You: “I guarantee you don’t.”

N: “Hmm, but I do? And I know he likes you back.”

You: “Sure Noah, haha. Go to bed.”

N: “I’m just saying. He likes you. Goodnight Y/N <3”

With a spiralling mind, your heart hammered.

Did he know how you felt about him? Did he just confess his feelings?

Hope.

It wasn’t until he pulled you into the storage closet a week later, that sorrow knocking down any previous signs of faith.

Torn.

“Y/N, I just wanted to talk… but I know you have feelings for me.”

His eyes bore into your own, sorrowful and sullen.

“Look,” he began, grabbing your hands in his, eyes glancing at your entwined fingers, “I- I just promised myself to someone else. My girl- ex-girlfriend, is coming here, and the reason we broke up was because I transferred.”

He began to ramble, unable to look into your eyes as he confessed his worries. Your heart began to shatter as you forced a small smile. Pulling your hands from his you placed them on his shoulders, causing him to pause.

“Noah,” You said softly, the words leaving your mouth a blatant lie, “It’s ok. I understand.“

His shoulders fell as he watched you. He brought you into a hug, squeezing you against his body, holding onto you.

Ludicrous. Empty.

You cried, your knees held to your chest in comfort as a shield from the feelings of abandonment. How could you be so naive?

You: “Just wanted to say thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if my feelings complicate things, I care about you a lot Noah.”

N: “I’m sorry, for everything. You mean a lot to me, and I care about you. ”

You: “If you knew who I liked all along… why did you say that my crush liked me back?”

It took him almost an hour to respond.

N: “Because I do like you Y/N. I like you a lot… but I promised myself to someone.”

The tears that fell from your face that night left you parched and broken, your world-shattering.

You found someone else a year later. Love that fulfilled your every need, someone to cherish you for you. It was someone who gave you everything; but your mind selfishly always wandered back to him.

You didn’t know that the day he found out you became spoken for, was the day he broke into a million pieces from a whole.

His heart was mutilated, head spinning with uncontrollable thoughts of regret.

How could he have let you slip through his fingers? All for some what-ifs?

He pretended to be happy for you.

Years passed, and you both grew. Both changed, both matured.

You got a ring, and Noah played in a band. You went to every show, you still showed up, even though you knew you were always a second choice.

He watched you the whole time as his fingers traced the strings of the guitar, and your heart yearned for him; screaming and aching and crying that you were just a body in the room.

It wasn’t until he found someone, that you told yourself it wasn’t healthy to fixate on past uncertainties.

It was rare you went to shows now. But when you did, you watched as he stood on that stage and sung; his smile brilliant and just for her.

But then you would meet his gaze, and you knew that the ochre was always for you. Forever yours.

His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love.

But you weren’t his: you weren’t mean’t to be sung for.

Some nights you called him drunk. You told him you missed him, that you wanted him to know you think about him all the time.

He told you he missed your voice, and how he wished you two still called.

He said he was happy you found someone to love you, because you deserved to be loved.

You knew he was lying.

It was the last time you talked, until you saw him sitting in the audience as you walked down the aisle, marrying a man you loved. A man who promised himself to you forever. A man who chose you first. A man who was not him.

Noah asked for your hand, he asked you for a dance. Your bodies swayed one last time in a synchronized beat, but just as friends; as desolate lovers.

You never listened to Wonderwall again.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours. You were meant to be happy now.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

A reminder of what would never be.

A reminder of what once was.

Noah got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #noah sebastian

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spicywhenspeaking · 15 hours

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Save Me From Myself

Nick Folio x Reader

Warnings: Depression. Blood. Implied self harm. Bad Thoughts. If this makes you uncomfortable or you are under 18, please don't read this. Thank You.

Tags : @thescarlettvvitch @thefallennightmare @spicywhenspeaking @artificialbreezy @dsireland86

Authors Note: I wrote this because it expressed how I have been feeling these past couple of days. I know this topic is a very hard topic for some or all but I think it should be talked about. If this isn't for you, thats okay. Please don't feel like you have to read it. Im sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. I picked Nick Folio in this because he is a comfort person to me. If you are having a bad day or feeling down, my inbox is always open for you.

You and Nick have been living together for 4 years. He knows you like the back of his hand. Nick knows when you are having a good day and when you are having a horrible day.

