#i want to breathe them in i want to take in their everything i want to be a part of them as if we were one person almost i just need them

[harunayuuka2060]

Chubby MC: *went to visit Coral Sea to give Jade and Floyd's birthday presents*

Azul: You're here. I thought you would try making excuses again.

Chubby MC: I was busy. And I can't breathe underwater.

Azul: I've been sending you potions to help you with that.

Chubby MC: Hm.

Azul: ...

Azul: *chuckles*

Azul: The twins are going to be happy to see you after not getting in touch for eight years.

Chubby MC: Sure.

Azul: ...

Azul: Is there something wrong?

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: To be honest, I'm not thrilled to meet anybody from NRC.

Azul: Why is that?

Chubby MC: Imagine. Eight years and I still look like this. *sigh* Tch. I've been airing out my insecurities. I'll keep quiet now.

Azul: ...

Azul: So, what did you get for Floyd and Jade?

Chubby MC: Something's within my budget.

Azul: *chuckles* Cheapskate.

Chubby MC: *frowns*

Chubby MC: I'm just a minimum wage earner, you capitalist.

Azul: *laughs*

Floyd: Beluga-chan~! *squeezes them*

Chubby MC: Don't squeeze the air out of me!

Floyd: But I missed you so much~

Chubby MC: Yeah! Yeah! I get the message! Release me now!

Floyd: Hehe~ Okay~.

Chubby MC: *takes a deep breath in*

Floyd: So~ What's my present~?

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: I got you this. *hands him a squishy hamster toy*

Floyd: Hehe~

Floyd: Hehehehehe~! So cuuuutee~!!!

Chubby MC: I made sure it's water proof.

Floyd: *hugs them* Thank you, Beluga-chan~!

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: *smiles* You're welcome.

Jade: *wants to approach MC but the other guests are blocking him*

The guests: Happy birthday, Jade. You're really a grown up now.

Jade: *smiles* Thank you.

The guests: Have you considered getting married?

Jade: ...

Jade: *subtle smirk* Yes.

The guests: *smiling in relief*

Chubby MC: Looks like Jade is busy.

Azul: Why not approach him?

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: No. I'll just leave my present for him with Floyd.

Chubby MC: Also, I think the effect of your potion is enough to get me back to the surface.

Azul: I asked you to bring three vials.

Chubby MC: Your message was too long. I didn't bother to read all of it.

Azul: You-

Chubby MC: Bye now.

Azul: ...

Azul: *sigh* Be careful on your way home.

Floyd: Here's Beluga-chan's present for you~.

Jade: *smiles* I like it. *MC bought him a pair of hiking boots as a gift*

Floyd: But you know, why you're so slow?

Jade: I beg to differ, Floyd.

Jade: There's time for everything.

Floyd: You think~? Because I'm guessing Beluga-chan doesn't even remember your promise~.

Jade: They do, otherwise, why would they remain single?

Floyd: *laughs*

Floyd: You're so full of yourself sometimes, Jade~.

Jade: You want to be their brother-in-law, right, Floyd? So I ask you to support me on this. *smiles*

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "hiii could I request a fic where paige meets your family and she and your toddler nephew end up loving each other and it makes the reader love paige even more 🥺🥺"

─ word count | 2.7k

─ warnings | nothing but absolute fluff, like seriously - sososo cute. parents being super welcoming (r has a sister and brother-in-law, i had to name the characters i hope yall dont mind), lots of banter/teasing, lots of basketball talk, BABY FEVERRRR!!!!!!!!! paige/dad bonding, umm.. nothing else??

─ ev's notes | the chokehold the pic in the middle has on me IS INSANE

"DON'T BE NERVOUS," you smiled reassuringly at your girlfriend, who was currently fixing up her hair in the rearview mirror of her car. "They're gonna love you."

You and Paige had been dating for almost a year now, it'd been pure bliss ─ it was everything you'd hoped for in a relationship and more. You'd never been more fulfilled in your life, and Paige felt the exact same way. As your relationship progressed, you realized that it was the perfect time for her to meet your family.

Paige had become such an integral part of your life, and so was your family ─ meeting them was now a milestone in the relationship, and you were never more excited for someone to meet your family.

As Paige put the finishing touches on her hair, you couldn't help but admire her. She looked beautiful, as always, and you couldn't wait for your family to see just how amazing she was.

Paige sighed nervously as you exchanged glances, yours soft. You reached out, gently touching her hand to reassure her more.

"They're really looking excited to meet you," you said, sincerity evident in your voice. "Trust me, they're going to love you just as much as I do."

Paige flashed a nervous smile, but you could see the hint of excitement behind it. She squeezed your hand gently, drawing comfort from your touch. "I hope so," she replied softly.

With a final check in the mirror, Paige took a deep breath and turned off the ignition. Stepping out of the car, she linked her hand with yours, and together you made your way towards the front door of your family home.

You knocked, and after a few moments, the door swung open to reveal your parents, who greeted you both with warm smiles. "Oh my god, Y/N!" your mother squealed as she pulled you into a hug.

You quickly wrapped your arms around her, engulfing her in a warm hug. Your dad gave you a quick hug before they turned their attention to Paige, a nervous smile on her face as she glanced toward you.

Your mother's eyes lit up as she turned to Paige. "And you must be Paige! It's so lovely to finally meet you," she exclaimed, opening her arms for a hug.

Paige returned the embrace, her tension visibly easing as she felt your family's warmth. "Here I, uh brought some wine."

Your mother's eyes lit up as she took the wine from Paige's hands, letting out a small laugh. "Thank you so much, Paige! That's very thoughtful of you," your mother said, her smile widening as she inspected the bottle of wine. "You didn't have to bring anything, but we'll definitely enjoy this."

Your dad stepped forward, offering Paige a friendly handshake and a smile. Paige returned the handshake, relief evident in her expression.

"I just wanted to make a good impression," she admitted, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

"Well, you've already done that," your dad chimed in, his tone warm. "Anyone who brings wine is definitely welcome in our home."

You and Paige exchanged looks before laughing, your parents joining in after a few seconds.

With that, your family ushered Paige inside, leading her to the cozy living room where the fireplace crackled warmly. The familiar smells of home cooking made Paige relax as she began taking in your home, more specifically ─ the baby photos.

"That's Y/N and her older sister, Marie." Your mother spoke fondly as she saw that Paige was looking. Paige looked back at you with a warm smile.

As your mother pointed to a particularly old photo, Paige's gaze lingered on it, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She turned to you, her eyes reflecting the affection she felt. "You were such a cute kid," she teased gently.

You chuckled, feeling a rush of affection for Paige as you shared a knowing look. "Well, I had good genes to work with," you replied, reaching out to squeeze her hand affectionately.

"Oh! Speaking of babies. Honey, is Jordan coming tonight?" Your mother chirped toward your father, who was currently looking at the old photo album.

Paige glanced toward you with a confused expression before your mother clarified, a small smile on her face. "Jordan is her older sister's kid, he's adorable."

"You're gonna love him," you whispered toward your girlfriend as her smile got even bigger. If there's one thing everyone knows about Paige, she's the best with kids.

Your father nodded toward your mom, a smile on her face. "Oh yes, he is. He loves basketball, too." His eyes lit up as he glanced toward Paige, a grin on his face.

"Dad," you mumbled, an embarrassed tint on your face as he put his hands up in defense. He definitely did his research on Paige and he was going to make sure he used it. "My dad loves basketball-"

"What? You didn't tell me that!" Paige exclaimed as she glanced toward your father, a grin playing on her lips.

You sighed, sharing a glance toward your very amused mother. "Yeah, cause I knew you two were just gonna talk about basketball for the rest of the night."

Your dad chuckled, shooting you a playful wink before turning his attention back to Paige. "When Y/N told me that she was dating a basketball player, I didn't she meant you."

"I remember me and Daniel, you don't know him yet but you'll definitely meet him ─ were talking about you were the future of the WNBA, and the next day I get a call from Y/N, telling me she was dating you, not even joking. Sweetheart, tell her."

"Yes, it's true. I was there," your mother confirmed with a nod as Paige let out a laugh, glancing toward you.

"I was starstruck, if I'm being honest," your father continued as he grinned at Paige. "I woke up the next day and went to the country club, telling all my pals that my daughter is gonna be the future Mrs. Bueckers."

"Hey, who said I'm taking her last name?" You joked as you sent your father a playful glare.

Your father laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, you better start getting used to the idea, sweetheart," he teased, his grin widening.

"We actually already talked about this, she is taking my last name." Paige spoke proudly as your father clapped, causing a small laugh from your mother.

You couldn't help but chuckle at the playful banter between your father and Paige. "Looks like you've got it all planned out," you remarked, shooting Paige a fond smile.

Paige grinned, nodding in agreement. "Hey, tradition's tradition,"

Your father clapped his hands together in mock triumph. "That's my girl!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride. "Mrs. Bueckers sounds amazing, just so you know. Also, season tickets... you know anything about those?"

Paige sent your father a cocky nod, as he clapped his hands again. You couldn't help but laugh at your father's enthusiasm, shaking your head in amusement. "Dad, slow down," you teased, shooting him a playful glare.

Paige joined in the laughter, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she exchanged a knowing glance with you. "Well, I do like the sound of Mrs. Bueckers,"

Your father grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll take that as a yes," he replied, his grin widening.

Your mother chuckled, shaking her head affectionately at the scene unfolding before her. "Oh goodness, you two are getting too carried away."

Before anyone else could respond, the front door opened to reveal your older sister and her husband, who was holding a toddler. Your sister's arrival drew everyone's attention, and a chorus of greetings filled the room as she and her husband stepped inside, their toddler squirming in his father's arms.

"Oh finally," you exhaled as Paige laughed. "You came at the perfect time, Dad was pimping me out for season tickets."

Paige burst into laughter at your comment, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she glanced at your father, who was trying to stifle his own laughter. "That's not was happening, like at all."

Your sister raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "That sounds like dad," she teased, shooting a knowing glance at your father as you laughed. She met Paige's gaze with a smile as she outstretched her hand. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I'm Marie, Y/N's older sister."

Paige returned Marie's smile warmly, shaking her hand with genuine pleasure. "It's so nice to meet you, Marie," she said, her tone friendly. "Y/N has told me so much about you."

Marie's smile widened at Paige's words, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh, has she now?" she replied, her tone teasing.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Marie's playful response, shooting Paige an amused glance. "Only good things, I promise," you interjected, earning a laugh from your sister.

Her husband quickly joined the family in the living room, your nephew still holding onto him as he observed the scene in front of him. He gave Paige a quick smile and a nod. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I'm Max,"

Paige returned the smile and nod, her warmth extending to your brother-in-law as well. "It's great to meet you too Max," she replied, her tone friendly.

As your nephew continued to observe the room with wide-eyed curiosity, Paige couldn't help but feel a surge of affection. "Is this Jordan?" she asked, her voice gentle as she directed her attention towards your nephew.

"Yeah, that's him," Max answered, his voice exhausted as you exchanged glances with your sister.

"He gave us a hard time getting here," she laughed as Jordan kept gazing at Paige. Jordan quickly ripped his gaze away, tightening his grip on her father as he looked away. "Aw, he's getting shy. He's probably just as starstruck as Dad,"

Everyone in the room began laughing as Paige shook her head in amusement, feeling a tiny bit cocky knowing that your entire family were practically her biggest fans.

"Dinner's just about to be ready, Marie honey, can you help me set up?" Your mother asked before she quickly shook her head. "Actually, Max, can you help me instead?"

You exchanged a confused look with Marie as she smirked, walking away toward your father as she begun talking with him. Max quickly handed Jordan off to you before he began following your mother toward the kitchen.

Paige's attention was quickly diverted to Jordan, who was slowly turning to look at her once again. Her heart swelled as she looked at the toddler, feeling a rush of affection for the little boy.

"He's so damn cute," she mumbled as she gazed down at him. You looked at your girlfriend, feeling a rush of affection for her as you watched her interact with Jordan.

"You like basketball?" She asks as you rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh. Of course that'd be the first question she asked.

Jordan began nodding slowly, a small smile on his face. "Yes,"

Paige's eyes lit up with excitement at Jordan's response, and she leaned in closer to him, her smile widening. "That's awesome!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You know, your aunt Y/N is actually dating a really, really cool basketball player."

"Oh shut up," you laughed as she kept looking at the boy, his smile turning into a grin.

"Auntie Y/N," he repeated with a grin as Paige nodded, a proud grin on her face.

"Yeah, that's right!" Paige affirmed with a chuckle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she glanced at you. "Auntie Y/N is dating a basketball player who's not as cool as you, of course,"

Jordan began laughing as he watched Paige, before he began squeezing his fists toward her. Paige chuckled at Jordan's playful gesture, delighted by his infectious laughter.

"He wants you to hold him, baby. Here, my arm's getting tired." You spoke softly as Paige's smile widened, quickly taking the toddler from your arms.

You watched as Paige continued to engage with Jordan, her warmth and kindness evident in every interaction. With gentle hands, she lifted him up, settling him comfortably in her arms as he giggled.

"There we go," Paige cooed softly, her voice filled with tenderness as she adjusted Jordan's position. "You're such a little sweetheart, aren't you?"

Jordan nodded enthusiastically, his laughter filling the room as he nestled into Paige's embrace. With a contented sigh, he rested his head against her shoulder, his small arms wrapping around her neck in a tight hug.

"Oh my gosh, he loves you so much already." Marie remarked softly as she watched, her expression slightly shocked as you smiled loving toward your girlfriend.

"She just has that effect on people," you said with a warm smile, your gaze filled with pride and affection as you watched Paige and Jordan. "He barely likes me, it's insane how he already loves you."

Marie nodded as she laughed. "Yeah, she's not exaggerating."

"Are we sure we're talking about the same kid?" Paige mumbled as Jordan kept gazing at her, tightening his grip on her with a contented sigh. Paige's heart swelled with affection at Jordan's gesture, and she returned his hug with gentle warmth.

Paige chuckled softly, her heart warmed by Jordan's affectionate embrace. "Looks like I've got a new best friend," she said with a smile, her voice filled with tenderness as she gently stroked Jordan's back.

Jordan nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with joy as he snuggled closer to Paige. "Best friend!" he exclaimed happily, his voice filled with excitement.

Paige laughed as she glanced at you, her gaze adoring as she pulled the toddler closer. Your heart swelled at the sight, feeling your love for Paige somehow triple at the mere sight of her with Jordan.

Paige's ability to connect with others, especially with children, never ceased to amaze you. It was one of the many things you admired about her ─ her kindness, her warmth, and her genuine love for people.

With a fond smile, you reached out to gently tousle Jordan's hair, earning a giggle from the delighted toddler. "Looks like you've got yourself a new best friend," you remarked, your voice filled with affection as you looked at Paige.

Paige grinned, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she nodded in agreement. "Yep, and I couldn't be happier about it," she replied, her voice soft and tender.

As the night came to a close, you and Paige had to say goodbye to your family and head home. Jordan, thankfully, was asleep by the time you'd left because if he wasn't, you're sure he would've rioted. With hugs and promises to see each other soon, you and Paige made your way back to her car, hand in hand.

She pulled you closer into her chest as she grinned, gazing down at you. "I don't think I've ever wanted a baby more, baby."

You glanced up at her with a small smile, feeling your cheeks flare up. "Me neither, I want a baby. Like, right now."

"I know," Paige mumbled as she unlocked the car. You leaned against the car as you pulled her closer, engulfing her lips in a sweet kiss. "I didn't think I'd be leaving your house with a baby fever, but here we are."

You laughed against her lips, the warmth of her laughter mingling with yours as you pulled back slightly, your foreheads touching. "Yeah, well, Jordan does have that effect on people," you joked, your heart filled with love for both Paige and the little boy who had captured her heart.

Paige chuckled softly, her arms wrapping around you as she leaned in to rest her forehead against yours. "I can't wait for the day when we have our own," she murmured, her voice filled with tenderness.

But before you could respond, you suddenly heard a loud toddler scream from inside your home. You and Paige exchanged glances before bursting out in laughter, knowing that Jordan's riot was indeed imminent.

"Well, it looks like we'll have to wait a bit longer for our own toddler," you joked with a chuckle, your heart filled with amusement. She nodded as she laughed, shaking her head as she reluctantly let go of your hand and got into the driver's seat.

With a shared laugh, you both made your way back to the car, the sound of Jordan's screams echoing in the background. As Paige settled into the driver's seat, you joined her, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

"You wanna go comfort your new best friend, baby?"

Paige sent you a playful glare as she turned on the car, shaking her head. "I'm good, maybe later."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[anakinstwinklebunny]

what about nerd! anakin as spiderman head cannons

SPIDERMAN!ANAKIN HEAD CANNONS 🕷️🕸️

(whoever wrote this, I love you, I adore you please come back 🙏)

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who constantly uses your window to get inside your room. He would always knock softly on it, waiting for you to open

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who goes to you after his every mission always wanting you to check and take care of his bruises/wounds. Even if it's just a small scratch he would still go to you, having in mind that it's just an excuse to spend more time in your presence

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who ALWAYS asks for kisses on his already treated wounds/bruises. Anything. He'd just ask for a kiss, pretending it still hurts and that only your lips will help

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who has a very specific way to take you on the dates. He'd appear by your window, again, in his suit to only grab you by the waist and swang through the city on his spider-web (sometimes, to tease you, would throw you in the air before catching you again with a grin under his mask as you clung all scared onto him)

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who makes his web in school's chemistry class, pretending to do some school's project

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who loves to spend time with you as "basic" anakin that isn't a guy in red suit, making the media wild. He'd often buy you flowers, standing at your doors with this cute smile

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who loves star wars and would often tell you everything he knows about them while his head is on your chest, your hand twirled in his hair

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who makes sure you're all safe when you go back to home after school

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who teasingly leaves small notes in your locker, initiating things he wants to do with you. Bet he'd call himself things like "your friendly neighbornhood spiderman"/ "your dearest spiderman" at the end of the note

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who loves when you kiss him while he's hanging upside down on his web

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who loves when you call him; spider guy, spidey, spider boy

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who would get more confident within himself after spider's bite (his body being more toned and defined). He'd move his arms in different angles to tease you while his muscles flex

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who loves to have you on his lap. Putting red lipstick on you so you could leave lip prints on his face

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who's obsessed with you wearing red/blue colours for obvious reasons

TW: mentions of smut

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who definitely uses his web to tie your hands while making love to you, knowing how much it'll piss you off since you love touching his body. Or use it to cover your mouth to muffle your moans

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who loves your plump thighs. Would leave small kisses on your soft skin while you're laying on his bed, scrolling through your phone.

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who leaves bite marks on your neck to mark you

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who loves to take his time with you. Would never take things forward without foreplay

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who's addicted to your breasts. He'd give them more attention than on other spots. His slim fingers would play or squeeze them, rolling his thumb over your hardening nipple while watching with delightful eyes as your breath hitches

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who takes you slow and hard, groaning/whimpering compliments/words of encouragement like; "shh..just a little bit more"/ "eyes on me when i fuck you, baby..c'mon"/ "mine.." he grunted "only mine"/ "ahh--atta girl..making me all proud and happy, taking it so good like that"

"oh..i--" you breathed out "i--can't take this"

"c'mon sweetheart" he grunted, slowly starting to thrust forward "you've taken worse than this. You can handle me..we'll go nice and slow, hm?"

🕷️ Spiderman!anakin who can't go without giving you an aftercare after taking your ability to walk 🕸️

I want to dedicate this to @yrsjune that account is deactivated now, missing you love <3

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @heartsforanakin @divineani

(if you want to be on the tag list then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[sykosugu]

subject to change | choso kamo

summary: in which you are a fairly inexperienced romance author and Choso is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan.

wc: 12.6k

pairing: choso kamo x fem!reader

warnings: porn w/ plot, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, (there's a lot, buckle up) if I missed anything pls let me know!

carlile speaks: hi again, loves! this is another story I wrote for Harry but felt the itch to change it around a bit to fit for one of our jjk daddies. choso just so happened to be my guinea pig for this one. I sincerely hope you all enjoy! this was originally two parts but I made it just one this time around!

“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 

“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.

“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer. 

“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”

“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 

“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 

“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 

“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 

You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.

“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Cho’s Place in big red bubble letters on the wall. 

Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with light brown eyes, dark chestnut tufts, and a smile plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.

“Choso. Choso Kamo. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?

“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?

“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.

“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.

“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.

After your sit down meeting with Choso and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Choso asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.

You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 

“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.

“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.

“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.

“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.

“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?

“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.

“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.

You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”

“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 

“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.

“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 

The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.

“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.

“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.

“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.

“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.

He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”

“Choso. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”

“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 

“You sound so romantic, Choso,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.

“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.

“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.

You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Choso all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 

He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Choso may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.

After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.

The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing.

Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.

The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”

Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.

His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 

Your breath hitches.

“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”

A whimper escapes you in response.

“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.

Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 

Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 

That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”

Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Choso withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”

His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 

“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.

Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Choso’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”

Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.

“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.

“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Choso keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.

Choso maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 

“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.

“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.

“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.

Choso smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.

His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Choso slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 

Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.

Choso settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your folds apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; spreading across the surface. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface

“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.

“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”

“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.

“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.

“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.

“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”

“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.

He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.

“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 

Choso reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.

“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..

“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 

“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.

“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 

You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.

“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”

His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.

“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.

“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.

“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”

“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Choso stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 

You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.

“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.

You smile.

“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.

“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 

“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 

“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”

“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 

“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”

You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Choso after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.

“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.

“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”

“C-can you touch m-me, please?”

“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 

“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”

“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”

“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”

Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Choso’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.

“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.

“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Choso groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Choso’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”

Choso eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.

“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”

“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 

“So, was that everything you wanted?” Choso asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.

“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.

“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 

Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.

“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 

“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 

“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?

“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 

You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.

Choso’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.

“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.

“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’d gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.

“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy, up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Choso. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.

“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.

“You sure you have everything?” Choso asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.

“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?

“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 

How dare he.

“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.

“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.

“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Choso. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.

Choso did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.

He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.

Sometimes Choso swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.

You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.

It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Choso hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Brody? Who was Brody? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.

Oh, a new post.

You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.

Interesting.

Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.

You’d tried to move on from Choso. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Brody, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 

You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Choso had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Choso’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Brody was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 

You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.

“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Brody would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.

Brody broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.

Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 

The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”

About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His light brown eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 

“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.

“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 

Choso studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Cut the crap, Choso. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.

“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 

“I don’t know, Choso,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.

“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”

He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”

Walking into your hotel room with Choso in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.

“What are you actually doing here, Choso,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.

“Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.

“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.

“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 

You were born at night, but not last night.

“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 

“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.

“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Choso? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”

“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”

“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”

“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.

“No, Choso,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 

“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Brody as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Choso doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Choso.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.

“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Brody.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.

“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Brody’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Choso sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.

“Choso, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 

“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.

“H-Choso, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 

“P-please, t-touch me.”

“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Choso presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.

“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.

Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.

“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Choso chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.

You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.

“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Choso grins down at you.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I did have a boyfriend, but he wasn’t you,” you whisper.

“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Did Brody take care of you like I did?”

“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He wouldn’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.

He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Choso would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.

“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 

“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 

“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 

You nod. 

“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.

You smile. 

Big.

“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.

“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Choso for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 

You nod frantically in his hold. “Cho-Choso please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.

“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”

“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.

“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 

He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Choso? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.

“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.

“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.

“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 

You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Choso slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 

“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.

“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.

“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.

“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Choso’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 

“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.

“Fuck my throat, Choso,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.

“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 

“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 

“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Choso spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 

“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.

“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Choso,” you plead with him.

“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Choso’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.

“Y-yes, Choso,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Choso settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.

“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 

“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”

Choso dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 

“Oh, fuck, Choso,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging at the roots. 

“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.

“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 

“T–too much, Choso, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.

“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.

“So fucking good, Choso,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 

“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Choso with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 

“Hgnh, Choso. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Choso knew.

“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Choso begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Choso reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 

But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so good.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 

He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 

“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Choso.”

“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”

“G’na cum, Choso,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 

“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.

“Cho, please, please, please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.

“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 

“F–fuck, Choso,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Choso swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back.

“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.

“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it? C’mon pretty, give me number five.”

“Ch-Choso, I–I ca-can’t.”

“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 

Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding his free hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Choso’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.

“G’na cum again, oh god, Choso. G’na cum!”

“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Choso’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Choso was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.

“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.

“I-inside. Fill me up, Choso,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.

“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that?” 

“F-Fuck, yes, Choso. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Choso. So good, baby. So good.”

“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”

The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.

He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.

“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.

“If I believe in love.”

“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.

“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 

There is none.

“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.

“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.

heart divider: @benkeibear

[vivwritesfics]

I need just the tip with hangman

Heed the warnings for this one - but at the same time I need this Hangman to rail me within an inch of my life lmao, I could write so much for these two

Warnings: smut, age gap, power imbalance, virginity taking, innocence kink, fingering, p in v

The Squad didn't know that Maverick had a daughter when that mission happened. No, they found out about his daughter after, when things were normal and Penny invited them all over for a barbecue in the garden.

Upon hearing that Maverick had a daughter and she was on her way, they all expected her to be Bradley's age or near enough.

They didn't expect her to be in her early twenties.

They didn't expect her to be a stunner.

Maybe it was the beers that gave Hangman such loose lipped. But he couldn't stop that 'holy shit' from slipping out. Who could blame him, though?

But then...

"Bradley!" She ran into Roosters arms and wrapped her own arms around his neck. Figures, Jake couldn't stop himself from thinking as he looked at them.

He didn't interact with her at that barbecue, but he was acutely aware that her eyes didn't leave him. After a few more drinks she whispered something in Bradley's are, something that had him standing up and saying 'No way!'

The next time Jake saw her was at the beach. She giggled, waved and batted her eyelashes at him before she ran back to her friends.

Jake couldn't take his eyes off of her if he wanted to. Everything she did, it was like she was putting on a show for him and only him.

But, even then, Jake didn't approach.

It was only when he found her at the hard deck. He didn't know she was there looking for him, the handsome aviator that her dad knew.

She sat alone, drinking as she waited for Jake to walk in. And, when she did, she was on her feet, standing beside him as he leant against the bar, ass sticking out.

Jake was sweating. Here was Mavericks daughter, pressing her ass against his dick.

"Hey, Hangman," she said as he turned towards him and wrapped her lips around the neck of her bottle, deep throating it.

Jake visibly gulped. His hands were on her hips ss he stared down at her and leaned forward. "Does this shit work on the boys your age?"

She shrugged her shoulders in such a sweetly, innocent way. "I wouldn't know," she said, breath hot on his ear.

Holy fuck, she was a Virgin.

There wasn't much that could restrain Hangman at that point. But Penny's eyes on him certainly did. He kept her near him thought, kept an eye on her while they drank.

And, at the end of the night, he took her back to his truck.

"Is your dad gonna kill me when I drop you home?" Jake asked when he began driving.

Her fingers danced up his thigh and she let out a hum. "Not if you take me back to yours ," she mused as she popped the button on his trousers.

How was Jake supposed to say no to that? He sucked in a breath as he went past her place, continuing on to his own. Her breath hitched when she realised, but Jake didn't notice.

Jake parked up outside of his place. He helped her out of the truck, but they didn't get further than that. No, Jake had her against the truck, lips bruising against her own.

She moaned against him, hands pulling at his hair. Jake threw his head back, a moan coming from the back of his throat. "Holy shit," he groaned as she attached her lips to his neck.

With her legs around his waist, Jake carried her into his house, with his hands under her ass, squeezing and kneeding at the flesh. He managed to open the door and dropped her on the bed.

But then his hands were on her thigh, pushing her skirt up. Suddenly, she was nervous under his pretty gaze. "Wait," she squeaked, grabbing his wrists.

Jake let out a breath as he looked at her. He moved his hand to her knee and moved his thumb from side to side. "What is it?"

"I-I've never done this before," she whispered, and Jakes eyes softened.

He leaned down and kissed her, softly this time. "I'll take care of you," he whispered against her lips.

She nodded. "I've got you, Bug," Jake whispered as his hand moved down from her knee. His fingertips brushed her thighs and touched her through her underwear.

"Holy fuck," she whispered.

Slowly, he pushed her underwear to the side. His rough fingertips were gentle against her clit, and every touch had her crying out for him. And, each noise she made was music to Jakes ears.

The way she writhed beneath him, Jake couldn't stop watching her. He kept his thumb pressed against her clit, his long fingers pushed inside. One at first, but even that had her gasping.

"Hangman," she cried, throwing her head against the arm of the sofa, back arching.

There was something about that, something about her calling him by his Callsign. It unlocked something animalistic in him. But he was still taking things slow and gentle.

As he worked her open, he freed himself from his trousers. She opened her eyes and looked down at him, looked down at where his hard on hit his stomach.

"Jake," she squeaked, and he stilled his fingers. "I-I don't think I can take that," she whispered.

He didn't mean to smirk, but he couldn't help himself. "Too big for you, Bug?" He whispered as he pulled his fingers out of her cunt. He placed them between his lips, tasting her, releasing a hum. "So sweet, Bug."

She whined beneath him, hips moving on their own.

"How about just the tip?" He asked almost sweetly, and she rapidly nodded her head.

Jake rolled the condom into his length. He stood before her and she reached down to wrap her fingers around him. It was such a pretty sight, one Jake didn't think he'd ever get enough of.

He eased himself forward, nestling the head of his cock between her folds. She let out a whine and grabbed his hand, squeezing as he eased himself forward.

"Just the tip," he reassured her, squeezing her hand.

The way she squeezed him, it was almost too much to handle. Jake pulled back and eased himself in again, this time a little further. Her breath caught in her throat and he pulled back again.

"Sorry, Bug. Just the tip, I know."

Jake couldn't wait to have her bent over the arm of the sofa, cock splitting her folds as he ravaged her.

[rootbeerworshiper]

Through the Window

summary: An incident causes you to change schools your senior year. Although your expectations for another bad school year are low, a boy through the window changes everything.

warnings: mentions of bad relationship between parents

a/n: soooo i said i was taking a break and now im writing a series… but! so excited for this it’s been sitting in the drafts for a while and i finally have the motivation. enjoy!

love, sienna <3

I rub my face, the pads of my fingers grazing over my shut eyes as I let out a sigh. To say I was completely exhausted would be an understatement.

The thirteen hour drive in order to get here drained out about every ounce of energy I had stowed away. Sitting in the backseat while my parents give each other snarky remarks, constant bickering on the “correct way” of arriving to our destination.

Moving halfway across the country senior year was not going to be easy, I know this, but part of me had hope.

A chance for a new start.

The fresh Somerville air fills my lungs as I pick up a cardboard box and walk into my new house, ignoring my parents completely on the way to my new room as I place the box on my bed—well my mattress, seeing as we haven’t unpacked everything and i’m living the first few days without a bed frame.

This room was definitely a lot different than my last, off white paint covering the four walls around me and a large window with a long cushioned seat below it. The wood trim reminds me slightly of my old house, like a small piece of it is here with me even though i’m so far away.

I plop down on the mattress, breathing out as my hands make contact with the cardboard next to me. I use what little strength I have left to rip open the packing tape that encapsulates my life, packed into a brown box.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, keeping the loose hairs out of my face as I lean forward slightly.

Given that it’s currently twelve in the morning, I don’t have any desire to fully unpack, just simply reaching into the box for a lamp to illuminate the undecorated room. The room I’m supposed to consider my own.

With the lamp being plugged in I’m able to turn off the overhead lighting, the warmth of the dim lighting immediately making me feel more at peace in this unwelcoming environment.

Somehow, Im expected to start at my new school tomorrow—being given absolutely zero time to settle in.

I don’t even bother changing, just grabbing my toiletries from my backpack to brush my teeth.

As much as I am tired, I also don’t feel completely ready to go to sleep and immediately start a new life, so I reach into the same box and grab out a journal and a random pen.

I opt for taking full advantage of the window seat in this room, curling up in the corner of the crevice, propping my legs up on the cushion before opening my journal.

It’s definitely a little… sad in here.

Journaling is not something I’m good at, but my therapist back home was very adamant on it so I gave it a go.

Once I start writing though, it’s easy to get lost in a trance, only focused on the thoughts in my head and the black ink on the paper in front of me.

This is before the darkness in my room becomes more illuminated by the house next to me, a bedroom light from across now being switched on.

I don’t want to stare, but I’m interested to see who my new neighbours are, so I look over.

My eyes are quick to focus on the light blue room, random sports posters hung up around as well as a few stuffed animals placed carefully on the bed.

Before i’m able to fully examine the room, a boy my age rushes in, slamming his door shut and immediately sitting on his bed, tension formed in his hands.

His brown hair is slightly damp, as if he had just came back from playing some sort of sport that’s caused the strands to stick to his forehead. He looks exhausted—both mentally and physically.

It’s clear he’s upset and soon enough tears start welling in his eyes, not that he lets them fall though. His hands constantly wiping the tears away before they’re fully formed, as if he’s trying to avoid crying all together.

I try and revert my gaze back down to my journal, although it’s hard to focus on my own sadness when his looks so prevalent.

I know what it’s like when it gets bad, and it hurts me to not be able to go over and help, but again, I have no idea who he is.

It’s as if he had no idea I was here until right now, his nails leaving his mouth as he walks towards the window, making brief eye contact with me before immediately shutting the blinds—blocking me out.

I feel a light sting to my heart, for whatever reason I feel obligated to make him feel better. I’m sure his smile is really nice and it’s unfortunate that a frown now replaces it.

I take that interaction as my sign to go to bed, setting down the half completed journal and plopping into bed.

————————————————————————

A familiar alarm rings loudly next to my ear, signalling for me to wake up. I groan, slapping at my phone until the noise stops.

Usually I’d fall right back asleep, but now that I’m awake I can’t help but let worry override my need to sleep.

A new school, a new city, with new people.

Fuck i’m terrified.

I had tried so long to be hopeful, to ignore my parents snide comments about our lives changing for the worse, but being optimistic is kind of impossible when everything in your life is going wrong.

Nonetheless I get up, a surge of energy pushing up my muscles when I think about what im gonna wear—I haven’t even unpacked my makeup yet.

Getting ready doesn’t normally take me long, at least it didn’t a few months ago, but now I’m constantly getting distracted. Picking at the few pimples that have entered my previously clear face and running my fingers along the eye bags that I can’t seem to kick.

I wish sadness didn’t impact the way I look.

I’ve always loved fashion, constantly playing dress up throughout my childhood with my best friends. Sometimes I still feel like I’m playing dress up, putting on a facade, except this time I’m alone.

I shake my head, forcing on a smile that hasn’t been real in a long time, praying that maybe this time will be different.

When I walk downstairs all I find is my mom sitting at the dining table, a laptop placed in front of her as she rests her head in her hand.

It’s clear she’s stressed so I try and avoid speaking, my bus is supposed to be here in a few minutes and I just need to pack lunch.

Because we just moved there’s very little in the kitchen for me to eat, nothing but yogurt cups close to expiry and healthy granola bars that have lived in our pantry forever.

It’s not an ideal lunch, but based on my mom’s tense shoulders and her scattered sighs, it’s best not to interfere.

I make note to remind my parents about my school lunches when they are in a better mood, although that mood for them hasn’t existed in my presence since the incident.

My hands grab at the granola bars, getting a handful and tossing them into my backpack.

I look to my mom once more, hoping to make her feel better. “Hey, everything okay?” I ask, placing a hand on her upper back as I look towards the laptop.

She rejects my touch immediately, turning towards me with a look of distain on her lightly wrinkled face. “Why would I be okay y/n? This town has nothing but cloudy weather and jobs that won’t hire me.”

My attempt to console her clearly failed, her sour mood overriding any form of kindness she could show me. “Really good pizza though.” I joke, referring to the takeout we ate late last night.

“You’re gonna be late to school.” She mindlessly replies, looking back at the job sit displayed on her computer.

She never was one for small talk, but it also wasn’t always this bad. I used to look up to her a lot, wishing one day i’d be just like her, but now I want nothing less.

I just nod with a tight lipped smile on my lips, choosing to slide my shoes on and throw my backpack over my shoulder.

Opening the front door I send one more look towards my mom who shows no interest in me. Is it weird to say you miss your mom when she’s right there?

I shake it off, stepping out onto the porch before coming to a very unfortunate realization.

Fuck.

If my morning wasn’t bad enough, my bus is driving away, the tail end of the yellow vehicle being the only thing I can see down the street.

I shut the door behind myself, my dad took the car and my mom is in no mood to find a solution for me, so I begin walking—not that I know where the school is.

The best distraction for me is music, so I plug in my headphones while simultaneously getting the directions to the school on my phone.

The morning air causes a wave of refreshment to wash over me. I can’t harp on the negatives of my life, especially when the trees are swaying in the wind and the sun is shining.

It’s a longer walk then I expected, but by the time arrive at school I’m only a couple minutes late.

I rush through the halls, mindlessly searching for the numbers that lead to my classroom. This is until I walk around the corner a little too fast and immediately bump into someone. “Oh sorry, fuck I’m sorry are you okay?”

He laughs, not at me for once, a comforting laugh. “You’re good I promise.” He looks at me closer, studying my face. “Have I seen you before?”

I cough, clearing my throat. “Um probably not, I just moved here from Indiana so.” He nods his head, for whatever reason he looks incredibly familiar and I can’t figure it out. “Do you mind showing me to my class? I’m already late and I have no clue where im going”

He smiles warmly down at me. “Yeah I got you.” He takes my phone to look at the number displayed before beginning to walk. “You’re an AP kid?”

“Uh sort of. Just for english, I’m really bad at math and shit.” I reply, following him as he walks casually through the halls.

“Me too, I’m supposed to be in algebra right now but I can’t be bothered” he laughs slightly. “I think my brothers in your class, do you know a Nick?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “You’re a senior right?” He nods. “How is your brother also a senior?”

“Oh we’re triplets, we look a lot alike we’re just very…. different.” He replies, still joyfully walking without a worry in the world. It really must be nice to feel that way.

“Oh I see.” I say, nodding as we walk up the stairs. Walking around the school feels like the equivalent to running a marathon, especially on my lack of sleep.

He motions to a classroom with the numbers i’ve been searching for. “This is you.”

I smile gratefully. “Thank you.” I pause. “What’s your name?”

“Oh I’m Chris” He reaches his hand out for a handshake, a dumb smile on his face. one that I could really get used to.

“y/n.” I reply, returning the gesture.

“Well y/n you should probably get to class, that teachers kind of a bitch about people showing up late.” He advises, running a hand through his wavy hair. “i’ll see you around yeah?”

I nod, maybe too eagerly but it’s genuine. I just made a friend and I could not be more excited, even if I’m late on my first day. “I’ll see you.”

My hand hesitates slightly before ultimately twisting the door knob and entering the class. Almost instantly I feel all eyes in the room on me, the teacher looking more than unimpressed.

Great way to start the year.

The classroom is slightly bigger than my old schools. There’s light seeping in through the windows and the whiteboard is already filled with different literary devices.

I find peace seeing as there’s a large bookshelf at the back, I have spent more than enough money on books so it’ll be nice to read for free.

“Nice of you to show up” She remarks with a tight lipped smile, motioning for me to take a seat.

“Sorry I couldn’t find the class at first, I wont be late again Miss Harper.” I mumble, looking around for a place to sit and seeing an empty chair next to who I assume is Chris brother.

I walk over, an awkward smile on my face as I pull up a chair next to the boy. He seems all too uninterested in me, gaze dead set on the teacher as she goes over what to expect for the semester.

I lean into him slightly after setting down my bag on the floor, if he’s anything like his brother we’ll be friends in no time. “Hey are you Chris’ brother? He just walked me to class and you two look a lot a like so.” He just cuts me off.

“If you’re just another one of Chris’ many fan girls just know i’m not interested in being friends with you.” He throws me an annoyed look before resting his chin on his hands and looking back to the board.

I let out a quiet sigh, leaning back into the uncomfortable school chair and crossing my arms. I’ve immediately lost all confidence I mustered up. I guess Chris was right when he said they were different.

Luckily the class went by quickly and I was able to find the other two classes easily enough. What I couldn’t stop thinking about was lunch, and as the bell rings it consumes me.

At my old school, most seniors didn’t stay at school for lunch, being in the cafeteria is generally not a common occurrence for anyone old enough to drive.

This leaves me stuck. Sitting alone in the cafeteria sounds awful but so does any other option, especially because I don’t even have a lunch today, the granola bar wrappers sinking into the bottom of my backpack.

I walk out of class, taking in all the new places and people before settling on a familiar face that’s smiling back at me.

Thank god.

The short walk through the chaotic hallways is not enjoyable, I’m practically ran into twice on my way towards Chris.

“What’s up y/n? How was your first day so far?” Chris asks. “Was Harper a bitch?”

I let out a breath, one of literal relief as a real smile enters my lips. The first in a while. “It was good mostly, I met your brother in my english class.” I reply, now walking beside him through the crowded halls.

It’s admirable how nice he’s been to me since the beginning, that’s not treatment I’m used to receiving from people, especially not at school.

“How awful was he? On like a scale from one to ten.” He jokes, waving to random people in the hallway that must be his friends. I had zero idea he was so popular around here.

“Out of respect to you I’ll choose not to answer that.” I reply. “He could be worse though, trust me.”

Before he can reply to me he catches the eye of his brother and a girl who I don’t recognize. “Are you coming for lunch?” Nick asks Chris, purposely avoiding eye contact with me.

“I think i’m gonna go with y/n today, maybe tomorrow though.” Chris replies looking down at me with a reassuring smile.

This only earns an eye roll from Nick. “How many girls are you going to ‘take out for lunch’ and then end up bringing home?”

Chris scoffs, but I try my best to stay out of the sibling drama. Part of me just hoped Chris didn’t only speak to me because he wanted to take me home. I just wanted a friend.

“It’s so not like that but you think whatever you want kid.” The longer haired boy replies, now walking towards the back doors.

I follow beside him until we make it outside, the sun now beating down on us but the small gusts of wind making the september heat bearable. “I’ll take you to my favourite place.” Chris says, head still up as he continues walking at a leisurely pace.

I’m not sure where this favourite place will be, but it’s not like I have any other option.

The walk is short, comfortable silence filling the space between us as we approach a large tree in the field behind the school. “Isn’t it nice here?” He asks, sitting down next to the stump, back resting against the bark.

“It’s definitely a tree!” I reply sarcastically, still moving to sit across from him in the grass.

He pulls out a ziploc from his bag, containing a sandwhich that was very obviously made by him. I throw a slightly judgemental look at the messy sandwhich only earning a smile in response.

“What? You don’t think I’m a pro chef?” He asks, taking a bite but keeping his eyes on me.

“No i’m just really jealous of your artistry with that pb and j.” I joke, leaning my hands down onto the spiky grass.

“Tell me about yourself.”

If only it were that easy to just speak about myself. I usually avoid it if I can, instead paying more attention to everyone that surrounds me.

“That’s very vague, I don’t know if I have anything interesting to share.” I reply sheepishly, trying desperately to choose the right words.

He lets out a breath as he finishes the last of his lunch. “You’ve got something I know you do. a mysterious pretty girl from Indiana wandering the halls of a new school. That’s already interesting.”

The compliment takes me aback, reminding me too much of the people who would call me that in my past. “Are you hitting on me Chris?”

He laughs as if it’s the most outlandish thing I could ask. “Definitely not. I mean not because of who you are, you’ll be fine pulling at this school. I just have my eyes on someone else at the moment.”

“Yeah? And who’s that?” I inquire. It’s easier knowing I can speak to him without there being a different motive.

The last thing I want out of this school is to be seen as meat for people to enjoy watering their mouths at.

When I was younger I had so much hope that I’d find someone who wants me for my personality, at the time that meant someone that shared my love for Gravity Falls but now I just want to be admired for what makes me different. I wish that wasn’t so impossible now.

What I notice right away, is how his face lights up at the thought of her. A smile creeping onto his face as he searches for the words he needs.

It’s subtle, the only reason I’ve noticed it is because I tend to observe people. But it’s sweet how easily his cheeks cast a flushed pink at the mere thought of the person he admires.

“Remember that girl that was standing with Nick?” I nod. “It’s her.”

“So why does Nick seem to think you’re a man slut?” I ask, maybe more abruptly than he was expecting.

“I try to distract myself with other girls. Which, I know is wrong, but if I only focus on Olivia then it gets a little depressing.” He admits, now averting his gaze away from me at the uncomfortable conversation.

“Why couldn’t she be into you back? Have you tried telling her how you feel?” I ask, prying away slightly at his feelings. I’m genuinely just curious as to how someone like Chris isn’t able to confess how he feels.