Today was one of your worst days. You have dealt with depression ever since you were a child. Therapy session after therapy session, it had all been the same.

Nick has been at the studio since the morning. Before leaving he gave you a kiss on the head and whispered “i love you” trying to not wake you up. You pretended to be asleep because your head was running in circles all night keeping you awake. Thought after thought, it just wouldn't go away or stop.

Once you hear him leave, you get up to use the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. An image of someone you don't recognize anymore. Bad thoughts start running in your head. You ask yourself “why is he with me?” “why does he want to be with someone who has all this trauma and who isn't pretty enough?” You scream at the mirror grabbing the closest thing to you, breaking it. You watch it break and watch it fall in the sink and on the floor.

You grab one of the pieces bringing it to your wrist. Sobbing at this point, not knowing if it's the right thing to do. A part of you wants to think that it will make the pain go away, the other part wants to think that it will make things worse.

You hear the front door open quickly and close just as fast. Nick is calling out your name with a worried tone. He runs to the bedroom and to the bathroom only to find you standing there with a piece of broken mirror in your hand with blood trickling down your hand. You don't realize how tight you are holding it.

Nick looks at you with a worried expression and slowly goes over to you, takes the piece of mirror away from you and wraps his arms around you holding you. You hold him and sob uncontrollably falling to the ground with Nick. He sits against the bathtub holding onto you. You hold onto him tight not wanting to let go. He rubs your back softly and kisses your head.

You and Nick sit there for what feels like forever. You look up at him with red puffy eyes and with a low voice you say “I’m sorry.”

Nick looks at you “You have nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry I wasn't here with you. I knew something was wrong and I didn’t ask you if you were okay when I knew you weren’t. Please if you ever have those thoughts in your head again , talk to me. I don't care if I'm in the studio. I will always listen to you. Everything will be okay. I promise you, sweet girl. Know that you are worthy and you are enough. Don't let those bad thoughts win. I need you here with me more than anyone. I love you more than myself.”

Nick held you and stroked your head. He didn't know how long you both were on the floor. It was until he called your name and you didn't answer that he saw you had fallen asleep. He carried you to the bed, laying you down and laying down next to you. Nick held you close to him. He kissed your head and ended up falling asleep a few moments later.

#nick folio #nick folio fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction

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spicywhenspeaking · 15 hours

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So beautiful!! I can’t believe it’s over ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I love them so much!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

A Friend Down In Hell - Part Twenty-Two END

pairing: Nick Folio x ofc (Ishtar)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, pining, idiot in love, language, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of religious mythology.

summary: Folio can't quite tell you how long he's been dead, but it doesn't matter when he has friends like his, and Ishtar. Ishtar, with whom he fell in love the moment he met her. The problem? She doesn't know it. How does he convince a demon, who is practically immortal, to date him when he's dead? How did Ellie do it so easily?

author’s note: Final Part for Folio & Ishtar.. but don't worry the Hell-Verse is not over yet, keep an eye out..

To read from the beginning: A Friend Down In Hell Masterlist

And for those that missed Noah & Ellie's Story previously, all Hell-Verse stories will be included here: Combined Hell-Verse Masterlist

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro @dsireland86 @4rtificialfolio @emmmm127 @badomensls @agravemisstake @sunsshinesunny @blackveilomens @jilliemiw86

Tag lists are open, please let me know if you'd like to be added to this story, the Hell-Verse as a whole, or Everything

“Let's go, Sunshine, give them some time to think it over.”

Ishtar joined Nick as they left the bar to head back to her apartment. She’d teleported to the bar to get there, this morning, so it was no trouble at all to choose to go with him on his bike, or summon her helmet with a snap of her fingers. Neither was a bother, if anything she preferred it, spending time with him was always something she preferred. Yes, she’d sent him away last night, but everyone needed a bit of alone time when they were stressed now and then, even her. Now, now she was overjoyed, and she just knew she didn’t want to be apart from him. Knowing that he was willing to face a man that had just tried to stab him last night to defend her, ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, but, she just wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go.

Of course, as soon as they got to her apartment building, when they stepped into her apartment, the door closed behind them, Ishtar spun around on him and smacked her hand across his bicep. She used an open palm, right across his skin, a nice slap. Not as hard as she could, but none too lightly either, she wanted him to feel it a little bit, just a little anyway, not to much, just enough to know she was serious.

“Ow!”

So she did it again, and again.