“It’s different when it’s someone I actually like. When it’s other girls it doesn’t really matter as much to me because it’s not her.” Chris replies. “I wanna be done with this sad conversation though, anyone caught your eye here?”

It’s silly to me that Chris seems to think I was focused on dating on my first day here. That was genuinely the last thing I was thinking about.

Nonetheless a face immediately comes to mind, just not one I saw at school. “In what world did I have time today to scope?”

“Well I don’t know, figured you’d be bored during one of your smart people classes.”

“The last thing I need is another boyfriend, that didn’t end well for me.” I reply. I’m not sure what it is that’s making me open up so easily to him, but it feels safe.

“Guys usually suck, I’m one of them. I just need to make it my mission to find you a guy that doesn’t.” He smiles, playfully punching my arm to bring the mood up.

He’s definitely good and making people smile, but it didn’t work on me all that easily when I think about myself in a relationship.

“I’ll make it my mission for you to confess to Olivia, then we’re even.” I suggest, reaching my hand out for a shake.

“Deal.” He shakes my hand in return before checking the time on his phone. “We should head back in now, you’ve been late enough times today.”

I roll my eyes at him, standing up and bringing my bag up with me.

A random car from the parking lot honks at Chris, a car full of guys laughing as if making a loud noise with their truck is the funniest thing in the world. “Are you popular or something?” I ask, now walking back to the school.

He laughs at that. “I just play hockey, it’s a big thing here.”

I nod slowly, processing the new information. “I know fuck all about hockey to be very honest.”

“Well as long as you’re my friend you’ll know all about it, i’m trying to be D1 next year.” He says, now opening the door for me and allowing me to walk in ahead of him. “Do you play sports?”

I let out a small sigh, once again being reminded of Indiana. “I used to in my old town, I was pretty good too.”

“Really? What position?” Chris asks, keeping his attention on me as we walk together despite the many people looking at him in the halls.

“Outside hitter. I really love it but had to stop because-“ I stop myself, realizing just how easy it is to share everything with Chris. It’s more dangerous than it is charming. “Yeah I had to stop.”

He doesn’t push, even though I can see the look of curiosity on his face. “You should play at our school, the seasons coming up.”

“I’m not sure if that’s the best move. I’m new here and I don’t exactly wanna be doing anything to stand out. Easier to just sit back and observe.” I reply honestly, still taking in all my new surroundings.

“Is that what you do all the time?” He asks, a hint of pity lines his words. Pity has never been the goal, quite the opposite actually.

I place a faux smile on my lips, looking up at him right before we have to part ways to our respective classes. “Maybe this year will be different. I’ve made a friend on the first day which is already out of character.”

“I’m happy to be your friend, you’re easy to talk to.” He says, a sappy undertone to his sentence.

An unfortunate fact about me is my inability to accept words of affirmation. I’m not sure why it’s this way, but I think deep down it’s because I could never say those words to myself, so it’s impossible to fathom other people saying it.

My face literally cringes at his upfront lovingness, but I attempt to not look too disgusted. “I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

Chris lets out a small laugh in reply. “My numbers in the side pocket of your backpack by the way.”

“You’re lucky I know about your girl bc you are the most flirty person out there.” I say slightly louder as I turn my back to him, now focusing my attention to getting to class on time.

For the first time in a long time everything feels okay again. I’m not stressed about what everyone’s saying about me and I don’t have eyes glued on me.

In a way it’s nice to be invisible.

a/n: this chapter ended up so long but that’s okay!! let me know your thoughts and feelings i missed u guys <3333

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia @watercolorskyy @luv2matt @deadxrx @sturniclo

[kentopedia]

˚₊‧꒰ა skin — chuuya nakahara

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. chuuya's acting different… but you brush it off and don't think anything of it.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, suggestive but sfw, f!reader, domestic life, established relationship, implied dubcon, open ending, horror/mystery elements, wc: 2.5k

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. i'm a bit nervous to see how this will be received, so pls reblog or drop a comment if you enjoy <3

part of my summerween series !

the scent of freshly brewed coffee and your favorite breakfast food are the first things that you smell when you wake up. for a few moments, you think it’s a dream — when’s the last time chuuya cooked this early in the morning? you half expect to walk out there and wake up again later, finding that you’d never opened your eyes at all.

but when you roll out of bed, tug a robe over your shoulders, chuuya is there, a presence larger than life, almost, standing in front of the stove, and you are undeniably awake.

you wrinkle your eyebrows together, glancing at the plates scattered across the counter. in your two years of marriage, this is the first that you’ve seen such a display. chuuya isn’t a morning person, he never has been, and usually something quick is enough to settle his stomach for a while.

“chuuya?” you asked, sitting at the table, his back still turned to you. he’s fully dressed, hair falling in loose waves over his shoulders, burning brighter from the sun filtering in through the window. “what are you doing?” 

your husband turns, smiling at you over his shoulder. as always, it takes your breath away. he is so handsome, sometimes, it makes you forget yourself. “can’t i cook for my beautiful wife?” he asks, sliding a cup of coffee to you on the tabletop. 

you smile, as his hands graze your temple, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you never cook breakfast. you don’t like it.”  besides, this is far too much for two people to enjoy.

he laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then the small, confused wrinkle between your eyes. it slips away as you sit up straighter, capture his lips with your own, tasting the coffee on his mouth.

“but you do,” chuuya says.

you’re honestly indifferent towards breakfast, but you let it slide, tucking your chin into your hand as you watch him work away. if he wants to do something nice, you’re not going to stop him. “weren’t you supposed to leave for a job this morning?” 

chuuya shrugs, “i’m reassigned, i guess the boss wanted to send akutagawa instead. i’ll be staying in the city for this one, so you won’t get the chance to miss me.” 

it makes sense now, why he had so generously made you breakfast. you stand, taking a longer sip of your coffee, before going to wrap your arms around his stomach, smell the hot food that wafts from behind him. “oh, so you had some time to kill?” you tease, running your hands across his abdomen. “and you decided to cook instead of doing… something else?” 

your fingers trace a pattern around the zipper of his jeans, which are steadily growing tighter. chuuya grabs your wrist, tugs your hands away with a pointed look. “yes,” he says, through his teeth. “and you’re making it difficult.” 

you lazily grin back, pressing one last kiss to his jawline before grabbing your coffee again, and standing beside him at the counter. 

chuuya cooks with a precision that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before, delicately measuring each ingredient, tapping them into the bowls and pans. usually, he goes by his own instincts, and while he is by no means a great cook, he pulls things together in a way that only he could do. now, though, he seems almost uncertain, like he’s silently praying that everything will turn out alright.

“chuuya?” you ask, watching him carefully. his face contorts strangely as he looks over at you, but then it clears up, and he smiles, looking just as warm as he did the moment you walked into the room. 

“yeah, baby?” 

you want to ask him if he’s feeling alright—but that would shatter the mood, wouldn’t it? the serene morning bliss that has settled between you, as it so rarely seems to anymore. and it’s a blessing, not to have to watch him walk out that door and put himself in danger, able to spend more time with you. 

shaking your head, you smile, and kiss him on the cheek softly. “never mind. i love you.” 

“love you too.” he says it back immediately, which is also a little unlike your husband. there is always a pause before, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to maintain this sort of affection, like it’ll be taken away if he dares to speak the truth. he cherishes the love he has for you in that tiny pause, before relinquishing it, shoulders only relaxing when he sees you standing there, safe and sound. 

but it’s been years since you’ve been together. you’re married, settled down — as settled as he can be as a mafia executive. perhaps he’s just relaxed into the fact that your love is eternal, and he's more confident in the notion that it won’t be taken away from him. 

the rest of the morning passes quickly, when you and chuuya find yourselves back into bed, mouths still tasting of coffee, the windows open just enough to clear out the smell of sweat between you, and the pans that have not fully been scrubbed. 

at some point, you feel asleep, and you wake back up, overheated from the sheets tucked closely to your naked body. the sunlight filtering in through the glass is worse than metal of a furnace. your hair sticks to your scalp, and you spend the next half hour in the shower, dreading the looming months of summer and the heat that comes with it.

although there’s plenty of things for you to do while chuuya’s gone, you don’t feel like doing much of anything. just one of those days, you reason, even if it’s hard to rationalize that, when chuuya’s out there risking his life, and you’re inside, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and the picking up books you can’t bring yourself to read.

it’s a blur of a day, between very slowly making your way through the pile of laundry you’d forgotten to fold, and cleaning the sheets that had been washed just a few days earlier. chuuya returns, and suddenly, your foul mood caves into something much more pleasant, that pit in your stomach dissipating. 

you still worry about him, constantly, even though you know he’s chuuya nakahara, and there are very few things on this earth that can challenge him. still, he’s your husband—you can’t help it.

chuuya kisses you as he returns, smiling into it, his fingers curling into the hair behind your ears. 

“i can make dinner tonight,” you say, even though you don’t really feel like it. but he sees right through it, just like you knew he would. you can’t hide much from him. 

“it’s okay. i’ll pick something up. know you haven’t been feeling up to it this week.” 

you smile and kiss the palm of his hand, the leather of his glove cool against your mouth. how nice it is to be so loved by him, to be seen, for even the simplest of signs. “okay. thanks.” 

he nods, leaves to retreat into the bedroom and change his dirtied shirt into a clean one. it’s then, that you notice he’s laid his coat across the back of one of your chairs — unusual, for him to wear it so far into the house. 

you furrow your brow and pick it up, planning on hanging it on the rack by the door. but you notice, then, that it’s an older one, different from the coat he normally wears. the designer is the same, but there’s a hole in the pocket, which tells you he didn’t care enough to have it fixed. 

an odd feeling twists itself inside you again. a bout of paranoia, likely. that’s all, isn’t it? you’re just having an off day, an off week, and you’re projecting that onto your husband, for no reason at all. 

a sigh escapes you, and you shake your head, simply hanging it back up on the coat rack, when you notice his hat isn’t there either. 

you frown, glancing back over your shoulder to the chair, the rest of the room. chuuya hadn’t been wearing it when he’d walked in, and you can’t remember seeing it on the rack before he left this morning. 

which was odd. chuuya never went anywhere without it.

you jump, a vibration pulling you out of your thoughts, your cell phone ringing, buzzing on the table right by the doorway. it’s chuuya’s name flashing across the screen, a photo of him bright under the glass.

“hello?”

“hey, baby.” 

you release a breath at the sound of chuuya’s voice. it instantly relaxes you, even though you, really, have no reason to be so alarmed.

your shoulders sink down, the tension draining from your body, and you smile instead, amused that he’s calling you from just one room over. the affectionate name twists your stomach up in butterflies and knots, and you roll your eyes. “hi, chuuya.” 

“you have time to talk right now?” 

“i suppose.” 

“you suppose,” chuuya replies, snorting. “and here i thought you’d be happier to hear from me. i was about to apologize for not calling you earlier and everything.” 

that’s a weird thing to say, you think. “chuuya, you know, you didn’t need to call. you could’ve just walked back in here.” 

there’s a pause on the other end, a muffled sound in the background, like he’s getting out of a car. “what do you mean?” 

“i mean you could’ve just walked back in here.”

he doesn’t seem to understand, and fakes a laugh. “very funny.” there’s a voice on the other end, and chuuya says something to the sound, before turning his attention back to you on the phone. your brow furrows, eyes drifting over to the door. “anyway, i only have a few minutes, but—”

 “chuuya,” you say, feeling a tiny rush of fear swallow you. something is wrong. there’s no one in your house besides you and chuuya, and he’s been in your bedroom for minutes. you turn back around, facing the front door. "where are you?” 

“huh? i’m in osaka, remember? i told you about the entire thing last night.” he sighs, something between irritation and amused fondness.  “we had a pretty long conversation about it.” 

“osaka?” you repeat. “but—i just saw you. just a few minutes ago. just this morning”

there’s silence on the other end of the line, as chuuya breathes, gathers his thoughts. you can tell, even within a second, that he’s either trying not to panic, or let his confusion give way to anger. “no, you didn’t. i left early this morning, you were still sleeping—”

“who are you talking to?” 

you freeze. it comes from chuuya, but the chuuya that’s behind you, not the one you’re talking to on the phone. there’s a pinched look on his face as you turn, pretending like nothing is wrong. a guarded expression that wasn’t there before. 

your mind goes blank as you stare at him, mouth growing dry. “i—”

“say dazai,” chuuya says through the static of the phone. you’re not sure how he heard the imposter at all, but it settles you, snapping you back into action.

“dazai?” you nearly spit.

it’s not often you chat with dazai, of all people, on the phone. you’re not particularly close. but it’s a good call by chuuya. dazai wouldn’t be keeping tabs on the port mafia member’s whereabouts, wouldn’t know that chuuya was out of town, and akutagawa was never reassigned. but he’s still dangerous. still someone that could be a threat to whoever is pretending to be your husband.

“dazai," you continue, recovering from your questioning response smoothly. "can i call you back later?”

chuuya speaks to you the other line, playing along. “i’m going to call someone to come over there. pretend like nothing’s wrong. everything will be okay.” 

you feel tears prick the back of your eyes — you don’t want chuuya to hang up, but if the fake chuuya finds out you know, it could be an even worse outcome. 

“okay. got it. i'll call you tomorrow then.” 

“i love you.”

you resist the urge to answer the sentiment, and hang up the phone. 

the fake chuuya stares back at you, as intently as you stare at him, neither of you blinking as you put your phone back into your pocket.

“what did dazai want?” he asks, standing straight, his back tense as you take a step forward. 

there are a lot of weapons hidden around this house—chuuya has more than a handful of enemies, and wants to be prepared in case they ever find where he lives. where you live. 

you’d thought it overkill. now, you’re grateful to have at least a fighting chance; if you can only get to the pistol that he keeps in the closet, at the end of the hallway. 

“he’s working on a case. thought i might have some intel. i told him i’d look over the details tomorrow.” 

“i see.” chuuya — not chuuya, you remind yourself, even though he’s wearing his face — nods. he watches you walk closer the closet door, eyes darting between the handle and your body. his eyes flash. 

“you know,” he says, crisply, stopping you in your tracks. “i thought the phone might cause some issues. should’ve blocked the number this morning. amateur mistake on my part.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean your husband called, didn’t he? the real one.” not chuuya smiles, but it’s ugly, almost as if it’s contorting, melting off his face. “you know he’s been gone all morning. it wasn’t him who made you breakfast, took you to bed after.” 

nausea fills your gut, and you look away, swallowing down the disgust that you feel. you can’t think about that. not now. 

“although, you wouldn’t have known by the way i touched you, would you? how i knew exactly what you enjoy. i have every one of chuuya’s memories now. i know all about him, all about you.” he takes a long stride. you’re both just a pace away from the door, from the gun. if he has any of chuuya’s strength, you’ll lose—you’re no match for that kind of power. 

you just need to hold him off, long enough for whoever chuuya sends over to help you. 

“and also,” the fake chuuya continues lazily, a laugh clipping at the end of his words. “i know about the gun you’re looking for.”

there’s a dark grin on his face that propels you into action. you lunge towards the closet door, throwing it open, and chuuya lets you. he laughs darkly, doesn’t make any attempt to stop you from fumbling around the inside of closet for a gun that he put there. it doesn’t take you long to figure out why.

the gun isn’t there.

thank you so much for reading! ❤︎ title and inspiration come from ep 1.06 of supernatural- tag list: @little-miss-chaoss @erebus-et-eigengrau @soleelia @k0z3me

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I just want to thank you all for the love, support, and wonderful messages you’ve been sending me because of this series. Summary: You’ll never survive if you don’t learn to depend on yourself. But this world is harsher and crueler than you’re prepared for. Still, you can’t let that hold you back, you need to try and live without Cooper.

He shot up at the sound of a gunshot. It echoed through the trees, closer than he was comfortable with. Instinctively, he reached out to shake her awake, prepared to tell her to grab her shit and run. His hand hit nothing but air and he sighed when he remembered the way she’d stalked off. 

He threw his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards her. He couldn’t see much until he rounded the tree, her bag was gone and so was she. Another shot rang out through the forest. He sighed and made his way back towards the fire. He grabbed a lit stick and used it to illuminate the forest floor to get a better look at the footprints around the area. 

As far as he could tell no one else had passed through here while he’d been sleeping. So where the fuck was she? Another shot went off followed by the sound of her scream. “Fuck,” he ripped the gun out of his holster and followed the tracks as best he could. 

The closer he got, the more it sounded like two wild animals fighting. She was cussing up a storm, screaming at whoever was trying to grab her. He still hadn’t managed to get a good luck at where she was. It seemed darker in this section of the forest, like it was purposefully trying to keep him from her. 

There was the thud of a body hitting the ground and then someone was running. He could hear them trampling through the undergrowth going right past him. Someone was whimpering in pain and he instantly thought of her on the ground bleeding out. Without much aim he shot in the general direction of whoever had run off, he heard a yelp but they didn’t stop. 

“You alright sweetheart?” He heard more than saw anything as she scrambled to her feet and ran off into the forest. “It’s only me!” He gave her a minute to realize she’d run from the wrong person before he figured that she knew exactly who she was running from. She must have still been pissed at him for what he'd said earlier. Rolling his eyes he tracked her limping gait through the steps in the mud. 

“Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck,” you whimpered, teeth digging painfully into your lip while you peeled your clothes away from the wound on your side. You slowed down, unable to stay on your feet with how quickly the blood was oozing out of the hole near your ribs. You slumped over, letting yourself fall against a tree and stripped off the top half of your clothes. 

Your fingers pressed weakly against the hole and you let out a choked sob. Dammit, hurt like a fucking bitch. With shaking hands you dug blindly through the bag at your side. You’d lost most of your supplies in the fight but you were hoping the stimpak Cooper had given you earlier was still in here. 

You weren’t sure exactly how these worked but he’d told you it would heal nearly everything. Though, he’d said if a wound was bad enough even a stimpak couldn’t bring you back from the edge. You were praying that this would work, but after the past few days you didn’t have much faith in your luck.

The injector shook in your hands and you knew if you didn’t use it soon you weren’t going to make it. Taking in a deep breath you slid the needle into the skin, as close to the wound as you could get it. You could feel holes on your back and front, you were grateful at least that you didn’t have to worry about trying to dig a bullet out. 

You pressed down and let yourself sink back against the tree as medicine rushed through you. You ripped the injector once it felt like you’d gotten everything. 

With nothing to occupy them your hands fell limply to the ground. You needed to get up, try and reorient yourself and make it to Filly. But you were so tired. You barely noticed the way the wound continued to pulse, the slow dribble of blood leaking onto your hands. All you could see were the stars, so many more than you were used to. 

With no one left to pollute them, they were boundless. You let out a weak sigh and your eyes drifted shut. You thought of Cooper before it all went black. The way he was before, the way you were before. 

It was too dark to really track much but he was sure he was getting close. He could hear her whimpering in pain and figured she’d slow down soon enough. She shuffled around like a wounded animal, graceless and stumbling. 

He tried and justified this to himself, he needed her to deal with Ma June. Honestly, though, he knew he didn’t. He could just give up, set up camp again and wait for morning to come. She’s the one who decided she didn’t need him anymore. No fucking reason to keep going after her. She’d dug her own grave, it was time to let her lie in it. 

Still, he kept going. He ignored the nagging voice that pushed him to stop and turn back around. He pushed anything down that wasn’t useful in the moment. 

She should stop soon, she was just putting herself in more danger by continuing on like this. But, he figured she was pissed off and just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of needing his help. She had always been stubborn to a fault, he guesses even that hasn’t changed. 

Though, if she wanted to make it out here she was going to need tougher skin. It didn’t matter if what he said was true or not. You can’t afford attachments out here.

The sooner she learned that the better. 

There was a loud cry of pain and then he heard the sound of her keeling over against a tree. He grinned, ready to pounce on the opportunity to get on her about being so fucking stupid. “See, this is why you shouldn’t run!” He called out. 

Something lit up the path ahead and he ducked behind a tree instinctively. He peered around the trunk and marked the direction the torches were coming from. They weren’t close enough to be a problem, not yet at least. If he was lucky it would just be some travelers. He might even be able to get some supplies off of them. If he wasn’t, it would be raiders. 

Seeing as she seemed to be his own personal jinx, he figured they only had a few minutes until the raiders were on them. She wouldn’t be much use to him bleeding out. He strode over to her curled up form, she had a hand wrapped around her stomach and in the dark he could barely make out the blue of her uniform. “Come on, let’s go.” He nudged her with his boot but she didn’t move. She didn’t even make a sound. “Come on,” he tried again, kicking harder this time while he watched the torchlight get closer. 

Angry, he knelt down and rolled her over. But the face staring up at him wasn’t hers, it was some fucking raider. Must have been whoever she was fighting with. Shit, that meant he’d shot her. Cooper rubbed his forehead in irritation. Nothing could ever be easy with her could it?

Footsteps sounded closer and Cooper knew his time had run out. Whoever this woman on the ground belonged to had come to collect. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Cooper’s hand moved to his holster and he looked up at them, a grin on his face, “Gentlemen.”

“Grab her legs. Come on, hurry up, don’t have all day!” Hands wrapped around your ankles and you jolted awake. You kicked out, eyes blind to anything but the memory of the raiders from before. The old woman at your feet jumped away from your weak attack and frowned down at you. 

“Well, shit, she’s alive.”

An old man walked out from behind you. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He crouched down, groaning as his knees cracked in protest. He leaned towards you and you flinched back, eyes wide as you watched him reach out to you. His hand hovered your face and you braced yourself for an attack. He only poked you, though, frowning when you winced away from the prodding of your bruises. “I’ll be damned, she is.”

The old woman sighed and threw a bag over her shoulders. You watched in horror as she tucked a pack of surgical tools into the pocket of her large skirt. Were these people about to carve into you?

What the fuck was wrong with this goddamn place?

The old man held out his arm and she limped over to him, taking it and walking away from you. You glanced around, still confused on what the hell was going on. “Hey!” You croaked. Your hand wrapped around your waist, prodding the wound. You were shocked to find it healed over, only a dull ache left in its place. “Hey!” You shouted again. 

The woman turned around and glared at you. “What?” She screeched and you winced at the way it echoed through the trees. 

“Where’s Filly?”

She shared a look with the old man and they both stared at you like you were crazy. “Right behind you,” they walked off without another word, seeming sorely disappointed that they hadn’t been able to dig into you. 

You groped blindly through the dirt and grass around you until your fingers felt the handle of your bag. You curled your hand into a weak fist and tugged it towards you. You felt completely drained. But you couldn’t stay here, not unless you wanted to be turned into someone’s next meal. 

You groaned and forced yourself to your feet, head swimming with pain and nausea. You zipped your suit back up and winced at how it stuck to your skin. Your blood still hadn’t dried completely, you looked down and grimaced at the crimson stains covering you. No wonder it hadn’t dried, it looked like someone had dunked a bucket of red paint over you. How the hell were you still standing? 

You’re not sure what’s worse right now, that you’re not surprised you got shot or that you can’t figure out whether he shot you on purpose or not. 

He’d made it clear what exactly you were to him. A hole to fill, as he’d so eloquently told you. And you’re pretty sure you’d made it clear that you weren’t interested in filling that role for him ever again. At least you hoped you did, last night was an adrenaline fueled blur and you weren’t positive you were remembering everything properly. 

You can barely recall that raider jumping you, you just know you’d shot your gun off and made a run for it. The bullet hole hadn’t even caught up to you until you were about half a mile away. Maybe Cooper had shot you on purpose. It’s not like you contributed much and you doubted he really needed your help in Filly. 

Made you wonder why he bothered keeping you around for as long as he did. 

You could hear it now, Filly, you’re not sure how you didn’t before. You couldn’t see it yet, but you could hear people calling out their wares and haggling about prices. You hurried as much as you could, one leg dragging behind you slightly. You’re not sure when that got hurt, but you could barely work your right hip properly. 

Little houses were popping up around you. They were sparse and resembled shacks more than anything, but it was just another sign that you’re one step closer to not having to worry about getting shot at every five minutes. 

In front of one of the nicer homes was a clothesline. You slowly approached, eyes on the clean clothes that were beckoning you closer. You kept your hand on the handle of your gun just in case the owner of the home spotted you. What you really didn’t need was getting killed over a shirt. 

You glanced around, not seeing anyone watching you. Your gaze went back to the clothes and you frowned. If there was one thing Cooper taught you it was that no one asked in this world, they took. You ripped the clothes off the line and ducked behind a tree to change. 

Even with the blood still caked onto your skin, you felt cleaner than you had the whole time you’d been up here. Getting rid of that ridiculous suit was good for a few things. You’d blend in better with the people here in a tank top and ratty old brown pants. And you almost felt like you were getting rid of the memories attached to that suit.

It was as close as you could get without grating your skin off at least. 

You dumped your old outfit behind the house and near their clothesline. A transaction of sorts. They could have your blood soaked clothes and you could have their clean ones. Not a fair trade, but better than anything else they’d find up here. 

It didn’t take long to find the entrance to Filly, once you did you found yourself nearly cowering at the sight of all the people bustling through. Sure, it wasn’t a lot compared to California. But you’d been traveling with no one but Cooper for the past week through a barren desert. Not counting the raiders as human, you’d almost forgotten that other people existed. 

A man jumped at you and shoved a skewer of meat in your face. “Dogmeat, get your dogmeat!” You grimaced and backed away from him. So, not as civilized as you’d hoped, but you’d take what you could get. 

The biggest one nodded towards him, “Grab him.”

He grinned and shook his head, “I wouldn’t.”

The boy on the far left had his head blown off before he could even try and charge at him. He ripped the shotgun off his back and shot the other two in quick succession. He didn’t bother with them, seeing if they lived or died. He kicked at the woman at his feet again and she winced in pain. 

“The woman you fought. Where is she?”

She shook her head and curled further into herself. He sighed and grabbed her chin, wrenching it up to his and letting her get a good look at his disfigured face. She tried to shrink away from him but he tsked and shook her so hard he could hear what few remaining teeth she had rattle. 

“I don’t know,” she cried out, batting uselessly at his hands. 

“I really think you do.”

He reached down, groping over her torso and digging his fingers into the bullet hole on her side. She cried out in agony, writhing like an animal caught in a snare. “Filly, she was heading for Filly!”

He grinned and dropped her to the ground, her head thudding loudly against the large tree root. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

She looked up at him in fear, “You’ll let me go?”

He tilted his head, looking her over and taking in the sight of blood on her clothes. “Well, you did attack my friend,” he lifted his gun and she cowered away from him. “I don’t take well to others damaging what’s mine.”

Her brain splattered against the trunk and he stepped over her twitching body to follow the light he noticed further down the forest. He didn’t often find himself exploring these woods at night, he figured he was close enough to Filly but he needed her to confirm it. 

For a moment he lets himself doubt that she was really abandoning him in the middle of the night. Maybe she’d gotten up for a piss and been caught off guard. He dismisses the idea when he remembers that she’d taken her bag with her when she’d gone. 

He doesn’t let himself linger on it too long, pissed off that it’s bothering him at all. 

He’d seen the hope starting to form in her eyes when she’d look at him. She was getting a little loose with what she was calling him too. A little while longer together and he’s sure he’d be hearing his name again. Saying what he had was a favor to them both. Better to cut that off before anything came of it. 

Stupid fucking girl, he shouldn’t even be thinking about this anymore. He shouldn’t be looking for her, either. The confirmation that she’d left him was enough. Their time together was done, it should have ended a long time ago. He’s pretty sure he liked it better when he just thought she was a two-timing slut. 

Hate was easier than whatever the fuck this was. 

He spotted smoke through the trees and then the raiders camp. They were laughing at something and ripping into a roast that looked suspiciously like a human leg. He pulled his gun out and snuck behind them. He just needed a distraction, he’d be over this once he helped himself to their meals and their bedrolls. 

“What?” 

“Caps,” the girl’s voice was distorted by whatever metal oddity she had connected to her throat. She glanced at you, completely uninterested once she’d realized you didn’t have any payment for her. Not that you really understood the payment required. 

Who’d decided bottle caps were a good currency? 

“Well, do you know where I could get them?” She nodded towards a building adjacent to her stall and you frowned. 

The store she pointed to you clearly advertised, WE BUY TEETH. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Or,” you glanced at her with hope, “you go to that alley over there and get on your knees. You could probably get five caps off someone if you suck good enough.”

You glared at her and started walking away from her stall in anger. “I’d get more for my fucking teeth!” You shouted over your shoulder. She shrugged and went back to fiddling with the metal tools on her table. 

You stood in the middle of the marketplace, desperately trying to figure out where you should go. You almost missed Cooper right now, he might be a dick but at least he understood how this place worked. 

You felt an intense ache of betrayal and longing and immediately dismissed any thoughts of Cooper. He could go and get himself shot for all you cared. You loved him, and would have loved him no matter how he looked. It didn’t matter that he was changed, disfigured, you didn’t give a shit about any of that. You just wanted him. And all he cared about was having a pretty body warming his bed. 

You would do this without him. 

You glared against the bright sunlight, scanning each storefront and trying to find something that could help you. You’d already tried to talk to Ma June but she hadn’t been as pleasant as you had been hoping. She wasn’t looking for workers and apparently not charity cases either. 

You didn’t think you were a charity case but apparently having all your fingers and teeth made you an outsider here. You needed to get out of this sun, you didn’t want these clothes to start stinking with sweat so soon. You were trying to keep them as clean as possible for as long as you could. 

You spotted the bar and decided to try your luck there. Maybe you could be a waitress or something. If they still had whores they had to at least have servers here. 

Right?

Maybe you were a fucking charity case. You shook off the thought and ducked inside. You were never going to get far on your own if you kept doubting yourself. You might be a bit naive to how this world works but you’re a fast learner, you’ll catch on soon enough. 

You still wished someone was here to help you. 

He sat down on a log, ripping a piece of meat off the skewer and sinking back into his seat. He ate his food and picked at his teeth, bored while he surveyed the damage he’d done to the camp. She wasn’t exactly a heavy conversationalist, but at least she was something. 

It was startling just how quiet and still the night felt without her sitting across the fire with him. He loathed to admit it, but her company had at least provided him with some entertainment if nothing else. Now everything felt too quiet, too lonely. 

He sighed and shook his head, this was stupid. Two hundred years he’s been on his own. A few nights with her wasn’t going to change who he was. It wasn’t going to fix him and magically turn him into her Prince Charming again. 

Unbidden he thought of her face when he’d grabbed her from those raiders in the old neighborhood. It’s the first time anyone’s ever looked relieved to see him since he’d changed. He’d had to pry her off of him and even then she seemed like she barely wanted to let him go. 

He hadn’t made anyone feel safe in a very long time and he worried a bit for her sanity if she thought he was trustworthy. He was only doing more harm trying to go after her. But something in him couldn’t let go. It was like the love you used to share had been warped alongside him. 

He didn’t like the idea of anyone else getting their hands on her. She was his to fuck with and torment, anyone else would push too much. He felt confident, despite tonight’s incident, that he knew how to poke her without going too far. 

Once he was full he shoved a freshly killed raider off their bedroll and settled down to sleep. He figured he’d have better luck recognizing where he was once the sun came up. 

The next morning he went through the raiders’ pockets and bags, lucky enough to find some Radaway among their junk. Maybe he was right, maybe she was a bad luck charm. Maybe he was being stupid last night, thinking about what they used to be. There’s no point in dwelling in the past, he can never go back to that and neither can she. 

Still, he could leave her alone. Give her a chance to make it on her own without him there to torment her. 

He considered it for about two seconds before he dismissed the thought. You’d both had a deal and she had rescinded on that deal. He didn’t take to kindly to people screwing him over, he’d just have to teach her not to fuck with him. 

He tossed his bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the raider’s camp. He had a better idea of where he was now. It wouldn’t be much further until he reached Filly and found her again. He was intent on making sure she stayed with him this time. 

He’d leash her if he had to. 

“There’s nothing I could do for a few caps?”

“I could think of something darlin’,” a man hollered at you from across the makeshift bar. The building was in pretty good shape, though the alcohol looked questionable. The owner seemed nice enough, a wrinkled old man whose hands shook too hard for him to pour a drink without spilling it. 

“Don’t need any help.” The old man muttered under his breath, tottering over to the other side of the room to pour another cup. He ended up knocking it into the man’s lap and cussing as the alcohol poured across the floor. 

“Right,” you muttered. You let your head fall in your hands, rubbing your face in frustration while you tried to think of what to do. You’d made a deal with yourself that if you couldn’t find work by the end of the day, you would sell your teeth. 

You were hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but with the way your stomach was rumbling and how everyone seemed to keep turning you away it was seeming more and more likely. You slumped over the bar, trying to think of a solution or another idea. 

You’d been propositioned by enough men to know you could make plenty of caps in the back alley behind the bar. But everytime you even remotely considered it, you felt yourself shrinking up. Your adrenaline would spike like you were readying yourself for a fight. 

You figured it would be a while before you could even safely consider that. “You seem a might rundown, hun.”

You didn’t bother lifting your head. You knew it was the man who’d been staring at you since you walked in. You could smell him even with your head down. You did your best to ignore him but he didn’t seem to take too kindly to that. 

“Hey,” he shoved at your shoulder and the impact was enough to force your head up. “Are you fucking deaf?”

”No,” you muttered through gritted teeth. Your hand hovered behind your back, itching for the gun tucked in your pants. “I’m not fucking interested.”

He lifted his hand and muttered, “Bitch,” a loud smack followed and echoed through the bar. Your head whipped to the side so hard you worried it might fly off. You clutched your cheek, spitting blood onto the wood of the counter. 

Your hand was already on your gun when you heard the sound of a hammer being pulled back. “Oh,” you turned, shocked to find Cooper standing behind the man. His gun was leveled with the man’s face and he shook his head in disappointment. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”

Men stood up from their tables and drew their guns, pointing all of them at Cooper. You’d seen the signs with the anti-ghoul symbols but you didn’t think they’d really follow through. Apparently it was the only law they obeyed around here. 

Cooper smiled as the men cocked their guns, eyes alight with a challenge. Then they landed on you and he frowned again. He raised his hands in surrender and tucked his gun back in his holster. He darted forward and grabbed you. He yanked you into his chest and you stumbled over your feet, scowling at him. He leaned next to your ear, gravelly voice sending chills down your back, “We’re leaving.”

He didn’t leave you much choice, dragging you despite the way you tried to fight against him. “The lady stays,” the man who’d hit you ordered. His friends took a step forward, blocking Cooper from the exit. He chuckled and glanced over at the man. 

“That was a mistake, friend.” Before you knew what was happening he was shoving you to the ground and shots were going off. Not willing to get shot again, you crawled on all fours towards the door. The sound of bullets whizzing over your head had you ducking every now and again, trying to protect yourself as much as you could. 

You could hear Cooper taunting them, and after every remark another body would hit the floor. You yelped and jumped back when one fell in front of you. A bullet embedded itself in the floor beside you, the wood splintering and exploding upward, just barely missing your face. 

You crawled over the dead bodies and threw yourself out the door, trying to outrun the sound of gunfire. But it was too late. The rest of Filly had heard the fight and those that were stupid enough to stay were starting to draw the fight out into the marketplace.

It was almost like a game, ducking under bullets and the spray of blood. Whatever Cooper was shooting them with was making them light up like the Fourth of July. By the time you’d managed to hide yourself behind a building, you looked like you’d been hosed down with blood. So much for keeping the clothes clean. 

Your head thudded against the side of the building and you clenched your eyes shut, breathing heavily through your open mouth. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest. But you didn’t feel like you were going to have a heart attack this time, maybe you were starting to adapt to all this. 

Feet scrambled across the sand and someone threw themselves down next to you. You tensed and opened your eyes, you didn’t relax much when you realized it was Cooper. He grinned at you and glanced over his shoulder, checking no one had seen him. 

The other’s didn’t seem to care that the man that had started the fight was no longer a part of it. You’re pretty sure they just needed an excuse to shoot each other. Cooper popped his gun open and reloaded the chamber. 

He glanced at your blood soaked form and scoffed, “You look like you’re doing well.”

You refused to look at him, “Yeah, no thanks to you.”

He didn’t take well to the way you were avoiding him. He darted forward, fingers digging into your chin and forcing you to look at him. “Sweetheart, who left who?”

You ripped your face out of his hand and glared at him. “Don’t try and pretend like you didn’t leave me a long time before I woke up. You wrote me off copper. You assumed the worst about me and you gave up.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something when a noise behind you interrupted him. He gave you a long look and got to his feet. “If you’re not here when I come back, I’ll shoot you. Understand me?”

You looked at him for a long moment, body tensed with rage before you nodded your head. “Understood.”

SERIES TAGLIST: @pixelatedprofilepic @o0mellowdramatic0o @bisasterbisexual @julianmarie @v3nix @coolrobloxkid28 @sunnexaltation @fiftyshadesofokay @ktdragonborn @ambivertdreamer @one-of-thewalkingdead @hellolettuce444 @ghcstvibess @qardasngan @foreverwing223 @leo4242564 @1-800shootmeplease @awkwardly-bucky @fallout-girl219 @the-faceless-bride @milk-ducts @dramaticpandabear @ladiadia @rockerchick05 @raviolisenpai @cupid-club @alastorsw1f3 @sarapaprikas-blog @sgt-barnesveins @weakling-grace

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[superblysubpar]

thank you so much for requesting anon, and thanks for your patience in waiting for this. Hope you like where I took it 😅 Is it a hushed conversation between kisses? Idk. Do they kiss? Kind of. Do they need to be quiet? yes?

1164 words

warnings: SMUT (finger sucking| PIV intercourse - creampie | technically you're camping & have to be quiet for this reason, but it's not really explicitly stated)

steve harrington x fem!reader | NSFW 18+

Despite the hot breath at your temple dotted with sweat, goosebumps rose on your skin. It seemed only Steve Harrington could pull them from you, the sort of primal reactions and sounds your body couldn’t deny.

He had a knack for it - a useless talent to some, an addiction if you asked him, a weapon he absolutely knew how to wield in your opinion.

Maybe it’s the way his hand curled on your hip. The way the rough pads of his fingertips soothed against heated skin. How they skated over elastic and snapped it against your body, accompanied by his mouth opening against the hinge of your jaw he’d traveled down to.

Not kissing you. Not licking or sucking. Just opening his mouth and breathing.

You hated that you whined.

Steve smiled against your neck, he couldn’t help it. And if he wasn’t painfully hard against your ass, he’d do this all night long.

He let his nose drag lower, then back up, indulging in the scent of you - mixed with the lake and bonfire, something sweet and smoky - addicting, like a freaking smore. Like he could have twenty of you and never be full or sick from such a sweet treat. He paused just behind your ear as his fingers slipped over the wet cotton in front of you and he felt your body go rigid against him, like you were holding your breath.

Everything was louder - your heartbeat in your ears, the crickets, the faint crackle of the dying fire now popping and hissing loudly as you waited. Your bare legs slipped against the cool sleeping bag, fingers digging into the flannel pillowcase as your teeth did the same to your bottom lip.

When Steve finally brushed a finger over cotton, giving the part of you throbbing and aching for attention, you gasped, hips wiggled quickly, searching for more, and he pulled away as soon as they did.

You groaned, loudly, and his hand was quick to jump over your mouth, which only had your eyes rolling back.

“Honey,” he spoke directly into your ear and his cheek pulled between his teeth when he saw how the press of his lips there had your eyelashes fluttering. “If you can’t be quiet…” He started to pull his body away, and your hands caught his wrist, keeping him locked around you.

Steve swallowed, watching from over your shoulder how your chest heaved, glistening with sweat. Your shirt and little sleep shorts guilty of this whole scenario he finds himself in, discarded and crumpled in the corner of the tent. He could have removed those from you an hour ago, his brain’s a little fuzzy - senses in overdrive wanting to get every sigh and whimper and twitch of your body he could get out.

“Please,” you begged in a hoarse whisper, turning your head as his hand fell from your lips, but not straying to far, fingers curled around your chin, thumb soothing over your jaw. Your nose drags over his before lips pressed a wet and desperate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be good, please.”

You watched him under heavy lids, taking in the pink flush of his cheeks, blown out pupils quickly replacing the honey in his eyes, so you took his hand and pressed two fingers to your lips, and waited.

Steve’s throat bobbed as your tongue licked the pad of one, running up the seam of the digits pressed together until you were taking both tips into your mouth and sucking.

He wasn’t the only one who had a weapon to wield, who had an addiction to getting those same primal reactions out of him.

Your cheeks hollowed, his eyelids grew heavy, fluttering as his cock twitched against you and a rumble of something in his chest pressed into your spine.

“Fuck,” he gasped, forehead knocking your temple as he rolled his hips against you.

He quickly pulled his fingers from where they were flattened over your tongue, wet fingers pushed down your black underwear and then his own. Steve’s length slipped between your legs, before his arm was wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight to him as his tip glided through your slick.

“So wet, baby,” he whined into your ear, fingers digging into your abdomen as you shivered when he pressed at your entrance. “Jus’ for me? Jus-just waiting for this all night?”

You nodded, warmth flooding your body at his words, the truth of them, and the way he pushed slowly inside of you.

Fingers gripped his forearm that only tightened around you, before his hand roamed down, over your thigh and back up to your hip, pulling you open so he could slip in deeper.

Steve made a sort of strangled noise against the back of your neck, pressed fully against your ass as your head fell back in a gasp, resting on his shoulder. He sat still, twitching inside of you until you were throbbing around him, fingers digging into the cool material beneath you and nodding, silently telling him to move.

It was all slow drags out and a forceful thrusts back in, each one picking up speed, making you both try to hold in your ragged and loud breaths. Steve pressed his nails into your thigh, nose and lips a ghost along your shoulder. Your walls sucking him in, yet coating him in slick in a way you hadn’t before had him quietly cursing, swearing and praising you in the same breath.

He scratched up your thigh when your hips rolled back against him, lips finding his neck and pressing kisses to any skin you could reach. His fingertips slipped over your clit, quietly swearing again at how wet you were and how you moaned when he made a second figure eight over the bundle of nerves.

“Steve,” you spoke into his jaw, fingers curled in the hair at the back of his neck, the other tugging at anything in front of you to hold on to as he pounded into you harder, but at the same consistent rhythm. As his tip hit that spot deep inside of you over and over again, the place only Steve Harrington had a knack for finding or being able to reach, white heat poured over you, heartbeat rushing in your ears as he took you higher.

He could feel you squeezing around him, feel the way your body shook against his, his own orgasm held off until you opened your mouth just below his ear.

You didn’t kiss him. You didn’t lick or suck or bite. You were just breathing.

A harder tug of his hair in your fingers, an arch of your back, eyelids fluttering, and a sort of hitched breath that warmed across his skin all made him fall over the edge he’d taken you both to. As goosebumps erupted down his arms, he spilled inside of you, both of you gripping the others body like it was your only way out alive.

He hated that he whined.

You smiled against his neck, you couldn’t help it.

[wittlesissyb4by]

“Open. Open! Ahhh!”

I find that nothing regresses a man-baby quite like putting a pacifier in their mouth. It tells them that their words mean nothing. Their pathetic little pleas don’t matter. Their silly little thoughts are moot. All while keeping them mute.

It forces them to internalize what’s going on. In addition to the sight, sound, smell, and feel of the diaper they’re about to wear, we take over their final sense. With every whimpering breath they take, the little rubber bulb rubs over their tongue. They can taste the latex, feel the shield press against their lips as the diaper closes over their hips. The soft, whimsical tunes playing in the background beneath your milky, matronly voice telling them how adorable and pathetic they look. Everything coming together to make them feel like a wimpy wittle baybee.

They can try to deny it all they want, but it’s hard to make a strong argument when there’s a big fat pacifier in their mouth! Binky your baybees, girls!!

[slut4thebroken]

The Recipe

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader

Summary | Emmett can’t keep his hands off you.

Warnings | Smut, praise, degradation, semi rough sex, breeding, cunnilingus, huuuge housewife kink, he’s very possessive but we love it

Words | 2k

Notes | Finally posting something 😭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

More of these two

moodboard @liliesdiary

“That smells amazing, doll, what is it?” He walked over and gave you a quick kiss before finally setting down his bag, then taking off his jacket and hat. 

“I’m trying to recreate that one pasta dish we had when we went to that fancy place a few months ago cause I keep craving it.” You smiled, keeping your focus on the stove. He did his best to stay out of your way in the small kitchen as he walked past you to get to the fridge and grab a beer. 

“Fuck- and this dress.” He groaned. You heard a can open, then he was walking closer and smacking your ass. You had to bite your lip to control your sounds, not wanting to get distracted and mess up the meal when you were finally almost done making it. “I didn’t forget a date, did I?” He wrapped his arm around your stomach and nuzzled into your neck, teasingly kissing over it. 

“No.” You chuckled. “I got lunch with Evelyn earlier.” You could practically feel the pout on his lips against your neck. 