“Ow, ow! Okay, okay, I get it!”

“Do you, Sunshine? Tony tried to stab you yesterday, and you just walked right into that office to confront them alone? You didn’t even tell me you were going!”

At the very least, he looked a tiny bit sheepish at that.

“You would have tried to stop me and told I didn’t need to go in, and I know you had it handled, but Ishtar, hear me out, I caused the problem, I wanted to at least try to fix it. To go and see your boss in person and tell him to his face just what kind of man that Tony is. In my experience, horrible people like Tony get away with the shit that they do, because they get away with so many little things, that when something big like yesterday happens, everyone goes.. Oh well, no one will punish him for it, so what’s the point?”

Nick expression was set into a fierce gaze, and Ishtar couldn’t help but wonder if her Sunshine hadn’t met men like Tony in his time in the living realm as well. Then again, he was a biker he worked in a bar just like she did, they got all kinds and that she knew well, who knows what kind of people might have crossed his path during his life. It was fair to say that he might have indeed come across others, just like Tony, that got away with all kinds of things because no one challenged them. Taking in a slow deep breath at his words, she sighed.

“Alright, I understand, but you understand mine, too, right? You could have taken Noah, Nicholas, or even Jolly, anyone would have been better than no one, Nick!”

Her voice cracked a little at the end when she thought about what could have happened if Tony had attacked him again, and her boss had done nothing to stop it. He had been friends with Tony longer than she had worked there, longer than she’d been alive in this lifetime, who knows what could have gone down once he had arrived. Nick might not be able to die again, but it would not have been a fair fight, not when Tony had backup this time.

Folio wanted to continue to insist he would have been fine, he wanted to argue that he could handle Tony just like he had last night. He was a coward at worst, and a pansy that couldn’t throw a decent punch at best, but then when her voice did that thing, he swallowed it down. No, he wouldn’t argue. Taking in a deep breath instead, he reached for her, arms circling around her waist just as hers then wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him to her tightly, a soft sound escaping her throat.

“I’m sorry, Princess. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you so badly, I’ll remember to be more careful next time I have to deal with them, I swear. Always with you, always with backup. Never let myself get away with me.. You have my word.”

Not be stupid enough not to accept Jolly’s offer next time! That would be a good starting point at least.

“Oh, Sunshine, I don’t think there is going to be a next time.”

Pulling back from her to groan,

“You don’t seriously think they’ll still have the gall to fire you after that? Noah and Nicholas will rip into them when they find out what Tony did! Can they send him to punishment? Are there punishment realms for demons? Please tell me yes, please!”

“Hold on, Sunshine, hold on, that’s not what I mean. Hearing everything you said to Mario, and Tony in the office, about me, about what I have to put up with there, even if I don’t get fired, I don’t want to work there any more. I’m done. Working at the bar, I wanted to work my way up, and it's not worth debasing myself like that any more. They aren’t going to let me get anywhere, I need to make my own way. I’ve always wanted my own place, and it's about time. Maybe a little café.”

Folio lit up at the sound of it, Ishtar had talked about her dreams of owning her own little café one day more than once, and the thought sounded perfect for her. She was wonderful with people, and he loved her baking, how could he ever not support her in this?

“With breakfast wraps?”

Hearing her lyrical laugh when he asked her that. Of course, he was going to ask that, there was no way he was going to be going to the shop across the street when he was going to be going to Ishtar’s instead. Breakfast wraps or not. He would just get something else instead if she chose to make a different variety to keep up a fresh menu.

“Maybe, or maybe something better. I’m sure I could come up with my own version. I found a recipe for breakfast muffins, and I’ll throw in an apple crumble one on the house just for you, Sunshine.”

“As if you haven’t already gotten me sold, Princess.”

Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss, grinning all the while, over the moon right then. For a morning when he had been absolutely distraught with the disaster that the night before had been, he was overjoyed right then. Looking into her bright, sparkling eyes, the joy there, he just knew, Folio knew..

“Ishtar.. I want to bond, I want to bond with you. I love you more than anything. I want to share this life with you, and your next life, and the next.. Not to mention every life after. I want to wear your vines proudly on my skin for everyone to see.”