“You went out wearing this without me? All of the guys were probably all over you.” He grumbled. 

“Emmett, this town is tiny. Everyone knows we’re married.” 

“As if that’d stop them.” He scoffed, even though it seemed like he also knew he was being a little irrational. 

“Go wash up. I should be done in a few minutes.” He groaned and tightened his grip around you, beginning to kiss your neck more enthusiastically. “Emmett..” You warned, making him huff but step away to go do what you said. 

Once the table was set, you filled up two plates and set them down, then grabbed your own drink as Emmett walked back in. Dinner was mostly uneventful. He told you about work, you told him about the gossip that Evelyn shared with you. He told you about his latest idea for how to improve the house, you told him he had to finish his current project before starting a new one. 

“How was it?” You asked, taking both plates to the sink. 

“Amazing, doll. Tasted exactly like the  restaurant’s.” 

You scoffed a laugh, hearing him chuckle quietly. “You’re a shit liar.” 

“It was still good either way.” 

“Do you want to do the dishes or should I?” You and Emmmett had a system; either one person cooked and the other cleaned, or one person cooked and cleaned and the other did the same the next day.

“I think I’ll make that steak you got, so you go ahead.” He said, knowing that you didn’t know how to clean a grill. “Plus I want to watch you in that dress.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. 

“I don’t know why I married such a pervert.” You scoffed teasingly as you put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher before starting to handwash the larger dishes. 

“I do.” He paused, walking right up behind you. “Cause you like it. You like that I can’t keep my hands off you.” He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you back so your ass was pressed firmly against the bulge in his jeans. 

“Emmett, let me finish the dishes, then we can move on to that.” You chuckled, still trying to wash everything. 

“I’m not stopping you.” He said simply. His hands dragged down the outsides of your thighs, then back up, pushing the fabric of your dress up to your waist. “Fuck…” He groaned, roughly groping the globes of your ass that were left bare because of your lace thong. You bit your lip and tried to stay focused, but it was getting increasingly more difficult. 

“Are you gonna be a good little wife and let me use you?” He smirked, quickly opening his jeans to remove his already half hard cock. 

“Emmett…” You said through a breath. You couldn’t tell if you were begging him to keep going or warning him to stop though.

“C’mon, baby. I deserve to fuck my girl after a long day of work.” You cursed under your breath and let your head drop down as you held onto the counter. “Do the dishes.” He chastised teasingly. He waited until you continued, then slid your panties to the side and lined up. 

Your knees buckled and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan when he finally pushed in. “Fuck,” You choked out. The stretch was a little uncomfortable, especially in this position, but you were mewling and pushing your hips back into his regardless. 

“Do the dishes.” He said firmly, placing a sharp smack on your ass. “I won’t tell you again.” You let out a low moan at the dominance in his voice. As soon as you continued washing, he was slowly dragging out and pushing back in. Your legs were already shaking and your breathing was already fast and uneven as you tried to cope with the overwhelming pleasure. 

“You make such a perfect little housewife.” He murmured, brushing your hair over one shoulder so he could start kissing the side of your neck. He left marks up and down, his grip tightening on your hips almost painfully. “Cook and clean for me… take my cock whenever I want… You'll even give me some kids when I ask, won’t you?” You sobbed out a moan and let your head fall back on his shoulder. He slapped the side of your thigh, making you whimper loudly at the sting. “Don’t make me tell you again.” He growled. 

With a whine, you lifted your head again and resumed washing. Honestly you were doing a shit job and you’d probably have to do it again once he was done with you. 

“So obedient.” He cooed, gently nipping at your neck. You knew he was just saying all of this for the sake of the scene— Emmett can be old fashioned, but he’s not that old fashioned. Regardless, the longer his cock stayed buried inside you, the more you didn’t mind being his housewife and cock sleeve. 

You almost dropped the pot into the sink when he suddenly sped up. But finally, you finished rinsing the last of the dishes and set it on the towel you laid out earlier. 

“Good girl.” Pulling you to a clear space on the counter, he pushed you down with a hand on the back of your neck and started wildly bucking into you. You almost screamed from the intensity, already feeling your legs turning to jelly, making it harder to hold yourself up. 

Desperately needing to come, you tried to push a hand down to rub your clit, but he twisted your arm behind your back and pinned it there. “If you want to touch my property, you fucking ask.” He growled, his voice only making you needier. 

“Please let me come, Emmett.” You whimpered. He lifted his hand from your neck and brought it down hard on your ass, making you cry out. Without giving any other response, he grabbed your hip as his thrusts grew even more frantic. You could tell he was getting close, especially with the way his sounds started getting louder, and you almost cried at the thought of not getting to come. But… the thought of being nothing more than a submissive housewife and a hole for your husband to use was hot enough that you almost didn’t care. 

You mewled and squirmed a little, making his grip on your body tighten even more. “Please.” You gasped out. His balls were just barely smacking your clit with each thrust, not giving you nearly enough stimulation. Both hands were on your hips now as he bucked into you at a brutal pace, chasing his orgasm. The slapping of skin and both of your moans echoed throughout the kitchen and if you were less horny, you probably would’ve been embarrassed by the faint squelching sound you could hear as your arousal continued to soak his cock. 

His hips stuttered and you whined when he suddenly slammed into you, pushing you into the counter almost painfully as he fell over the edge. Your legs were shaking with each pump of his hips as he lazily fucked his load deep inside your eager pussy. He was grunting and panting against your neck, holding your hips in a bruising grip until he rode out his orgasm completely. 

“Good girl.” He groaned breathily, making you whine again. Only after he caught his breath did he lean up and slowly drag his hips back, making the trembling of your legs even worse. He kicked your feet apart and grabbed your ass to pull you open so he could watch his come trickle out of your puffy folds. 

“Emmett.” You whimpered, but all he did was shush you quietly. Your hips flinched when he dragged his thumb through your slit and he cursed under his breath at the sight of you leaking his come. 

“Oh, look at that.” He cooed, making you blush. “This is how you should’ve gone out today; wearing this slutty little dress with my come dripping down your thighs to remind you who you belong to.” He gruffed. 

“Emmett, please.” You were on the verge of a tantrum now. 

“Shh… It’s okay.” He murmured quietly, standing back up. He pulled you up by your hair and spun you around, then captured your lips in a bruising kiss. “Is my good girl gonna let me have my dessert now?” You nodded dumbly, not really processing his words because you just hoped that agreeing to whatever he said would get him to finally give you some much needed relief. He smirked in amusement, then effortlessly lifted you up so your legs were around his hips, letting him carry you over to the table and gently set you down on it. 

Kneeling between your legs, he wasted no time diving in and sucking on your clit, making you cry out. Your hands settled in his hair and he alternated between lapping up your shared arousal and giving attention to your clit. When he draped your legs over his shoulders and then pulled you closer, you moaned loudly and laid down on the table, your back arching up from the pleasure. Emmett let out a low, gravelly moan against you, making you mewl and tug on his hair even harder. 

“Fuck— Please don’t stop..” You choked out. He devoured you like a man starved, quickly bringing you back to the edge with his enthusiasm. The loud slurping sounds that you could hear through your moans, had you blushing and whining in embarrassment. 

Your legs were trembling on either side of his head, the coil in your stomach was tightening, your moans were getting louder… and Emmett just held your hips down, continuing on, not deterred by any of your reactions. 

“Please let me come.” You whimpered, moaning loudly when he sucked on your clit repeatedly. His lack of a response only made you even more frustrated. Emmett was a little unpredictable about letting you come. Sometimes he didn’t care, but sometimes he could be really controlling over your orgasm, only letting you come after he gave you permission. Ever since the first time you came without permission, you’ve always been hesitant, not wanting to risk being punished. “Emmett, please!”  

He chuckled against you, making your hips jerk against his mouth. “Come.” He mumbled, not bothering to pause or pull away so he could talk. When you finally got his permission, you let the pleasure wash over you, no longer trying to suppress it. The knot of arousal in your stomach snapped suddenly and you sobbed out a moan as your back arched off the table. You had a death grip on Emmett’s hair and your hips were practically grinding on his face, but he worked you through it, not stopping until you were twitching and whining from overstimulation. 

“Good girl.” He groaned, placing one last kiss on your clit. “C’mere, doll.” He helped pull you up into a seated position, then kissed you again, much softer this time. You moaned at the taste of yourself still on his tongue. “Fuck, I love you.” He muttered into the kiss, making you blush a little. “But the next time you go out wearing this dress without my come dripping down your thighs, you won’t be coming for a week.” 

Guys pls give me ideas for a different title lol

[afortoru]

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑨𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: how you and satoru find your way back to each other in every universe.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Genre: angst, yandere, fluff, hurt-comfort

Warnings: yandere behaviour, pining, use of y/n, minor characters death, slight pregnancy mentioned. (Tell me if there's more!)

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: sighs... another Satoru fic because this man is in my head all the time. Big smooches to everyone who's reading it <3

“Are we really together in every universe?” you looked up at him before asking such an innocent question.

He chuckled, grazing his fingers oh so gently on your scalp as you two laid on your shared bed and your head resting over his chest.

“Of course sweetcheeks. We are.”

“And how could you be so sure? What if I end up with someone else?” you asked, trying to look at his face as his blue orbs shine down at you and a grin grazing on his glossy lips.

He let out a hummed sound as if thinking about the solution to this before looking at you.

“How about you tell me, what do you want me to do? Should I let you go or take you against your will?”

Now that he has put a question on your question, you look down at the white blanket covering you both, thinking about an answer.

“It probably sounds weird but maybe you can give a little chase up to me in another universe too you know.” Satoru can totally frame out what you actually wanted. You wanted to end up with him any way possible.

“What if I'll like someone else?” Now he's on with his teasing again.

A visible pout on your face as you glared up at him and pinched his cheeks careful enough not to hurt him.

“Then find a way to come back to me you idiot. Going out with someone else and all as if it won't hurt me.” You huffed looking down.

It was simply an enjoyable back and forth between you and him showing how much you two always want to stick together. You are happy to have him by your side in this life but what about others….are you really together? Happily?

You wake up in a dark basement chained, a man enters the room, his tall figure frightening you.

"Good morning love, are you feeling alright?"

His voice was sweet and caring as if it wasn't for the situation you are in right now then he's probably your lover, but he actually is your lover.

Gojo Satoru, your senior in college and the college heartthrob. Gosh…all the girls were crazy after him. Why? Because he's so handsome, so rich, he's got such a great physic.

He's got everything but then why his heart's fluttering at your voice.

“Uh, where is room number 32 of the biology department?” You asked the group of guys you assumed as your seniors. They all stared down at you making you feel nervous.

I shouldn't have asked them…idiot Y/n they are your seniors. Now get ready to be bullied.

You looked at them before chuckling awkwardly and backing away.

“It's alright I'll uh…I'll just go check by myself.”

“Hey wait!” You turned around to face the voice thinking you're gone now but only to get more enticed. He was smiling at you as his white locks fell on his face.

Shoving the thoughts away you wait for him to tease you but he simply told you the way to your department and also asked you your name.

Satoru watched your every action from the way you casually asked a group of seniors for directions to awkwardly backing away and then your face when he called you back telling you the way.

All he could get was your name and your kind thank you and gosh he wanted more.

So now here he was with you in one of his new club house, trapped in his basement.

You try to say something but the piece of clothing inserted in your mouth only allows you to make a mumbling sound.

Satoru chuckled looking at your struggle so he decided to take it off your mouth.

“Promise me you won't scream or shout, angel.”

You simply nodded wanting to breathe properly. Satoru sighed in delight at your obedience. “There you go, here drink it.” You looked at the glass of water he offered you but you weren't sure to accept it.

“What? If you're thinking I'll poison it or something then..” he sharp gaze met your eyes before he could continue.

“Then you should know I'll kill myself first if something happens to you.”

His words ran a chill down your spine as you decided following him would be the best choice right now.

“What a good girl.” He smiled as you obediently drank the water.

“Why? Why have you brought me here?” Satoru chuckled at your question. You couldn't be that oblivious.

“Why do you think angel?” He bent down to face you as you were still chained on the chair.

You looked down at the ground thinking about the possibilities of why he kidnapped you and what he actually wanted.

For money…? Can't be. Then…for..?

Your eyes widened at the realization. How could you be that dumb and trust his kindness all this time. Which guy stays back at the library after college just for you to complete your notes? Which guy picks your calls at 3 in the morning when you're having an anxiety attack? Which guy would glare at his own friends when they try to talk you down so that the next day they'll be apologizing to you on their knees?

You were really a fool to think he just cares about you. NO No No No. If anything all this makes out to be is that he….loves you?

“You…like me?” You asked, cringing at yourself.

Satoru smirked, his eyes crinkled with slight joy as if you were right, indeed you were.

What a good girl you are.

But the smile faded when he saw your fearful expression. Why are you scared of him, why can't you see all he did for you, he fought with everyone, be it friends or family.

His face softened looking at you as he untied you. You were stunned. He did untie you but he should know that you'll try to run away or scream for help but he didn't care.

Satoru can't see you like that, something in him tells him that he can't have you scared or hurt at any given moment let alone he's the reason. It was soul crushing to him to not be able to see the love in your eyes as the one he has for you.

Every waking moment he has thought about making you his, worshiping you, wanting you but he's still not deserving of your love. Why don't you reciprocate his feelings?

Satoru leaned closer to sensing your fear as he closed his eyes and tears fell on his cheeks.

Your eyes widened, gazing at the sight before you in utter disbelief. The person who kidnapped you is crying. Looking at him you realized what could be the reason.

“I'm sorry angel. I did everything I could. Please please don't do this to me. Am I not good enough? Why can't you see how much I love you? Why…why don't you love me back?” Satoru sobbed in front of you.

You were terrified of the person in front of you, your body frozen and heart rate accelerating. However, there was something else, something familiar. You wanted to run away, but you wanted to stay. Everything inside you was telling you to fight this connection, but you couldn't. You wanted to embrace it.

Satoru felt a gentle hand on his left cheek as he opened his eyes. He was rather amazed to see it was you.

Your eyes were filled with something and it was definitely not pity. Satoru sees it as a sign of progress as he chuckles.

Bump…

Your heart sped up, pounding in their chest. It was like your entire body was filled with electricity, like they were being electrified. This feeling was overwhelming, like you couldn't focus on anything else but the beat of their heart. It was intense and almost impossible to ignore.

His smile caused by you made your heart race as your hands instinctively cares his cheeks. It's like they want him to give him the comfort he needs from you.

“You're definitely an angel” he smiles leaning forward as he leans to your touch and his warm breath falls on your lips. You closed your eyes knowing he's about to kiss you but no…he didn't kiss your lips instead your cheeks.

“We'll take it slow, I promise. I'll wait for you as you need to love me back, sweetcheeks.” That nickname…why does it sound familiar?

You have watched Satoru grow up as you were always by his side as his royal guard. From a stubborn kid to a fine grown man who's determined to be the next emperor. Your relationship with him also developed as you two grew older.

You saw him for the first time when he was just a seven years old kid and you were ten, appointed by his father for your abilities that were passed by your father in your genes.

At first Satoru wasn't easy to talk to. He was confused on why his father need to appoint a girl to protect him but as time flew things became different between you two.

At the time of your puberty you two were close friends. He'll tell you everything and you'd do the same since you two only had one another.

As you two grew up, you worked harder day and night to become strong and to protect your bestfriend but there's something in your heart that wanted more than just being friends with him.

You thought it was just a childish crush but as the time passes and the more you stay by his side you can't help but fall for him.

You saw Satoru pissing off the higher ups, the generals and ministers were teased by him from time to time. He was so annoying and cocky at times to others. But you'll be just standing there smiling and chuckling at his antics.

All of this came crashing down when he locked eyes with her. The second princess of the neighboring empire. You can tell from the way his eyes follow her that he was enormoused by her. At first you tried to shrug off the feeling but as their love progressed you couldn't help the burning sensation in your heart.

He'll tell you about her, about how much he loves her. Gosh you wanted him to strangle you to death instead all you did was just nod and smile.

He looks so happy…as long as he's smiling…

That's what you thought but the pain never subsided. After all, who even are you? Just a royal guard. You're not even shy or feminine like the princess Satoru liked.

Both the empires were happy when their wedding was announced. Satoru and the princess walk hand in hand while you're walking behind them, always looking for any enemies or danger nearby.

“I don't know but, something doesn't feel complete.” You looked up at him a bit confused by his words.

“Satoru, you're going to marry the girl you fell in love with and then become the next king. What else do you need?”

“Y/n, you know it's not that. I…I can't seem to understand but something feels off.” He retorted, placing his hand over his heart.

“Satoru, you're just nervous. Trust in yourself and you'll be fine.” you fixed his broch on his wedding suit that he was wearing.

“Now come out soon. I'll go first.” You left him thinking maybe he needs to be alone for a while.

“I wish I could trust myself Y/n…” he mumbled to himself before walking out.

Years after their marriage Satoru was happy with his wife being pregnant now. Everything was so beautiful in his world. He's got everything he could ever want.

But in this universe there's one rule that follows, you can't have what's not yours. Be it how bad you need it but if it's not yours then one day it'll be taken away from you.

Just like that his wife passes away with his child during childbirth. When Satoru was informed you were there beside him and you couldn't bring yourself to comfort him knowing there's no use.

Satoru was confused, sad, angry and more importantly pissed on why this has to happen to him? He was so given such a good life and had everything just for it to go all in vain?

You saw him distancing himself from everyone and you let him as he appointed you as an incharge for the time being. You knew he needed time. Everyone was grieving but you felt the urge to go talk to him after all he's your friend, right?

You know if he keeps going like that he'll detroit himself because Gojo Satoru grieves differently. He's not the one to be able to move on soon.

You walked into his chambers, everything was a mess in his room.

“Satoru…” calling out his name as you see him standing by the window.

You walked in front of him but he couldn't look up at you too lost in his own mind. You took him by the hand dragging him on the bed as you made him look at him.

“Gojo Satoru! Talk to me, say something. You're the king of this empire and if you keep doing this to yourself then…” you stopped as he looked at you.

“I don't want this.” Your eyes widened. Does he mean he doesn't want to be the king anymore? He shook him by his shoulders wanting to bring him back to his senses.

“Satoru please, I can't do this without you. I can't see you like this, you're my best friend. Please at least have mercy on me.” You sobbed as your hands weakly came down from his shoulders.

Few minutes later you felt a head fall on your shoulder wanting to be comforted as a light sobbing sound echoed in the room.

“Y/n, please help me. I…I don't know what I should do. All this time I thought my life was completed and I had everything but…it's all gone…” he continued to sob while you did everything to comfort him.

Soon he was back to work and started attending courts. You couldn't help but smile when you see him settling back to normal life but you knew he would never get over the loss.

“Y/n, thanks for…I guess everything you have been doing for me.” Satoru smiled as you two sat outside on a bench in the royal garden.

“Oh please Satoru, I told you not to say thankyou. I know-”

“Shh Y/n. I know what you want to say but please listen to me once. I'm really glad to have you by my side. I'm sorry I have never realized how much I needed you Y/n. So…please stay by my side forever and I look forward to living this life with you…sweetcheeks.” Your eyes widened with utter surprise at his words. He meant it all as just a friendly commotion, right? And where's that nickname came from?

You have already drifted off to sleep on his chest. Satoru keeps caressing your hair and he couldn't help but chuckle at your cute face right now. So peaceful and calm, he could just look at you all day and admire you.

“Even if I fell for someone else in another life, I promise my heart would always find its way back to you sweetcheeks.”

A/n pt.2: yes sweetcheeks is very personal to me as it's Satoru's favourite nickname for me since he gobbles on my cheeks alot 😭💕 thanks for reading!

Dividers by @rookthornesartistry @dollywons

Pics are not mine

[bloatedandalone04]

Little Black Dress

➪the one where you and the pogues are invited to a fancy party at the cameron’s, and jj can’t seem to keep his hands (and lips) off you.

Warnings: smut, fluff, kook reader, pda, semipublic smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, established relationship, altered plot, swearing, dom jj

Word Count: 3.7k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“No,” was the first word that came out of JJ’s mouth as soon as you stepped out of your bedroom wearing the newest article of clothing that was added to your wardrobe. It was a simple but cute black dress you thought would look nice on you at the dinner party the Cameron’s were throwing at their house. “Absolutely not.”

Apparently JJ thought differently. “What?” You frowned, looking down at the dress self-consciously. “I thought it looked nice. Cute, you know?”

“Cute?” JJ asked in disbelief, uncrossing his arms as he stood up straight from his slouched position against the wall. “No, you don’t look cute, Y/n. You look fucking hot. Go change.”

A startled laugh escapes you as you look back up at him. “Wait, you think I look hot, yet you want me to go change?”

JJ nodded, and it looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes locked on yours instead of letting them trail up and down your body. “Yes,” he answered as it was the easiest question he’d ever been asked. “It’s bad enough that this is the best I could find, I don’t need you showing me up even more than you already do.”

He gestures to his simple white button up and dress pants he wore when he was a waiter for about three hours before he got fired. You laughed as you looked him up and down. “I think you look hot, too,” you shrug. “I don’t want you to go change though.”

“Baby,” he nearly whined as he reached for your hips. “Please go change into something that won’t give me a boner all throughout fucking dinner. John B will never let me live it down.”

You laugh again and brace your hands on his shoulders as you stand in between his legs. “You can make it through one dinner Jay,”

JJ groaned and leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder, his hands trailing further down your body. “One dinner might as well be one hundred,” he hummed, his hands skimming past your lower back. 

“JJ,” you warn and he lifts his head to give you an innocent look. “Don’t start, alright? You’ll just make things harder.”

It was a poor choice of words, and you knew that the second you saw the smirk form on his lips. “I know one thing that’s already hard,”

You scoff and push him away with a laugh. “That’s your own fault,” you shrug again and begin walking away from him. 

“My fault?” He muttered as he followed after you. “You come out wearing the hottest dress I’ve ever seen and it’s my fault for reacting to it?” 

“Yes,” you answer, stepping outside into the cool summer air. It was deathly hot earlier, but thankfully it had cooled down pretty significantly now that it was nearing the evening. “You just had to go ahead and touch me when you knew we need to leave soon.”

“I won’t apologize for that,” he shrugged just as John B pulled up in The Twinkie. 

“You’ll just have to deal with it,” you mumble as Pope opens the back door for you. 

JJ muttered something under his breath, then he was getting into the van as well and sitting extremely close to you. “Everything okay back there?” Kie asked when she turned around from her place in the passenger seat and saw just how squished you were between Pope and JJ. 

“Yeah, Kie,” your boyfriend replied,  reaching around you to push on Pope’s shoulder. He took the hint and moved to sit across from you instead, and you glared at JJ. 

“That was rude,” you whisper, gently nudging his side with your elbow. “He was keeping me company.”

JJ leaned in close so his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. “I’m all the company you need,” he murmured and you froze for a second and had to hold back a surprised moan. “And you look fucking hot in this dress. I can’t wait to take it off you at the party.”

You actually did whimper as you turned to gaze up at him with wide eyes, and he just smirked at you as Kie let out a laugh of disbelief. “Guys, are we seriously going to the fucking Cameron’s for a dinner party?” 

John B looked over at her as he turned left down the street that leads to the fancier part of town. “Hey, Sarah really wants us to come. I promised her we would be there,” he defended his girlfriend. “And you can’t lie and tell me that you haven’t been actually getting along with her.”

“Sarah’s fine,” Kie mumbled. “The rest aren’t.”

“Give them a chance, Kie,” Pope said from his place behind her. “We gave Y/n a chance, and now she’s one of us. Richer than all of us combined, but still one of us.”

JJ lifted his head from where it was against your neck and glared at his friend. “Shut up, Pope,” he grunted, pulling you tighter against his side. “Y/n was never like that. She never gave us a reason to not like her.”

You smile at him and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, one that had him fighting off a grin as he turned to his left and reached around the driver’s seat to grab John B’s shoulder. 

“Unlike this one, who is dating the girl who cost him his job with her dad,” he added and John B flipped him off through the rearview mirror. 

“Sarah’s not like that, either,” 

“Whatever you say,” JJ laughed, leaning back and looking down at you with poorly hidden lust in his eyes. 

You had to keep your eyes off him for the rest of the ride, otherwise you were sure you would end up doing something indecent to him in front of your friends. 

When you arrived at Sarah’s house, she ran out and greeted you all before kissing John B and tugging him inside. Pope scoffed as he watched the two disappear inside the massive house, “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll just find our own way around your giant fucking mansion,” 

Kie laughed and shoved him a bit as the two of them walked through the double doors, leaving you and JJ outside. He turned to you with a pleading look, his hand reaching for yours. “We can still go back,” he tempted you by wiggling his brows. “I can think of many things that are a lot more fun than sitting down with a bunch of Kooks for three hours.” 

You roll your eyes and take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “Come on, party boy,” you laughed as you pulled him with you. “You can make it through a few hours.”

JJ groaned but followed after you. “Alright, but I’m telling you right now, I won’t be able to take my hands off you when we’re at the table,” 

You blushed and tried pulling your hand out of his, but he just pulled you closer then wrapped his arm around your waist. Pope, who was standing in the entryway of the dining room must’ve heard JJ’s dirty promise, as he snorted before saying, “Might not be able to live up to that, JJ,”

JJ furrowed his brows then looked over Pope’s shoulder. “No way,” 

John B was sitting across the table from Sarah, Rafe, who looked hilariously miserable, was sitting across from Wheezie, and Ward was sitting across from Rose.  “Oh,” you trailed off, watching as John B and Sarah practically eye fucked each other. “Guys sit across from the girls..?” You asked, earning a tight nod from Rose before she downed whatever was in her glass. She clearly didn’t want to be here either, and it was her own house. 

“Y/n,” Ward greeted with a charming smile that faded when he looked to your left and at your boyfriend. “JJ…welcome. Come on in, have a seat.”

JJ turned to you with a look of warning in his eyes. “Let’s go,” he mumbled. “I’m serious.”

You bit back a laugh and quickly escaped his hold in order to sit next to Kie. Pope sighed before sitting across from her, leaving JJ to sit in between him and Rafe. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, knowing damn well that he would only ever do something like this for you and you only. With a barely hidden eye roll, he sits next to Rafe and Pope, refusing to acknowledge the Kook next to him as he looks at you from across the table. “This is fucked.” He mouthed to you just as Ward stood up. 

You held back a laugh as you broke eye contact in order to pay attention to the man you were sure Sarah begged to let her organize this whole thing. “I just want to thank you all for coming. I know things have been tense lately, but I think this is a great opportunity for us all to get to know each other. It’s always nice to know who my little girl is hanging around with these days,” he nodded at Sarah who just smiled at him. “With that being said, enjoy the food, everyone.” 

With the ice being broken, you watched as almost everyone began picking at the food on their plates. Everyone except JJ, who just braced his elbows on the table and stared at you. You nodded towards his plate, but he shook his head. “This is torture,” he mouthed and you softly glared at him. 

“Eat,” you mouthed back, your eyes flickering between his and his plate. “What is your issue?”

“I can’t touch you,” he mouthed a little too audibly, earning a glare from Rafe that JJ promptly ignored. 

You gave him a pointed look, and when he still made no move to pick up his fork, you gently kicked his leg under the table. He jumped slightly, his eyes widening as if he couldn’t believe you actually just did that, then he huffed defeatedly and grabbed his fork. 

You smile then pucker your lips at him, laughing at the way he rolled his eyes but let a small grin form on his face. 

Soon enough everyone was having their own little conversations, and it was going surprisingly okay, but despite your best efforts, you were getting bored. You could tell that JJ was, too, as he grabbed his glass and spun the liquid around instead of actually drinking it. 

When Ward announced that he was going to go get dessert, an idea formed in your head and you smirked. You lean back in your chair and kick your heels off from under the table, then you extend your leg out until your foot grazes JJ’s knee. Your smirk grew when he jumped again, nearly spilling his drink as he registered that it was you who was touching him. 

He met your eyes with a look of warning, but you ignored it. Just as Ward came back with two trays of cake and pie, you slid your foot higher until it was trailing along JJ’s thigh, and his knees hit the underside of the table as he reached under and grabbed hold of your ankle. “Y/n,” he muttered, ignoring the many sets of eyes on him at the loud noise. “Come with me.”

Your smirk faded as he gently pushed your leg away from him then stood up, and you had to hold back a moan at the dangerous look in his eyes. “Why?” You managed to ask as Ward set the trays down onto the table. 

“Now,” was the answer you were given, then JJ looked over at Ward. “You don’t mind if we’re excused for a few minutes, do you?”

He really wasn’t asking, and Ward knew that as he nodded and sat back down. “Not at all, take your time,” he was honestly probably happy to have you and JJ leave, even if just for a little while. 

JJ turned back to you then made a beeline for the doorway, and you were left to quickly stand up and follow after him on shaky legs. “Sorry, we…we forgot..something,” you make up the worst excuse of your life before fleeing the room in search of your riled up boyfriend. 

You hadn’t even made it halfway down the hallway before a hand wrapped around your wrist and you were pulled towards JJ’s chest. “You got some nerve, you know that?” He asked and before you could say a word, he pressed his lips to yours and effectively shut you up. You whined against his mouth when he deepened the kiss, then he pulled away and left you craving more. JJ hummed as he lifted his hand and tugged at your bottom lip. “What do you say, baby? Why don’t we explore this house a bit?” 

Nodding and in a daze, he takes your hand in his and pulls you along with him as he heads towards the staircase. He let out a low whistle as you and he ascended the stairs, and you were breathless, too, but for a different reason. 

“Look at this fucking place,” he grunted, glancing at you as you and he reached the second floor. “Look at all these empty rooms.”

You swallow hard as he grabs your hips and pushes you against a wall. “JJ,” you whisper and he smirks before leaning down and kissing you. Your arms wrap around his neck as you moan into the kiss, just as needy as he is even though you were better at hiding it. “Are we really doing this?”

JJ pulled away and took your hand again. “Oh yeah, we’re doing this,” he answered and you gave him a wide eyed look that he scoffed at. “Don’t give me that look, you’re the one who decided to tease me under the table.”

Your eyes widened as he opened a random door and pulled you in with him. “My heels, Jay,” you gasp. “They’re still down there. Oh, my God, that makes it so obvious as to what we’re doing.”

JJ raised a brow. “Baby, I think it was obvious from the second we left that table,” he laughed then turned to observe the room he chose. “Jesus, even the bathrooms are massive.”

You huff out a quiet laugh and start to walk around him to observe the room yourself, but you don’t get very far before JJ wraps his arms around you and pulls you back to him. You stumble a bit but then are lifted up and set on the marble countertop next to the sink. “You’re impatient,” you tease, running your hands along his shoulders. 

“Can you blame me?” He asked, leaning in and kissing your neck. “You look so hot, baby.” 

You whimper at his words, tugging on his shirt. “JJ,”

“I know,” he groaned, lifting you up effortlessly and sliding your panties down your legs. “Baby, I love you, but if you ever make me go to another dinner party with a bunch of fucking Kook’s, I might never speak to you again.”

His threat was empty and it had you laughing before you cut yourself off with a moan as he sunk to his knees and wrapped his lips around your clit. His hands pushed your sinful dress up until it pooled around your waist, and you reached out to grab hold of his hair. “Oh, fuck,” you bite your lip and looked cautiously at the closed door. 

You’d been secretly turned on since the second you saw JJ dressed in his take on a formal outfit, and that much was clear as his tongue poked out to run along your already soaked slit. JJ hummed at the feeling of your wetness coating his taste buds, “I knew you needed this just as much as I did,”

Your face heats up as you place your other hand flat on the counter behind you. “You dressed yourself, you know how good you look, Jay,” 

He laughed, pulling away as he tugged your body closer to the edge of the counter. JJ pressed his cheek against your knee as he stared up at you, sliding one of his hands up your thigh until his fingers were ghosting over your core. “You want me to get you off on my tongue, baby? Or do you want the real thing?”

You bite your lip as his index and middle fingers slip into you. “I want,” you trial off, wanting him to make you come more than once during this little sneak off from the party, but you also didn’t want to ditch them for too long. You whine as you pull him so he is standing up, and you tug him towards you while reaching down to grope him through his pants. “I want this.”

JJ smirked, kissing you deeply as he pushed your dress down and palmed your breasts in his much bigger hands. You moan into the kiss as you unzip his dress pants and push them and his boxers down just enough to free his hard cock. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as you guided his tip up and down your soaked folds, and you shared a groan at the feeling. 

“Please,” you begged, tugging at the buttons on his shirt until the top of his chest was exposed. “Please, Jay.” You knew how much he loved when you begged him, and it had the reaction you knew it would, which was a quick thrust of his hips until he was buried deep within you. 

JJ groaned loudly, knowing damn well how massive this house was and that there was no way anyone would be able to hear you. “Fuck,” he grunted, grabbing your hip with one hand while his other squeezes at your chest. His thumb and index finger pinch and tug at your nipple until it’s impossibly tight, then he leans down and does the same thing to the other, but this time with his lips and tongue. 

You jolt and kick the lower cabinet by accident, but neither of you care about the loud noise you just made as you let the lust take over. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist as he begins to fuck into you. “Fuck.”

JJ sucked in a breath through his teeth as your walls tightly gripped him, inviting him in deeper and deeper with every thrust of his hips. You felt so good, and he knew that, which is why he couldn’t wait until he got you back to your house after the party to do this. He probably would’ve come in his pants if he had to wait that long. 

With that being said, there is no way he is lasting long now. Not with the way you clung onto him as he fucked you, and the way your saliva coated chest brushed against his. 

You were already a moaning mess as he trailed his hand down and began rubbing circles onto your clit, and the new pressure only made you louder. JJ would proudly admit if you asked him that he loved the way you sounded for him, and loved how you weren’t afraid to get vocal at times like this. 

“Jesus, Jay,” you whimpered, biting down on your puffy lip that was swollen from his harsh kisses. You gripped the edge of the counter tightly with one hand, the other tangling in his blond hair as he fucked you hard and fast. Usually he liked to take his time with you and really worship your body for as long as he could, but this had to be quicker than normal for obvious reasons. 

“I know,” he grunted, pinching and pulling at your clit as he worked you open. He watched as he became more and more coated in your arousal with each thrust, and his jaw locked when you tilted your head back and pressed your chest against his. You looked so fucked out and hot, he was still in shock that he somehow managed to get you to agree to be his. “I know.”

“Fuck,” you nearly, cried, pressing your heels against his lower back and letting the sides of your thighs rest on the cool marble of the counter. It gave him the best view of your dripping core and it took a lot out of JJ to not come right then and there. 

“Fuck, Y/n,” he rasped, fucking into you even harder than before, determined to make you come first. “Tell me you’re close, baby.”

You whimper, lifting your head and kissing him deeply. “I’m close, Jay,”

“Thank fuck,” he huffed, earning a soft laugh from you as you tensed up. “Come for me, baby. Come on me.”

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned loudly, bracing yourself on shaky arms as you coated his cock in your release. “Fuck…fuck.”

The added wetness and the way you were still clenching around him was all JJ needed as he came deep within your throbbing and pulsing walls, a deep grunt leaving the back of his throat. “God, Y/n,” he breathed out as he stilled inside you, watching with squinted eyes as you push yourself up and grin at him. “The things you do to me.”

You laugh as he leans down to kiss the tops of your breasts before pulling your dress back up. “I don’t want to go back downstairs now,” you blushed under his intense gaze, taking it upon yourself to button his shirt back up. “That was too good.”

It was always good with him, and he knew that, which is why he strived to give it to you better each time. “We could always just sneak out a window, steal The Twinkie and go back to your place,” he suggested as he slowly pulled out of you. 

You watched with parted lips as he grabbed your panties and shoved them into his pocket, then he zipped his pants up with a smirk. “But that pie Ward brought out looked really good,” you pouted and JJ laughed, walking back over to you and tugging at your lip. 

“Fine, we’ll stay for pie,” he stated, lifting you off the counter. He leaned down to press a final kiss to your mouth, smiling at you when he pulled away and took your hand in his. “Then I’m taking you home.”

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are having a good day. May I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein he miscalculates how long his business trip would be and he comes home to emotionally wrecked and hungry darling ( He locked them in the closest as a punishment prior) which leads to hurt comfort between the two

Nanami opened the front door and kicked off his shoes, sighing in disappointment at his timing and at how late at night he got back at. Traffic was terrible, his shoes weren't as comfortable as they were this morning, and he missed you terribly. He ran his fingers through his hair that no longer mattered now that he was indoors and put his suitcase out of sight.

He was going to call out that he was home, but reminded himself that he still had you cooped up in that shitty basement. He walked through the house and into the kitchen to finally get you a glass of water. He was only supposed to be on that business trip for around two days and be back home by the time the third day ended. The basement was very spacious, but even he had his limits in there. Which is why it was a great punishment, in his mind. He had enough of your mouth and you attempted to escape after almost sending him over the edge all in one day. But he still worried for you. There were no lights or any sense of comfort in there. At this point, he just wants you in his arms again. The thought makes his heart race in excitement. You must feel so lonely, feel so anxious, so cold, and

You freeze when you turn and see Nanami standing a few feet away from you, watching you shove your fifth slice of bread into your mouth. The two of you mirrored the same look of horror as you acknowledged one another. Nanami's face contorts into one of realization while yours continues to drop. Your stomach twists in fear at the sight of your captor finding you outside of your confinement and suddenly you feel nauseous and no longer desire any kind of elements of nutrition.

Pieces of food that weren't swallowed fall out of your mouth in fear and surprise and you scatter off to the nearest room with a lock and you slam it shut, fiddling with the lock and somehow manage to turn it with terribly shaky hands. It's hard to breath and you hyperventilate as you scoot into a corner, keeping yourself huddled.

Kento was still stuck in place, his mouth open in complete shock. You had ransacked the entire kitchen. He lets his eyes scan over everything on the ground. Almost nothing in the cabinets or fridge was left untouched, so many things left open and touched by his poor, poor girl's fingers. Juice, crackers, the bread you tore into, butter, cereal, refrigerated rice, half-eaten boxes of vegetables and fruits, uncooked noodles......it didn't end there.

The more his eyes found laying around, the heavier his heart got. This was all his fault. He didn't mean to......do this to you. Not at all. His eyes flutter shut as he rubs them, a sigh leaving his mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen. He inhaled sharply to gather more courage to step past the obvious signs of severe neglect he had done to you.

He could hear your fast-paced breathing from outside of the guest-bedroom and shakes his head in shame. He was so fucking ashamed of being so irresponsible with taking care of you. He was supposed to be your lover, your caretaker, the one you should be able to trust. But it seems like he can't even do any of those things right. He was wrong. "I'm sorry." His throat felt like it was constricting his vocals as he chokes out the apology. No kind of words or affirmations could change what he did to you and he wanted to be able to help you see that.

His face was so close to the door, as if he could speak through it into your heart. The last thing he'd do is force you into anything. He deserved to work for your trust back. "I'm so sorry, baby, please." There wasn't much he could make himself say. His ears picked up on your silent sobs and he dropped his forehead on the door, his hands on it as well. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see you. It's been so long, hm? Since we last saw each other? I just want to hold you."

You didn't know how to feel. You just did something so very, very wrong. This is the type of behavior that gets you in the basement and a chain on your ankle for decoration. You broke out and practically flipped the kitchen upside-down. What isn't he going to do to you??? You didn't even realize yourself speaking through your tears. Constant 'leave me alone's slipped through your lips as you cried. You were so damn scared of what he'd do to you.

Outside the door, Kento shakes his head at your words and presses the side of his face to the door to hear you better. "No, no, no, no, baby. I won't hurt you, I promise. Can you please trust me just this once? I just want to make sure you're okay. You're hungry, I can tell. Just let me help you and you can get all of the food you want, okay??" Kento shakes the doorknob subconsciously, which makes you gasp in fear. Kento flinches away from it when he hears you make the sound and immediately and tells you he won't do it again.

He continues trying to verbally sooth you through the door, telling you repeatedly that it's okay. "....Everyone has limits. And I pushed you to yours." You wipe your face of your tears and push yourself to your feet.

Slowly, you hesitate, but take your quiet steps towards the door. Nanami can't hear anything on the other side. Are you okay? Why are you quiet? Are you trying to escape through the window??? It's bolted. Never mind. He's worried. "Darling?" He silently whispers. All he gets is the sound of his own breaths.

Then the loud sound of the lock clicks and he takes a step back. The door cracks open, extremely slowly. It's almost impossible to tell. You only leave enough space to look through about 1 inch to peek at him through the door. And even with that much to look at, he can tell you are so scared. He shouldn't have done this. The constant anxiety this is giving him continues to make his stomach cramp. A wobbly smile makes its way onto his face. "There she is! Can you-.....please let me take you out of that room?" He stumbles over his words, his arms awkwardly spreading out to seem as if he's friendly.

The silence you let grow only leaves room for more interpretation. You just stare at him with that stone cold eye. Almost as if you're trying to see through him. But nothing is hiding behind his face but the constant stress he's getting from stressing you out. He obviously loves you too much. He gets overprotective sometimes.

You open the door and step out and his shoulders relax as he very carefully looks over you. You used the bucket. Which was good. So, you were at least somewhat clean. You just looked.....hungry. Your face seemed slimmer, your eyes sunken in exhaustion(not that much, but he's great at details when it comes to you).

Before you could stop him, he was cleaning the kitchen and got to running you a bath and making dinner.

[meownotgood]

to admit everything / gale dekarios

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Several months after your adventure's conclusion, Gale invites you to visit his tower in Waterdeep — and finally, he finds the courage to admit his feelings for you.

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pairing: gale dekarios x reader

word count: 36.0k

tags: 18+, smut with feelings (and a fair bit of plot), reader is tav, reader is fem bodied (but no gendered terms are used), love confessions, fic takes place after the epilogue, "you fell first but he fell harder", mild sensory deprivation, inappropriate uses of magic, gale talks a Lot, slight angst (but there's a happy ending, don't worry), dirty talk, fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms, oral (reader receiving), tender sex, slight mentions of blasphemy, i am not immune to his wizardly charms....

read on ao3

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this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

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When Gale wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, for the first time in ages, you can finally relax. 

From your stiff shoulders, down to the ends of your toes, your weary muscles untense. It's as though he's cast a spell on you; which you know he could do, but he doesn't have to. A soft palm cradles the back of your head, and he pulls you in closer. You bury your head in his chest, the smooth velvet of his shirt rubbing your cheek. 

Slowly, deeply, you inhale. You're enveloped in the familiar scent of him: the rich smell of pine, filling your senses with something tender. Something you've missed. The breeze that wafts in from his balcony veils you in a breath of the sea. Gale always found a way to smell the same as a book's crisp pages. He'd carry the faint aroma of the scrolls he often littered his tent with, or of his library, regardless of how long you spent surrounded by nothing but wilderness. 

The intimacy of it is enough to make you dizzy. If you had things your way, you'd hug him tight like this, and you wouldn't ever think of letting him go. 

"It feels as though it's been forever since we were last acquainted," Gale says in your ear quietly. Genuinely, with the slightest exhale tacked on at the end — and still, after hearing his voice for hours, watching as he lectured his pupils on some form of magic you've barely heard of, you believe you wouldn't mind listening for a few hours more. 

"Our get-together wasn't that long ago, you know," You counter, voice slightly muffled, spoken into his chest. 

"Yes, but surely you understand." His grip on you seems to tighten as you both rock gently, back and forth, "It's rather difficult to go from spending nearly every moment you're awake with someone, to only having the pleasure of meeting them on a few select occasions. Allow me to savor this moment, please. There may not be another one like it." 

There may not be another one. 

Gods, you know he's right. Both of you are busy, now. You live in two separate cities, lead two separate lives. There's others from the party you haven't seen; not yet, anyways. The only reason you saw Gale now is because back then, you had the foresight to plan to. 

That inevitable prospect is one you aren't sure you want to think about. You don't want to imagine parting from Gale again. 

Your friends would've called you sappy. They might've gone and teased you for taking forever to meet with the damn wizard in the first place. You obviously wanted to. The hug you gave him back then was hardly a friendly one. More like a I'm glad you're here, now don't you dare leave again sort of hug. Not to mention the way Gale himself eyed you for the rest of the party — as if no-one would notice. 

Truthfully, your life has been busier than you hoped it would be, ever since your adventure's big conclusion. You did want to see Gale again. Of course you did. But simply wanting isn't good enough. The party was the first time you saw him since then, and this has been the first time after that. 

You were hoping to relax for a while. To spend time away from the stress. You definitely earned it. Unfortunately, you've wound up doing anything but. 

Make no mistake, you're unbelievably grateful to no longer be dealing with a world-ending threat, or a parasite in your brain. Helping to rebuild the city is nothing compared to the shit you've already dealt with. You're happy that you no longer have to worry over whether you'll even make it out of this alive. Whether any of you will still be alive, in the end. But you've hardly been able to settle. Not in the way you wanted to, at least. 