Hearing her giggle when he mentioned her vines, her lips pressed right back against his in response, he would take that as an agreement, an enthusiastic agreement! He knew it would be different for him, in a sense giving up reincarnation to stay with her, but any time he’d even thought about going back, the pros did not out weight the cons in his point of view. While he openly talked about having no interest, he was sure everyone considered it, at least sometimes, who didn’t wonder about the world of the living sometimes.

Ishtar preparing for their bonding didn’t take long at all. Some liked to make a ceremony of it, but Ishtar always considered it to be something that should be more personal, something that was very private. It was a bonding of the souls, it was a magical ritual that was about to voluntarily bind the very essence of what made them who they were together for the rest of eternity. Yes, she had been surprised when Nick had told her he had never wanted to get married, and yet had sort out the information on bonding with her so readily. Marriage was nothing but a signature on a piece of paper for her, a vow for humans she supposed, but bonding was a magical blood tie that lasted beyond death.

For her, she had always dreamed about whom she might one day want to bond with, but Ishtar never thought it would be like this, though, so intense, so quickly. Ishtar knew others that were involved for years before they even considered bonding, and here she was, only weeks with Nick. Weeks, well, weeks after five years.. But she knew. She knew the moment that Nick told her that he wanted to bond with her, warmth had swelled in her chest, that she’d made the right choice. She’d known the moment she’d mentioned it in the field, under the starts. The way he assured her he never wanted her to push her into human ways instead of demonic ones, how could she not want to wrap him up and keep him for her own?

Some might say it was selfish in so many ways, that it was asking him to give up reincarnation. She didn’t see it that way. Nick would have to live with her dying and having to wait for her to come back to him every few hundred years, and if she had to do the same now and then? If he wanted to reincarnate and go back into the world, and she had to remind him of who she was when he came back to hell, she would, each and every time he wanted to go. She could only hope he’d still fall in love with her still, for while her soul would be bound to his, but his soul wouldn’t be bound to hers.

That didn’t deter her, he’d always be her Sunshine, no matter what.

It wasn’t even lunchtime when they were kneeling in the middle of the sitting room. Ishtar had cleared the furniture from around the space and laid down a sheet. She used charcoal to draw the binding symbols in a circle around the space on the sheet where they were now kneeling in the middle of. Nick was shirtless, while Ishtar wore one of her light sun dresses, so her arms were completely bare along with most of her shoulders. She had written the runes that she needed him to use onto a piece of paper, and where he was to place them, but the next step some found a bit squeamish. Thankfully, she full well knew that Nick would be able to handle the sight of blood.

Ishtar was careful was where she sliced their hands open, the worst mistake anyone made was cutting open their palm to affect their nerves. Not that either of them had to worry about not healing, or that their nerves would suffer permanent damage from the cuts. Just the same, the ritual spell required them both to bleed into the bowl between them, mixing their blood together. From here Ishtar painted a series of runes with her fingertips in a mixture of their blood, along Nick’s shoulder blades, and down his biceps and forearms, and he did the same to her. The runes on each of their bodies were different, one denoting that she was binding her soul to his, and he was the one being bound to.

Once Nick was finished, Ishtar smiled softly to herself. He had insisted that she have a way to check to make sure that he got all the runes perfect, which was why they had a handheld mirror inside the circle. It had to be inside, they couldn’t leave the circle before the bonding was complete, or it would dissipate the runes, and they’d have to start again from scratch. She checked, and sure enough, thanks to her guidance, and his careful following of the guide drawing, he got them just right.

Taking his hands in hers, she grasped them and began the final steps of the ritual. The demonic language of the spell flowed from her tongue seamlessly as she spoke the words to bind herself to him. To give her soul to him for the rest of her life, all of her lives, with every death and rebirth. Just as he would bare her soul mark from here on, he was in her heart always.

The moment the words ended, the runes seemed to melt into one long line on both of their skin and flowed into the air forming a scarlet ribbon made of their blood. It flowed through the air, and wound its way around their arms. One wrap around each arm, before tightening around their skin, as if to act as the very binding, before the blood ribbon fading and sank into their skin. This was their red string of fate, it was always going to be a part of them, and Ishtar would have it no other way.

“It’s done.”

Seeing Nick beaming back at her,

“It’s finished?”

Her eyes flickered down to the side of his neck slightly with a smile, “Have a look for yourself, Sunshine.” She held up the mirror for him to have a look at himself. Ishtar watched him as he held up the handheld mirror to see the mirror image of the vines that ran down the side of her neck down the bare side of his neck, the side that was previously unmarked. Seeing the way he practically radiated pure joy at that moment, sunshine, just as she always called him.