For as many people that revere you, that now think of you as a hero, those words seem to do nothing for you. For as big and grand of a city as Baldur's Gate still is, and for as long as you've called it your home, it's only begun to feel like the loneliest place in the world. 

And your friends — Obviously you'd wind up going your separate ways. It'd be stupid to think otherwise. You have different lives to return to, new struggles to face. You know that. It doesn't change how much you've grown to miss them. 

There won't come a time where you'll stop missing those moments, you figure. The times when things were quiet, when you worked together, grew together. That's okay. Some allegiances aren't meant to last forever. In the end, it was an idea you made peace with. Until one of your companions stubbornly refused to leave your heart. 

You peer up at him, as Gale looks down at you, before he lets go of you slowly, almost hesitantly. He pulls backward, meeting your eyes. This embrace reminds you of the one from back then. You don't fail to notice how his expression softens around the edges, how he takes your hands, gently squeezing them. Ultimately, he allows them to slip away, letting go. 

You carried your thoughts of him with you, long after you'd since parted ways. The sound of his voice, the softness it seemed to take on whenever you're the one he was speaking to. The accidental touches, the brushes of fingers. An arm placed in front of you, to usher you behind him whenever he thought you might get hurt. 

Without the ability to pry into his thoughts, you have no clue whether he fondly remembers things the same way you do. You were unmistakably close, once. In an earlier time, you brought your hands to his shoulders, you kept your eyes locked on his. Your words were shaky. Your heart was pounding, shaking against the cage of your chest. You can't lose him, you remember admitting, and Gale smiled, told you that you wouldn't. Even though you knew damn well there was more he wasn't telling you. 

Hindsight would convince you the only thing he concealed was how truly scared he was. If you did feel more for each other, if what you thought you understood wasn't a lie — No matter what ways you tried, neither of you could hide it, but you certainly couldn't talk about it either. 

It's difficult to search for the time to discuss unadmitted feelings when your lives are constantly on the line. Impossible, actually. Honestly, you weren't sure how you'd tell him, regardless of if you could. Nevermind the playful encouragement of your companions, or the listless jabs at your solitude from your undead resurrector, this sort of thing has never been your forte. Hey, I care for you more than good friends are supposed to, is that alright? 

I couldn't stand to see anything happen to you, and I hoped you might notice, might do what I'm not able to. You could look into my head with a single word, and yet nothing but distance has grown in between us. 

I'd travel it, if I was able. I want you to understand, I never hoped to part from you. I never want you to shut up whenever you're telling me about magic, or history, or any of the things you know everything about, even once you quiet down because you think I do. 

How am I supposed to tell you that? 

You can't, and you didn't. You both had the fate of the world in your hands, and the last thing either of you needed to be worrying about were your up-in-the-air feelings. 

You would ignore the elated blankness in your head whenever Gale eased the tension with a smile flashed your way. You pushed down the giddiness in your chest whenever he gave a gentle yet pragmatic comment, one you tried not to read into. Over and over, you would pretend not to be flustered by his small touches, by the glances that lasted a little longer than they should. Despite the ache of your heart in your chest, you convinced yourself that you and him were friends. Nothing more. 

Yes, friends who would sneak into one another's tents when everyone else was asleep to quietly talk, laughing together until the sun began to graze the horizon. Friends who kept each other going, who saw one another when they were weakest: torn apart by the Gods, with nothing left to do but pick up the pieces. Friends who are the only ones to know what the other is truly thinking, no spells or uncanny mind connections needed. 

You're simply mere acquaintances. Two people on the same bloody path, who just so happened to be lucky enough to meet, and managed to grow closer than acquaintances ever should be. You were pushed together by circumstance. You chose to understand each other with purpose. 

Has Gale ever yearned for more, in the way you've yearned for him? 

Gale is observant. He knows you, he'd know if there was something up with you. Likely, he already does. More so, he's ambitious; he wouldn't forget about you, everything vying to push you away be damned. You've come too far to suddenly cast each other aside. But some things are better left unspoken. 

Eventually, you expected you'd never find out the truth. You were too little, too late. The closest you ever got to a true confession was in the moments you found yourselves alone, and those are few and far between, these days. Now that you've run out of excuses, even now that everything is over, he's here and you are alive — You can't say a damn thing. 

You think it's why you haven't seen him. You've been busy, yes, leading a new life and grappling with your newfound freedoms, but given the chance, you'd put every last thing aside to make time for him. When those feelings of yours are left to build and build, they threaten to drown. And drown you did. 

It's strange, how meeting with him again can feel like finally being coaxed to breathe, and like suffocating freely, all at the same time. 

You decide to breathe in once more, and break the silence at last. 

"You're ridiculous sometimes," You scoff, shaking your head. Your tone is more fragile than you intended, as you catch yourself in your own hypocrisy. You still manage to throw him a warm glance. "I thought we were both past talking that way. We have all the time the world is generous enough to offer us. Do you really think I wouldn't plan on seeing you again?" 

Gale's lips tip upward to form his usual smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled. To a combination of your bewilderment and delight, you're already melting. 

"They say old habits die hard, I suppose," He replies, first shrugging his shoulders, and then standing up straighter. He clasps his hands together, positioning them uniformly behind his back. "And who knows? I wasn't sure how much enjoyment you drew from being an honorary professor for the day. Seemed as if you were a tad overwhelmed, actually." 

"Of course I was. Well, I was anxious, more like." You're staring off to the side while you think, crossing your arms over your chest. "I mean, you said your students think of me as a hero. I was trying not to say anything stupid." 

"In that case, I'd say you have no need to worry," Gale answers, "You sounded perfectly eloquent." 

Meeting his eyes again, you huff, "I'm glad you think so. I enjoyed today. But seriously, I came here for you, Gale. Not because I was ecstatic about teaching." 

You swear that if you were to squint, you'd see the smallest twinge of pure adoration on the normally-so-confident wizard's face. 

Gale raises a fist to his mouth and clears his throat. "I understand your qualms, but truly, you did well. No-one finds teaching to be easy- I mean, it's an unbelievably stubborn process, if anything. I've always been the recipient of lectures. Never the other way around, until my newfound position. It took me quite a while to get a good grasp of things, believe you me." 

"Really?" You raise a brow, "I, for one, thought your teaching was impeccable. I was looking forward to asking for some pointers from Professor Dekarios himself, actually." 

"Oh, come on. Your flattery is far from needed," He replies, his tone breathy and playful. You exhale a faint chuckle, and when you grin back, his own smile seems to soften at the edges. A look reserved exclusively for you. 

Gale continues, "You've seen my pupils for yourself now. You know how difficult they can be. In the face of such… stunning magic," His eyes narrow, he makes an open-palmed gesture of wonderment to illustrate his point, "Magic they themselves could learn to wield, it's rare to see them at least attempt to stay awake. I take some of the blame, of course. At certain moments, I thought you were teaching them better than I ever have." 

"Nonsense," You roll your eyes light-heartedly, placing a hand on your hip, "They do well on their tests, right? I doubt your teachings are lost on them. Besides, it's like you said. Being a teacher isn't easy." 

"True. However, I certainly think we make an impressive team." 

With one last smile, and a nod of his head, Gale turns, striding over to his small wooden desk. 

The space is surrounded by bookshelves, the desk's every surface littered in open books and scrolls of its own. He thumbs through the stack of papers he set there earlier, essays his students turned in — A paper about the history of magic was his instruction, if you remember right. Gale was less than satisfied with their results, but in his own words, he couldn't fault them. 

They are the same as I was, when I was their age. A spitting image, really. Dodging written assignments, snoozing through most lectures. They're talented, there's no denying it. Preventing them from picking up my bad habits is where matters turn difficult. 

He lifts the stack, tapping the papers against the desk to make them straight. Then, he sets them neatly aside. He clearly has a specific place for them, though you don't think you'd ever be able to make sense of the mess, yourself. 

"Either way," He starts, organizing more loose papers and scattered books while he talks. His back may be turned towards you, but you can picture his face clearly: the lightest smirk, the pinch of his brows, "I'm sure my students were pleased to hear from someone other than me for a change. Dare I say when you were speaking, they actually paid attention." 

Delicately, like the simplest of words are valuable porcelain, you mutter, "Is that so? I should come see you more often, then." 

Gale freezes for a second. His next few sentences come out much sweeter than he intended them to, but by the time he's opened his mouth, he isn't able to stop himself. 

"I'd enjoy that. I truly would," He says, and setting the books he's holding aside, he turns to face you. He swallows the lump in his throat, and when he's speaking next, he's talking with his hands as he tries — and fails, mostly — to hide his nervous cadence. 

"You don't need to come simply to help me teach," He explains, "I appreciate it, of course, but it's far from necessary. My home is always open to you. If you need to unwind someplace quiet, or if you're hoping to browse the grandest collection of tomes this side of Waterdeep, you're welcome to stay. For as long as you'd like." 

The offer means more to you than he might realize. 

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." 

"No, thank you," Gale retorts, "I cannot overstate how much I appreciated seeing you again. Today was a delight." 

Your glance travels away, and you try to ignore the warmth prickling over your face. From his open balcony, the sun casts shimmering rays as it falls. Light glitters over the ocean's rocky waves. The sea breeze is growing sharper; it whispers in your ears, and tickles the hair on the back of your neck. When you take a deep inhale, the air seems to catch in your lungs, holding on, unwilling to let go. 

Finally, faintly, you reply, "You'll have to show me more of Waterdeep, next time. It's a beautiful city." 

"Splendid, isn't it? I could show you around tomorrow, or even tonight, if you aren't too exhausted from today. The sights are particularly breathtaking then, when they're allowed to flourish under the cover of stars and moonlight." 

Gale takes a step closer to you, and you're left to look up at him again. At the way the light caresses his skin, at his handsome features framed by a gentle smile. 

"There's so many wonders I want you to see." He confesses. 

More than that. He's longed for more than he's admitted to, more than everything he thought mattered, before he met you. There's so much he wants to show you, so much he needs to tell you, he's begun to lose track of it all. 

Ever since you parted ways, he's felt something missing. Those adventures, your company and that of your unlikely band of companions: they're all things he's grown to miss dearly. In hopes he'd move on, he overwhelmed himself with the endeavors of his new life. He focused on teaching, on studying, on magic. No matter what, he was filled with an ache he couldn't extinguish. 

You'd tease him if he mentioned it. He can imagine your voice, mumbling playfully with a flash of teeth and a sparkle in your gaze, Something missing? A tadpole in your brain, maybe? 

Very funny, he'd answer. And he'd leave it at that, because you've given him an out, a chance not to make a fool of himself. He doesn't need everyone to hear how sentimental he's become — and especially not you. If only you knew the half of it. 

You took a piece of him with you when you left, pried from the space between his ribs, fated to burn in your embers. He hasn't stopped missing you with such ferocity. With a certain kind of hunger. It's damn near worse than when the orb once gnawed at him. 

To have you now almost feels like a dream. He keeps thinking he might wake up, that this will melt away to leave him and him alone. This shouldn't be real, you both shouldn't have made it. Gale recalls with sickening familiarity when the end of his life felt so close. He can remember even clearer the moment he found a new purpose in you. 

You've been important to him from the start; he doesn't do a very good job of hiding it, does he? Those stolen glances were easily caught. His nervousness whenever you're with him concedes enough to make him obvious. 

He could have told you. Could have admitted how you make the fragile strings of his heart strum with every fond call of his name. You could have known the way he felt between soft breaths, and close bodies. During the moment when he showed you how to wield the Weave at your fingertips. It would have been terribly simple. A single thought, and you'd not only know, but you'd feel his own emotions rushing into you — A rippling river of infatuation. Isn't it unfortunate then, that you tend to make his mind so blank? 

The heart can be so cruel. No longer can he give you what he was aspiring to grace you with. He can't give you power. He can't offer you the abundances of a God, or the beauty of a plane away from this one. Only the ordinary. 

Falling for you was never the problem. You weren't someone he believed he deserved. 

His own hesitance forms a maddening sphere to be trapped in, and he knows it's his own fault; his own fear is to blame, his edge of destruction. You gave him hope. You've given him more than he ever could have desired, and that includes ascension. Is it so wrong for him to want more? 

Many times, he's certainly thought so. He doesn't need anything else. He has already touched the heavens and beyond with the time he's spent by your side. Your dumb adventures, your talks, the uncertain closeness. It was nearly all he needed to be sated. 

Nearly. 

"Gale…" 

Your soft utterance of his name snaps him out of his thoughts. Gale examines you, and you're glancing away, an expression he can't make out on your face. The setting sun bathes you in intoxicating orange light. You seem to have your own halo, your own radiance that defies reason. You defy a lot of the things he thought he knew. 

He can only answer with a small, breathy, "Yes?" 

A little while longer, and he might be ready. One night spent looking at the sky, or another time to confide in the comfort of your voice and your presence. He'll make it perfect. He'll find the courage, or the stars will witness his failure once again. 

Crossing paths with you changed everything about himself he once thought he understood, and he finds the revelation as funny as it is delightful. To have you to miss was a privilege, in and of itself. Fate was never a concept he believed in, but evidently, the threads of his fortune had more in store for him. You became more than a wish, you were tangible. You were kind, intelligent, you were defiance incarnate. You rewrote the part of his story he thought untouchable. He watched Gods kneel at your feet, and he felt your softness latch onto him like a second home. 

And he finally has time, doesn't he? 

The time to tell you, the time to spend with you. Because he is alive, and the restlessness and nervousness he still feels inside shouldn't matter. How foolish he once was, for thinking things would turn out any other way. 

In every other life, you still would've saved him. In a life where he was better, less scared, and not so temporary, perhaps you would have known he loved you already. 

"I couldn't. I… I want to stay," You're starting; regret tugs at the edges of your voice, and Gale begins to feel his heart sink with each and every word. "Maybe I could some other time, but I can't now, I shouldn't. There's business that needs to be dealt with back home, in Baldur's Gate- I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner." 

Gale huffs an impeccably dry laugh. He grins just slightly, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and he softly responds, "Busy, aren't you? The grand savior of Baldur's Gate is needed on the field, I see. I understand. I won't hold you any longer." 

"You aren't holding me up, Gale. It's nothing important, I guess I just…" Trailing off, you inhale deeply, trying not to stumble over your own words. Your glance darts from the floor of his study to the sculptures to the trinkets — Anything to keep your eyes away from his. "I didn't want to intrude. It would feel strange if I stayed. Like I'd be taking advantage of your hospitality, I suppose." 

Gale frowns. "I promise you this, on absolutely everything left in our universe for me to promise on, you could never intrude. I meant my words, I told you that you could stay for as long as you desire, and-" 

"I know." You answer, like a frustrated plea, like a sacrificial revelation. Your hands ball up at your sides. Your voice is loud, before it goes quiet. "I know. It's my fault, alright? This doesn't have anything to do with you. I just can't stay." 

The air grows so tense it's almost suffocating. Though, for only a second or two. 

"So, becoming my honorary guest professor was that bad, was it?" Gale hums. 

Then, you're laughing weakly, you're brushing an awkward hand over the back of your neck and looking up at him, your expression now pleasantly amused. His doting gaze meets yours, framed by a few out of place strands of hair. 

"No," You mumble teasingly, stretching out the end of the word with a roll of your eyes; he always knows how to make you weak. "And I've already promised to come teach with you again. As long as you aren't worried about me showing you up, that is." 

"Oh, by all means, do show me up plenty," He eagerly replies, "I won't try to stop you." 

You huff a quick chuckle, and there it is again — Your gaze, sparkling. Gale feels the way you draw him in without trying, until his attention is fully focused on you. Until you have him right where you want him. To think of how doomed he'd be if you ever got your hands on some charming magic. 

"I've really missed you, y'know," You're admitting. Your tone is different somehow, unmistakably. "The party honestly has felt like forever ago. Back then, I thought we didn't have near enough time. Catching up was pleasant, but it felt… imperfect. And now, we spent an entire day together. You're right here in front of me, and yet, still. I miss you." 

Gale's jaw clenches, and with nothing left to stop you, you continue. 

Your throat grows tight. You expel a long, heavy sigh. "Do you want me to tell you the truth?" 

"I wouldn't shy away from it." He returns. 

"If I stay for any longer, I wouldn't have it in me to leave." Your gaze dances over his own, and he understands the uncertainty, mixed with faint emotions he doesn't. "Not ever." 

For what is probably the first time since you've met him, Gale goes completely, utterly silent. You watch him think, his expression pinching — perhaps irritated at his own loss for words — before he softens. His chest rises slowly with the deep breath he takes. Light glitters off his silver earring. Shadows form in his features, his lips part in an almost-sentence. In the end, he swallows it down, and grits his teeth together to the point of pain. 

You're standing close. So close, he can see the slight, frustrated crinkle in your brows that only seems to furrow more the longer he stays quiet. So close, he could lean in if he wanted to, and relay the depths of his longing from his hesitant lips onto yours. 

It isn't like him to be speechless this long. 

Your head tilts towards him, tender curiosity on your face. Your arm outstretches, and a hand gently begins to reach in his direction. "Gale?" 

He's about to do something foolish. Something very, very unwise. He'd attempt to stop himself, if the words weren't already forming on his tongue. He'd give up as he did before, if only the dying light wasn't so lovely on you. 

At least he knows it won't be the most nonsensical thing he's done.

Gale's gaze fills with warmth, with a devotion so resolute, you could believe you really are some form of a God. He catches your hand, and grasps it in a clumsy way; more clinging than holding, as fingers brush knuckles, folded over one another. As if you might disappear when he lets go. 

This time, there's no more room for wondering. No more hesitation, no barriers, just himself and you: his fallen star, his lovely demise. It doesn't matter what he does or doesn't do, your existence will never leave his veins, running deeper than the fear and the magic ever has. The same way the Weave crackles at his fingertips, adoring you comes naturally. You are yourself, and you, in all your love, in flesh and bone — You are worth anything, or perhaps everything. 

A little while longer. To the Hells with that. 

"I'm in love with you." 

It's easier to say those words than he expected. They just sort of happen; really, they seem natural. He's been agonizing for ages, but to hear his own voice say them aloud cements his feelings as true. He is in love with you. An honest, mortal love. 

He doesn't have the time to worry over the consequences, because you've heard him loud and clear. His heart won't stop pounding, and pounding, and pounding. 

Almost instantly, your eyes are going wide. Your own grip on his hand turns loose. Surprise washes warmly over your face, settling as a pleasant tingle in the expanse of your shoulders. For a moment, you don't speak. You take in quick, nervous breaths, feeling your lungs choked by emotion and sea salt. 

"You really- Why're you-" You sputter, stumbling back slightly and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Your arms go slack as you expel a faint sigh, "Gale-" 

"You do not have to say anything. And you're under no obligation to stay." Gale interrupts, his tone abruptly serious. His expression reflects the same sort of solemness, his brows in a knot. He tries to hide the shake to his words, tries to chase away his worries, "You can leave, if you wish. You can leave, and we can never speak of this again. I wouldn't blame you. I couldn't blame you. I'd know better, not to chase after you and… to simply leave things as they are. Like I should have done now. If I wasn't the ass that I am." 

A brief pause. Your eyes scan him, and Gale resists the urge to let his nervousness get the better of him. 

"But I had to speak," He says. "This may be my only chance. I can't lie to you in the same way I've lied to myself." 

Your next words are spoken with conviction. You squeeze his hand, and the dizzy room around him finally begins to steady — "Then tell me, Gale. I want you to tell me everything." 

It's like the sun is shining right onto him. Heat and pure energy rushes from your hands into his, your voice a conduit for emotion. You practically give him a head rush. 

Gale swallows, steadies. Then, he speaks. 

"And what an abundance of things I could tell you." 

Grasping your hands and squeezing them back, he's smiling again, but this time, it's different. The whole moment seems different. He's wearing an excited, heartfelt sort of smile, a look you think you've never seen before. Well, perhaps you saw it once. 

You're reminded of the way he looked at you many, many nights ago. When your fates weren't assured. When you gazed upon the stars together, admiring the aurora he created — dazzling light, to pierce the sky of shadow. That memory seems so near, yet so far away. His solemness melted to gentleness back then, too. Your souls felt closer than they ever had. 

Was this what he wanted to tell you that night? 

"Let's see," Gale is continuing, and you're grinning, watching his head tilt as he puts on an air of confidence; his own form of sincerity. 

"I wonder what I should tell you first? Should I detail each intricate moment, every subtle action that made me fall so deeply for you? For your determination, your ingenuity. Your beauty. Gods, you shouldn't get me started. If you truly wanted me to describe every single thing I adore about you, well, I believe we'd be nothing but dust by the time I was finished." 

You can't help but chuckle. Gale's gaze travels over you, and you let yourself take him in. His fingertips absently run over your knuckles. His shoulders are tense with a hesitance he can't manage to hide. 

"I'll make a terribly long-winded story brief, before I bore you with my sentiments." This time, he sounds a fair bit quieter. The depths of his honeyed gaze, ever-softening, become impossible to look away from. 

"You are very special to me." He gently explains, "More than words can describe, and certainly more than anything else. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. While the world was crumbling around us, begging to be saved, I thought myself content, if only I could spend whatever remained of my time at your side." 

Carefully, Gale reaches forwards. Between his fingers, with the slightest, most exhilarating touch, he holds your chin, he tilts your head in his direction. Your heart begins to hammer in your chest to an unsteady rhythm. 

"Love does not even begin to describe it. You are wonderful. You are the special sort of magic one might spend their entire life searching for. The most divine of desires. I've no need to search anymore." 

A brush of his thumb over your mouth, and his calloused fingers are splaying back to caress your cheek, to feel the shape of your jaw, "I have the heavens right in my hands. All the spectacles and splendors of Faerûn are jealous of you." 

You relax, and when his grasp drops from your chin, you let your hand slip away from his — only to wrap your arms around him, elbows resting on his shoulders. He admires you intently, gauging your reaction, his heart skipping at your touch and the subtle flash of shyness behind your eyes. A sort of analysis you've seen him use when he was examining an artifact, or mulling over a game of lanceboard. The tender focus his face takes on makes you huff in amusement. 

With a teasing raise of your brow, you manage to ask, "How many times have you practiced saying that to me?" 

"A hundred times. A thousand times." Gale keeps his arms at his sides, despite the way you embrace him tighter. In the corner of your vision, you catch him starting to reach out. His hands hover inches away from your waist, he flexes them in thought. 