“It’s perfect. Now, every time I look in the mirror, I get to be reminded how lucky I am to be bonded to you, Princess.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#nick folio x ofc #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction

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spicywhenspeaking · 18 hours

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next weekend is going to CHANGE MY LIFE!!!

seeing Bad Omens two days in a row 😵‍💫🤩🫣 and then the following Monday seeing Greta Van Fleet!!!

Hoping I can meet some of you awesome folks at the shows! ❤️

#diary #bad omens #greta van fleet #me

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spicywhenspeaking · 19 hours

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oh! Love these ❤️

tagging : @philomenie @itsafullmoon @cind6547 @lma1986 @sorrowsofsilence @meekahy @madomens

Starting new picrew bc I find this one super cute and pretty so lets go! LINK

No pressure tag @wyvernslovecake @bby-deerling @nina-ya @ringdabel @im-stuck-in-fandom-hell and everyone who wants to join! 💛

#tag game #piccrew #mutuals ✨🌈💫🎉☀️❤️

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spicywhenspeaking · 2 days

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🌹 a flower for everyone not feeling their best today

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spicywhenspeaking · 2 days

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Friendly reminder that you should

Write that fic

Draw your OC

Redesign that blorbo

Plan that comic how you want

Create the content you want to see

Be cringe

Be free

The only thing that matters is you having fun! Not what others think!

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spicywhenspeaking · 3 days

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i love you, authors in my phone :]

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spicywhenspeaking · 5 days

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So cute!!

Tagging : @to-be-written ❤️✨

@unknownteapot thanks for the tag heheh

im tragic!! so thats..... fun..🥲

do this uquiz

do this picrew

im tagging @pedropascallme @sage-lights @smoshimonsters @hoohoobeanie @delulurker and anyone else who wants to do it <3

#tag games

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spicywhenspeaking · 5 days

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Downpour

Pairing: Gale x Fem Reader

Summary: After so long trapped in the shadow-cursed lands, Tav basks in the delight of feeling the rain on her skin. One-shot.

Warnings: Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Smut.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Ok, so I wanted to have a go a a romantic, Austen-esque, fluffy, soggy, sexy love-scene. I am a Pride and Prejudice girlie, and this was definitely inspired by the artwork i've seen floating around of Gale as Mr.Darcy. I STILL BLUSH WHEN I POST SMUT.

In the forest, away from camp, the rain fell heavy, warm, and welcome. After enduring the stagnant shadows of the curse for so long, Tav reveled in the sensation of the heavy droplets drenching her. She longed to feel the rain soak all the way to her bones, washing away the blood and shadow clinging to her skin. She craved cleanliness, yearning to return to the warm embrace of nature before being pulled back onto the road to Baldur’s Gate, where fresh burdens would undoubtedly litter the streets of her city.

Baldur’s Gate... The Upper City... Her home. Where her expectant fiancé no-doubt awaited her return, eager for her to forsake her studies of magic and join him as agreed in their betrothal. It was a future that demanded sacrifice—her independence, her magic, her heart—all in exchange for providing for her family. This was the destiny that loomed if they completed their quest, and time was slipping away like sand through an hourglass.

So, she lingered in the rain a while longer, relishing the freedom of being a fearless adventurer, a woman unbound, her soul still wild and untamed. She would postpone the inevitable, if only for a few rain-soaked hours.

Her thoughts drifted, as they often did, to Gale. His anger still lingered like a storm cloud after their battle against Ketheric. She had urged him to resist the call of his Goddess, to spare himself from becoming the sacrificial weapon to slay the absolute. In doing so, he had shed his mantle of martyrdom, stepping away from the edge of his perceived heroism. And in the aftermath, when the adrenaline faded and victory cries hushed, she sensed his resentment.

At the height of his struggle, she had hoped he wouldn't need convincing. She had hoped his own worth would shine brightly enough to dispel the dark intent of Mystra's decree, and that he would have enough faith in their companions, in her, to find another path. She had believed their bond ran deep enough for him to steadfastly choose to remain by her side, but she had been mistaken. He required persuasion, and it had nearly shattered her.

She understood he owed her nothing, that no formal declarations had been made. There were moments heavy with unspoken desire, where the air crackled with anticipation. She had savoured each lingering glance and flirtatious exchange. Yet now, she wondered if it had all been a fanciful illusion. How could he desire her when his heart yearned for a Goddess? When the sigil of his devotion was literally branded over his heart? She resigned herself to accepting that he would stay by her side a while longer, and would bask in his warmth for as long as she could.

“Tav!” A distant voice called through the trees, barely audible over the rain storm's fury.

She turned to see him striding purposefully towards her, embers of anger flickering in his deep eyes. Both of them were drenched, the rain pouring down so relentlessly that it only took moments to become completely soaked. His white camp shirt clung to his chest and abdomen, accentuating the contours of his muscles. The emblem of the orb was unmistakable through the fabric, as was the dark hair which spattered his chest, trailing down into the snug, rain-soaked leather trousers tucked into his boots. Heavy droplets cascaded down his nose and fell from his long lashes like tears, and he had pushed his hair back away from his face, so now only a couple of tendrils stuck to his forehead and his cheek. The shimmer of the water cast him in ethereal beauty, and his silver earring gleamed like a lone star in the night sky. He might as well have been naked, and Tav felt a rush of heat at the sight of him. He was divine, and he was furious.

“What are you doing?” His voice was coloured with fresh anger. “You will catch your death!”

“Death has tried to catch me once today, wizard,” she said in defiance, turning her face upwards to the burst sky and running her hands through her hair. “I would like to see him try again.”

“You are stubborn and infuriating to your core! You would not allow me to sacrifice myself, and yet here you stand in the middle of a storm, taunting death as though he is a pawn in your game of heroics.”

She had never seen him this inflamed; the cool bindings of his tightly-wrapped feelings had come loose to reveal a man smouldering with desperate intent. The fact he still saw himself as a sacrifice shot fury through Tav’s veins equal to that of the Wizard before her.

“Do not blame me for what happened today! Your derision is wasted on me. I regret nothing. You were not weak; you were courageous. Vilify me if you will; resent me and cast me aside. It is a price I will pay to know your light still shines in the world. But I take no credit for your act of bravery. That was all you.”

She felt tears spill their way out of her eyes, and she belligerently let them fall alongside the welcome rain, now angry that she was letting herself fall apart in front of him. She could see him subside; he had calmed from raging ocean to a still pond. He said nothing, just waited.

“Baldur’s Gate lies ahead, and so does the end of our journey. Soon I will be home. I will marry a man I do not love, to support a family who does not care for my happiness, and I will take my courage from you, from what you did today. Please grant me the blessing of knowing it was because you wanted to stay here, with me. Just let me have that, even for a moment, even if it isn't real.”

He stepped towards her, and she stepped back, as though it was the first move in a practiced dance. She knew he meant to comfort her; she was unsure how, but it did not matter. She could not bear it.

“No, please,” she pleaded, needing to be alone. Completely soaked by the rain, despite the warmth in the air, her skin was speckled with gooseflesh, her clothing clinging to her in soaked desperation. She felt ashamed and exposed in front of him. He was everything she wanted but could never have. Jealousy, anger, and longing burned within her. If he touched her, she feared she would flame to ash in his arms. “Please, leave.”

He gazed at her face, her damp skin flushed, her dark eyes deeper than he had ever seen them, the usual mischievous sparkle replaced with swirling fear and helplessness. He longed to comfort her, to hold her.

“You should not marry him,” he said, his voice nearly drowned out by the rain. The silence that followed was heavy with tension. She held his gaze, her tears halting along with her breath.

“I am acutely aware of the shackles that will bind you upon your return. The thought of it has seared my soul. I have seen people marry for all the wrong reasons—wealth, security, anything but love. Some found it suited them, others were torn apart. That fate is for the faint-hearted, and you are not one of them.”

This time when he stepped forward, she did not move.

“They are early spring, and you are blazing summer. They are dappled moonlight, and you are blinding sun. They are house cats and cart horses, and you are a wild thing. You should not marry him,” he continued, his sadness palpable in his eyes and voice. “You will wither.” The space between them felt heavy and charged, the air warm and heady in the humid rain shower. “You talked me down from my precipice; let me help you down from yours.”

She could bear it no longer. Meeting his eyes, she began to move with purpose. That was all he needed. Rushing forward, he pushed her back against the nearest tree. She mewled in surprise before his lips captured hers, soft yet determined.

“Gale..” His name fell like dropped silk from her parted lips. As soon as he heard it exhaled in breathlessness, all soft intent was washed away with the rain. His hands were everywhere, grasping at her soaked clothing, tangling themselves in her dripping hair, pulling her hips against him. The kiss was wet - rain heavy and so so desperate. His tongue danced with hers, in ways he had fantasised about alone in his tent. He had brought himself to ecstasy thinking about the touch of her tongue against his, about all the lust induced pleasure she could summon with it. He was desperately hard, unashamedly and wantonly pressed against her. He wanted her to feel the effect she had on him, how much he desired her in all her vexing, complicated, exquisite glory.

He had been angry, yes. He had been ashamed and guilt-ridden - but for reasons he did not expect. He did not feel as though he had let down Mystra, but that he had let down Tav. He had the opportunity to rid her of her burden, to strike down the threat which loomed over her head. She would be safe from the absolute, he could have given that to her, and she had talked him out of it. He felt like a coward, a meek ember undeserving of the vivid bonfire of a woman who had blazed her way into his heart.

He realised now, entangled with her in the wild rain, that he loved her. The simplicity of it was overwhelming. She was exceptional, and he loved her.

She had thought his feelings for her were wistful imaginings, but the truth was - he burned for her, he always had. Over the course of their journey, he had caught each glance with gentle hope and clutched them to him in times of darkness. He had saved every kind word and pressed them together into the pages of a book, to be taken out and skimmed through when he needed comfort. Her name was carved into his heart, and each beat belonged to her.

They broke apart, both panting and breathless from the force of their embrace and she laughed. The most beautiful, clear chime of a laugh which stirred his blood and flooded his veins with joy. He smiled at the sight of her, and with a wave of his hand created an invisible shelter above them to shield them from the rain.

“You couldn’t have done that before?” her pupils were so lust-blown the rich brown of her eyes were thin bands around black pools of desire, and her voice sparkled and danced through him.

He peppered light kisses along her jaw and down her neck, “And spoil your fun? I wouldn’t dare.” Her hands tangled in his hair in response, and she moaned as he licked away the rainwater which had gathered in the hollow of her throat.

“Lay down for me.” The grass beneath them was dry from his magic, and a soft purple blanket had been conjured out of nowhere.

She did as he was told, and the ease of her submission did something to him. She was wild, unpredictable and stubborn, and the way in which she melted and bowed at his touch, at his command, stirred him in a way he had not felt before. He was a man undone.

He spent time slowly undressing her, lifting the hem of her soaking wet shirt and kissing the plane of her stomach, working his mouth along the sensitive ridges of her ribcage, pushing her arms upwards so he could pull the sopping wet clothing over her head. As he lifted her arms he licked the curve of her breast, her collarbone, even her armpit. He wanted all of her, and she arched her back so beautifully under his touch that he could not bear to remove his mouth for even an instant.

“Gale, please.” He had never heard her voice so low before, so wanton and dripping with unfiltered lust.

“It is unlike you to be so well-mannered.” He teased between tonguing her damp skin “Where is the wild creature who has enraptured me so?”

Her response came in a moan so primal it could have been mistaken for a growl. She was an altar he couldn’t decide whether to worship at, or desecrate. He decided there would be time for both.

He peeled the rest of her clothes from her like the rind from a sweet fruit. Putting his mouth to every inch of flesh he uncovered. The rain mixed with the salt-sweet taste of her skin was fresh and heady, and he thought that no ambrosia could taste sweeter.

He proved himself wrong when he eventually pressed his tongue where she wanted it most, where her desire gathered like a fresh-filled rockpool. She was heavenly. Every moan he pulled from her was a claimed bounty, a treasure he would hoard till the end of his days. He dipped his tongue inside her, savouring her, coating his tongue with her and then swiping upwards to run over the small bundle of nerves which could undo her completely. Her hips bucked in response.

“Exquisite.” He said in between heated kisses.

“I want all of you inside me, please.” Her cry was more breath than words. Her fingers raked through his hair and the shocks of her touch ran all the way down his spine. “You shall have me, my love. Body and soul, heart and mind. All of me, eternally.”

“Enough poetry.” She whined “Gale..”

“I want you to come against my tongue first, sweet girl. I want to taste your undoing.” He re-focused his attention back between her legs, completely devoted in his worship, intent on receiving the holy blessing of her exalted cries as she lost herself beneath him. It did not take long. His tongue was firm, his dexterous fingers stroked into her and curled to find the hidden place of her rapture. His face was lust-soaked, head spun with desire, he was drunk on her pleasure and he ground himself into the earth beneath him as she unravelled with a reckless cry. He did not stop, he coaxed her through it, tongue softening and fingers slowing their pace as her wave broke and the relentless tide retreated. Even when she was spent, he continued to kiss her intimately, revelling in the soft pulse of her muscles.

She drew him close, kissing him slowly and wantonly, savouring the taste of her own salt on his tongue. Pulling back, she gazed into his eyes, tracing the rough shadow of his beard with the pads of her fingers, fulfilling every longing touch she had yearned for. Returning the favour, she undressed him, their laughter mingling as they wrestled with his soaked leather trousers, finally leaving him as bare as she. With him above her, their bodies pressed together, anticipation sweetening the air between them.

“You are a marvel.” She whispered, tracing the vein-like mark that swirled under his eye, “I will spend each second proving to you that you made the right choice today. That the world is a brighter place for having you in it.”

“I am completely in love with you.” was his simple response, and the smile it earned him rivalled the night sky with its radiance.

“The feeling is entirely mutual.” was her teasing reply. He offered her a single soft, chaste kiss, before running his hands once again up her arms. This time to pin her hands above her head. She gasped at the sudden change in pace, and his eyes gleamed wickedly. He kept her small hands grasped in one of his, and slowly stroked the other down her body. Tracing a path to where she was still wet from desire and the focus of his tongue. Her eyelashes fluttered beautifully as his finger lightly brushed over her, and her sharp intake of breath told him she was still desperately needy. “I’m going to need to hear you say it properly, Tav.” Briefly, his strokes became firmer, purposeful, stacking a pleasurable build back from the ruins of her last orgasm. And then, he withdrew his touch from her completely, leaving her bucking and helpless.

He kissed her throat and moaned against her skin, as he shifted his position to meet her heat. The tip of him pressed against her, and he had to dredge up every drop of restraint to stop himself pushing into her in one, hard stroke.

“Be a good girl, and say it.” Between the two of them, it was unclear who was more desperate, who was winning their little game. It didn’t matter in the end, the result was always going to be the same.

“I love you.” She met his eyes and poured every ounce of love-drenched sincerity she could into her words. She meant it. She would always mean it. And with her confession, Gale finally pushed himself into her, not breaking contact with the sparkle of her eyes as he moved himself inside her.

"Let me touch you, let me show you, please," she begged, her voice aching with desire. At her plea, he released her hands, and immediately her fingers roamed his body. Her pleasure soared as she finally explored him in ways she had only dreamed of, tracing faded scars and kissing each sun-browned freckle.

His pace remained deliberate, slow at first, savouring every moment as he pulled almost completely out of her before burying himself deep inside, revelling in her tight warmth. The pouring rain and distant rumble of thunder drowned out most of their passion's noise, but Tav seemed to take it as a challenge.

She matched his intensity, moving with abandon, grinding her hips against each dedicated thrust, enticing him to unravel, daring him to let go. And he did. His kisses turned into soft bites, caresses into bruising grips on her waist, her hips, the soft flesh of her backside.

Lovemaking turned to fucking, to pure desperation and relief. He rutted into her, primal and hot - the ability to speak a distant memory as all he could do was moan into her mouth as he approached his crescendo. He flipped her over, and placed one of his arms under her leg to move it upwards, and he fucked her into the ground. They were still soaked, and they didn’t know if it was from the rain, their sweat or their pleasure, neither of them cared.

He had angled her hips so he could move more deeply into her, and still wrap his arm around her to stroke her where she needed. It was exquisite. It did not last long. Tav threw her head back against his shoulder, and gasped out a choked cry as she clenched around him - wild and lost. The sensation of her was too perfect, and Gale followed her breathlessly and completely. All rhythm lost in the chaos of her unravelling orgasm.

As they descended from their high together, he gently turned her to face him, and kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose, the pads of each fingertip.

“I love you” her voice was soft hope, he gaze a bright future. They would keep each other safe, and face each challenge with hearts and hands entwined.

“The feeling is entirely mutual.” He replied breathlessly, and her laugh mingled with the sound of rain and thunder to create the most beautiful music he had ever heard.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale

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