"No, I often went back and forth on the precise method I would use to confess, given I actually had the gall to do it, but," He explains, a slight playful air to his tone, "Those words were from the heart. Just a few specs of fondness from my vast nebula of love for you. If you can believe that." 

"They're very… you. In a good way." Your smile is bright. He thinks it might continue to warm him, long after the point of the sun's imminent descent. "It's a shame, though. I wasn't expecting you to beat me to it. I've been practicing how I would tell you I'm in love with you since we met." 

If there's one thing you've come to know about the wizard, it's that he's collected. 

Calm, mostly. But unperturbed always. He's optimistic to a fault, and he's never been the type to seem nervous or timid, even if he might be feeling that way. He's an honest man, but also controlled — You have to exercise a certain amount of control to wield magic. Or to keep your own body from exploding to bits, you figure. With the orb posing much less of a threat, he's clearly more relaxed, but his emotions still don't show so easily. 

You've seen him scared. But nervous? Shy? Those sorts of feelings were never in his repertoire. He's never once stumbled over his words, never been red-faced, never faltered from his confidence and his verbosity. Until now. 

"You- You have?" Gale sounds so in disbelief, you swear his voice nearly cracks. He clears his throat awfully loudly, he glances between you and something in the distance. Which proves to be difficult, considering how close you are. Has the skin underneath his collar always felt so hot? "I had no idea. I mean, clearly, but- But still." 

"I wasn't sure if you knew. You're more charming than you give yourself credit for," You clarify softly, "I thought for sure you'd make a move at that little tiefling party. Started planning what I might say and everything. Apparently, you failed to realize I was flirting with you." 

"I wasn't even trying to woo you then," Gale mumbles, thinking to himself. "Well, that's- Hah, quite the discovery, now isn't it? Care to- uhm, enlighten me on what it was you planned to say, exactly?" 

"Mmm, possibly. You seem flustered. Should I show you, instead?" 

"Show me?" 

"Yes," You stand up straighter, making his heart race faster as you move impossibly closer to him, "I'll show you what I really wanted to do back then." 

"Whatever you wish would be fine with me- Er, wrong choice of words." The breeze drifting through his study is cold enough to form goosebumps, and yet he can't seem to quit burning up. He runs a quick hand through his hair, feeling the heat from his forehead underneath his palm, "Whatever you wish is perfect, I should say. If you want to- or, well, perhaps I could…" 

Gale doesn't get the chance to say anything more. 

He expects you to lean in. Sharply, he takes in a hurried, nervous breath. Uncertain palms hover over the curve of your waist, before settling with the slightest touch. His eyes grow heavy, his head begins to tilt opposite yours. What he doesn't expect is for you to stop, your lips almost pressed to his, but not quite, leaving the distance not yet closed. 

You suspend there, for a moment. Your low breathing tickles his skin. Gale's hand finds your cheek, holding, and nothing more. 

"Are you going to kiss me?" 

There's only a half-second longer of hesitance. He closes the gap, and you fist the front of his shirt to pull him in along with you. Your eyes flutter shut. Fallen stars and glowing warmth shimmer through every inch of you. At last, your lips connect in a quaint, subtle kiss. Smooth, simple, and utterly him. 

Shoulders slumping, your pulse thrums like the unsteady flicker of a candle flame. Your head begins to spin, your heart throbs with fiery longing. This is what you were waiting for. When you burned from the inside-out, wanting nothing more than to forget reason and your lives and his cruel Goddess, you only longed to just kiss him, regardless of the consequences. Everything else melts away: the setting sun, his warmly-lit tower, and your own feet from under you. 

He's hardly done anything, and you're already overwhelmed. To your dismay, the kiss is over almost as soon as it begins. The both of you draw a breath's length apart. Gentle hands give your waist the smallest squeeze. You exhale, and Gale takes in a deeper breath along with you. Kissing him made the rest of the world fall away, or perhaps fall into place, and all you can think of is how desperately you need another. 

Maybe he can read your mind, or maybe he's thinking the exact same thing. Delicately, Gale murmurs against your lips, "Forgive me for being greedy, but… I'm not sure that'll be enough for me. Could I kiss you again?" 

As if he even has to ask. 

With urgency, you're surging forwards, you're kissing him again and he can't manage to think — The only thing running through every inch of him is you. You, kissing him the way he's wanted you to for months upon months. Pressing your lips against his over and over, stealing his breath until he's feeling dizzy, but he doesn't care. You, lovely in a way he's never deserved, with a soul entwined by his own. You told him you love him; he can hardly stand to believe it. 

Lips locked, you twist together, until Gale is guiding you by your waist. Until he's pressing your back against the edge of the nearest surface — his desk — to keep you both stable, while your hands are grabbing at his shoulders for leverage. You let a hand glide up, you tangle your fingers in soft brown hair. You grip and tug, dragging him close, and he sighs, mouth parting, allowing the kiss to turn deep. Enough to mark the point of no return. 

This is everything he's ever wanted, you are the only thing he's ever needed. He could die happy, if this was his end. What a sweet, lovely end it would be. He can't describe how otherworldly it is, to know the desire he's had to kiss you won't die along with him. To know you have plenty of kisses left. 

He could love you like this until the true end of the world. He's tempted actually, to slow down time, and savor you for as long as you will allow. You were well worth dying for, but you are priceless to live for. You and your touch, your love. Love — Gods, none of this will feel real, no matter how many times he reminds himself. 

When his tongue slides against yours, a slow, apprehensive show of tenderness, you feel a shiver careen down your spine. He hears your breath get caught in your lungs, feels you tug him closer and arch into his touch once a palm drifts to the small of your back. 

This kiss hopes to pour his devotion into you, so that you might understand. You'll know love, know the things he's always wanted to tell you, as familiar as you know yourself. He'll make sure this moment won't be forgotten. 

You reach behind you, gripping the edge of the desk when his body presses into yours. Your mind is a mess, reeling so fast you might go woozy; another smooth kiss makes you pull him in further, ushering from him a meager gasp in surprise. You're lost, losing control. The both of you are trapped in a dance of vying for more, pressing closer, kissing harder. His knee slots between your legs — unintended encouragement, you're sure — and you jolt, your thoughts now occupied with things they really, really shouldn't be. 

The smallest space between you fills with hot breath, as you pull apart just enough to get a word out. "Gale-"

"I've missed you," He murmurs, breathless and hurried, as though he doesn't wish to waste a single second, "I have missed you more than anything." 

He leans close once more, his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and cradle you like you're precious. You kiss again, and any reservations you still have remaining fly away on the breeze, to be swallowed by the depths of the sea. 

You don't want to stop. No, you know where this is leading, and still, you can't stop. You wouldn't dream of it. How long have you wanted to kiss him, wanted to have him to yourself? Wanted for him to lose his composure, and finally show you exactly how he felt? How long have you been waiting for more? 

Since you met him, surely. Since you dragged him from that portal. Since he first shook your hand, and you felt your foolish heart spark to life. Piece by tender piece, you connected in secret. Fought through darkness to emerge onto the dawn, hoped the newfound day might bring you both together. Truly, you've waited too long to let a moment like this go to waste. 

You pull apart for barely a second, you catch your breath while Gale mutters something against your mouth that sounds like your own name — And at once, you're closing the distance again. Your lips continue to learn the shape of each other, bodies shaky, rocking close. When a particularly desperate kiss causes his hips to drive into yours, you're the one left sighing. Your nerves prickle with excitement, your limbs feel weak. And a hardness, his hardness, shoves against you unmistakably, grinding into where you're terribly weak. 

Oh, you won't be stopping now. Not any time soon. 

Gale stiffens immediately, at the same moment you do. He peels himself apart from you so quickly you're left slumping, gasping into open air. You would have stumbled, if it wasn't for his hand on your waist gripping excessively tight, helping to hold you up. Faltering, he slowly lets go. Before he does, you think you can feel a slight tremble in his fingers. 

"Ah, I'm- I'm sorry, genuinely," He stutters, practically panting as he tries to establish composure, a frail waver in his voice. You grip the desk tighter, staggering to your feet. The last traces of sunlight shimmer over his face, his earring, his eyes. Strands of his hair have fallen out of place, and he reaches up to briefly push them backward. 

"You make it far too easy to get carried away." He says, sounding rough and short-winded, "That being said, it would be wise not to take things too far, that was- Well, you are-" 

"That was perfect," You gasp out, cutting him off, or perhaps taking the words right out of his mouth. You bring a hand to his shoulder, an unspoken plea for him not to move away, "You don't have to stop, Gale. Please, don't." 

Gale takes a long, slow breath. Hesitantly, he brings both hands back to rest on your waist — barely touching, his gaze scanning yours for any sign of discomfort. "Are you sure? Positively sure? Maybe it'd help if you, er, clarified, in a way." 

"I'm clarifying that I want you to keep going. You don't have to hesitate, I want this," You retort, speaking softly, squeezing his shoulder in turn. Your eyes flicker over him, up and then down. "I showed you how I felt. It's only fair for you to return the favor, no?" 

"Oh, of course. Fairness is one of the most crucial qualities to hone, in terms of forming a long-lasting bond. So says literature, anyways. But I think I'd prefer to mesh the showing with the telling, if that sounds at all pleasurable to you." 

You're smirking. "As long as your sweet voice isn't the only pleasure in store for me." 

He exhales a small huff, the faintest form of a laugh. A smile crosses his features, and he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, admiring you like you're the prettiest sight this world has to offer. You very well might be. 

His gaze comes to rest on yours: warm, complex, loving. For once, he doesn't speak. He demonstrates. 

A small kiss is pressed to your cheek, innocent yet tender. Then, a kiss to the other side. His kisses travel; one he graces to the corner of your mouth, the next he places on the angle of your jaw. Your head tilts up in obedience, and he trails wet kisses down your neck, making you sigh weakly in response. 

One more kiss is graced to your neck, then your nape, then just above your collarbone. They're weighted, in a way; heavy with an infatuation you can feel beneath his touch, and deep in your bones. His facial hair tickles your skin. His warm breath on your pulse is stifling, and it only begins to thump faster, fully at the mercy of his scattered kisses. 

Meshing the showing, with the telling — It isn't long before he's babbling again. 

"You hold so much of my heart," He mumbles; the words on your neck are a steady vibration. His palm caresses your side, his lips brush over your cheek, and then move to speak against the shell of your ear. The new depth to his voice is delightful. "Falling for you was… effortless. As effortless as one breathes. I have no regrets. Absolutely none." 

The final kiss he places on your ear has shudders running through you. He's painstakingly slow once he starts to pull back, and he shifts just far enough to meet your eyes, your foreheads almost touching. That warm gaze on yours has your heart leaping all over again. 

Strung through his tone is a thread of infatuation, a sweetness on his tongue you find oh-so endearing. 

"You begged to be admired, but that hardly scratches the surface." He squeezes your side for emphasis. "You made me feel as though I meant something. Like I was alive. I'd forgotten how it felt, just as I'd forgotten what it could mean to fight for one's future." He pauses, thinking, reminiscing, "More so, I could say you brought me back to life." 

Your mouth parts, forming the edge of a word. But Gale chooses to interrupt, tugging you in with a palm settled gingerly on your jaw, muddling your mind with a kiss. And you melt. You allow your head to tilt opposite his own, and your arm to snake between your bodies. Your hand presses flat to the center of his chest. He kisses you deeper, his heart thumps. Lingering magic strong enough to sense thrums beneath his robes, his skin. 

"There's a line of poetry I once read," He's mumbling against your lips as he leaves them. His touch slides up slowly, supporting you, holding your back. "As of late, you've made it stick in my mind. Amidst the wealth of stories I've finished, the tales of truth and fiction, when I think of you, this singular line utterly refuses to part from me. And if one moment spent lost in contemplation equates to the faintest drop of rainwater, I've thought of you enough to flood the entirety of Faerûn." 

Your eyes seem heavy. You're smiling, but your head is swirled in a dreamy fog. It's plain unfair to have to decide between hearing more, or asking him to kiss you again. 

You decide on the former. "And what might that line be?" 

Gale brushes your cheek with his thumb, "I do love nothing in the world so well as you." 

He's completely genuine, he sounds so syrupy-sweet you can barely hold back your grin. You breathe a quiet, playful tsk, and you lean back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

In the course of your adventures together, you weren't sure how Gale felt about you. 

It's rather stupid, thinking back on it now. Obviously, you had your suspicions. He was certainly warmer with you, compared to the rest of your allies. Despite knowing you could clearly take care of yourself, he regularly fussed over your safety, to the point of insisting you stick close to him whenever a fight broke out. He'd make a rash excuse, Powerful spells mean nil if you are not in the proper range for me to cover you! — or something like that. You always figured it was an exaggeration. Regardless, you weren't about to turn him down. 

You were attached at the hip for safety's sake, that's all. Your remaining companions never seemed to buy it, nor could they hold their comments about the wizard's clearly defined soft spot. The thoughtful way he spoke to you had to mean more; or so they tried to convince you, anyway. You weren't easily influenced. 

But it didn't matter. Without the courage and the time to ask, you couldn't be sure. You presumed he might like you, not love you. 

This side to Gale is making you reevaluate. You've never seen him so enamored, never thought he'd be this smitten — with you, no less. In his eyes, you're a living beacon of radiance, a miracle meant to be adored. A bright, pale moon to light his way through the darkness, shimmering on jet-black waters. And adore you he will. 

You were wrong, so very wrong. While you were busy falling for him, he was already plummeting harder. 

"That's from a romance, isn't it?" You muse, tilting your head and eyeing him teasingly, "You're reciting romance lines to me?" 

"Not just any romance, mind you. One of the greats. It's charming, very influential. Actually, the story is rather lighthearted- I'd be glad to introduce it to you, I have a feeling you'd enjoy it. But yes, in fact. I am." 

"Somehow, you didn't seem like the romance type. I'm surprised. Pleasantly, though." 

"A fine assumption. For quite some time, stories of a softer nature became subjects I rarely dabbled in." His index finger comes to rest under your chin, and your head is tilted in his direction. "But falling in love causes one to take interest." 

Warmth swells in your veins, untamed. You picture Gale, retreating into his tomes and books when you had a moment of reprieve on the road, struggling to hide his infatuation with you. He'd often read to you, when he was able. His calm voice would narrate biographies and old history novels, until you were trying not to fall asleep. Romances were never a part of it. Perhaps they weren't a part of his personal collection, either. Yet the more you contemplate, the more they seem to suit him. 

Did he read such stories to be reminded of you, to grapple with your absence? You can picture him getting lost in them, memorizing the scenes and the verses, in hopes your own tale might play out more like those novels, and different from what destiny threatened upon you. He yearned for things to be lighter, less somber. In the end, there was no world where you stopped longing for each other. 

"Besides," Gale is continuing in his usual upbeat tone, giving you little time to think as he cups your cheek in his palm, "There's nothing wrong with choosing to be well-versed in everything. Fantasy, poetry, romance. Erotica, perhaps. I'm sure I could recall some more… exciting quotes, if you preferred it?" 

"Please, there's no need," You tease, with the smallest roll of your eyes; although, your heart can't help but patter at the imagery. Gale, reading erotica, of all ridiculous things. "You're sweet. Even now, you're telling me about books. Could you be any more perfect?" 

"Possibly," He confesses. "Where you're concerned, mere perfection is far from good enough." Swallowing the dryness in his throat, his eyes mist over with a saccharine seriousness, "My intentions were always to cherish you, to give you my utmost devotion, and then some. You deserve the world. I only wish I could give it to you." 

"But you are enough for me. More than enough. I was lucky. So lucky, to have been fortunate enough to meet you. I'm not sure where I would be if I hadn't." Your fingertips drum against his shoulders, and gradually, he relaxes at your touch, from your tone. He exhales steadily, nice and slowly. 

"Do you mean it?" 

"Gale, I've never meant anything more. I want you so much. Just the way you are." 

To have crossed paths with one another, to have met you — No, he is the one who must be fortunate beyond compare. 

For a while, he stalls, deciding what to say. Each alternative comes up blank. Your fingers wrap around the neckline of his shirt, then. You feel the embroidered fabric with your thumb, the intricate pattern of swirls. You tug slightly, but Gale — still speechless, oddly enough — doesn't get the hint. 

"Your shirt." When he opens his mouth to reply, you're swiftly interrupting. "Take it off." 

He seems to freeze for a second, thinking. Then, the slightest form of a grin dawns on his face, a look of nervous contentment. He's reaching down to grasp the bottom of his velvet shirt, tugging it over his head. A messy happy trail litters from his stomach to disappear beneath his pants; it catches your attention, but not for long. Gale is pressing his palms to the surface of the desk, on either side of you, caging you in. You drift forward, and the kiss you share is a momentary distraction. 

Effortlessly languid, he kisses you as though you have infinite time, and this is the only way he wishes to spend it. His hand moves to cradle the back of your head, you hold him tight between the soft presses of lips connecting. You exhale in unison once you've both pulled away. 

Foggy breath mixes with your own. It warms your skin as he sighs slightly, leaning forward until his forehead is rested against yours. You watch him visibly swallow. He nervously brings a hand to your waist; just holding, with no intention quite yet. The faintest touch makes you melt, until you feel woven into him, soft beyond repair. 

"Do you have the slightest idea how long I've dreamt of this?" He starts, his voice quiet, shaky, "How much I've thought of you, how badly I've needed you? How long I've sought to… Gods…" 

Your palm grazes his chest, and he trails off into a shuddery sigh — eyes closing, shoulders slumping. Delicate fingertips feel the shape of the Netherese brand engraved in his skin. You trace and retrace the circular indentation. You press your palm flat to his chest, feeling the silent hum of dormant magic, measuring each fluttery beat of his heart. His chest aches, his veins sear with all the heat they can muster. 

That's right. He'd almost begun to forget the effect you have on him. 

You've never been afraid. After learning the truth, you didn't look at him differently. You refused to cast him aside, in the face of his own insistence. A miasma of blinding purple light shone from underneath your palm, pain ripped through him as he relived his self-made tragedy in one single breath — and somehow, you understood. You only pressed your palm closer, expression unwavering, and swore a gracious promise to help. 

You've helped him more than you know. He shouldn't feel this way. So sated. It hardly makes sense, from any perspective. There's many things he failed to do. He has much to learn: about himself, about this damned orb, and still, about you. 

But right now, his heart is a battering ram against the constructed walls of his chest, and your fingertips are traveling up — They're grazing the wretched mark as it twists up his nape, his cheek. Your knuckles brush the tangle of dark lines underneath his eye, you cup his face in your hand. And the orb is quiet. It should be screaming with the rest of him. Instead, it chooses silence. 

Magic works in such strange, indecipherable ways. If someone were to tell him long ago that this is how it could work — as though in your presence, it too, is comforted — he doesn't think any part of him would ever believe them. 

His mistake will forever be a part of him. But so will you. 

Gale finds your hand, and settles his on top of your own. He places a kiss onto the bridge of your nose, his palm slides from your hip until his thumb is edging underneath your top, just barely brushing your bare skin underneath. He hesitates, but a kiss of your own placed onto his jaw has him gasping, poised to pull your shirt over your head in the same way his was discarded. 

"May I?" Gale hums, and you swiftly nod in approval. 

"Yes," You reply, "Please." 

The anticipation that settles in your gut is damn near agonizing. You were expecting him to move carefully, but not this slow. 

Gale continues at an apprehensive pace. He stops to collide his lips with yours, when the edge of your top reaches the center of your stomach. With another smooth kiss, mouths parted, breath ragged, he tugs it higher still. You only break apart to bring your arms over your head, and give him a chance to pull it off the rest of the way. 

A kiss onto your ear, and your chest is tight. His lips trail down your nape, and you're reaching up to grab a hold of his hair, your teeth gritting as you choke back a desperate noise. 

Between sighs, your voice is weak, but you still manage, "How long you've sought to what?" 

Gale mumbles a hm into your nape, he squeezes your waist and brushes his thumb over your skin. You know he's coaxing you to continue, but with his mouth on your neck, peppering kisses that wash over you like waves, it's rather hard to follow through. 

Nonetheless, you grip a fistful of brown hair to give yourself leverage. You force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. "You were saying something before. How long have you sought to do what, exactly?" 

One last kiss, and Gale is drawing back to meet your eyes. He holds your chin between two of his fingers. There's a glint in the back of his gaze, causing heat to rush over you, your limbs suddenly growing weak. 

"To take you," He admits, "To not just tell you what wondrous things you've made me feel, but to show you." 

You're sure the wild look in his eyes is mirrored in your own. "Then what are you waiting for? Show me." 

Gale smiles. He gestures with a crooked finger, and instructs with a tone that borders on smug, "Make yourself comfortable. If you could do the honor of hopping up on the desk for me, I'd be glad to get started." 

When you press your palms flat to the solid wood, pushing to lift yourself, his hands maneuver under your thighs, and he helps to plop you on top of his messy wooden desk. He makes room for you, pushing stacks of books to the edge, giving you the space you need to scooch back. His brows are furrowed slightly as he's gathering half-opened scrolls to toss on the floor — from nervousness? Concentration? You aren't entirely sure, but you think he lingers somewhere in between. 

Turning back to you, he innocently allows his palms to feel the shape of your bare sides. He smooths them over the curve of your waist, he caresses the faint indentations of the scars your journey and your previous path left. Then, not so innocently, his fingers are toying with the front of your pants. His thumb is rubbing over the button, while his gaze never leaves yours, his collected expression never once wavering. 

Sitting atop Gale's desk is far from luxurious. You're already shifting, doing your best to relax and meet his eyes, but you tense when he gives you a full once-over. You stifle your nerves. By now, you don't care where he has you, as long as he doesn't make you wait for much longer. 

Your impatience must reflect in your reaction. Gale brings his gaze back to yours, and it somehow seems much softer. 

"I thought you couldn't get any more gorgeous," He whispers, his fingertips drawing shapes you can't recognize into your skin, "But before my eyes, you've so effortlessly proved me wrong. What a fool I am." 

"A very loveable fool, at least," You counter, placing your hands on his shoulders as he glides his gentle palm up your side. The breeze still fluttering through his study tickles your skin, intensifying each faint, terribly warm touch. 

"You're too sweet. I doubt you'd be as composed if you knew the true depth to my foolishness. There is a great deal to address. Too much to fit into one short night, I'm sure." Gale's eyes narrow, adoration at the forefront of his expression, "It's arduous to simply try and think around you, you know. Well, unless one finds themselves thinking about you. You're such an unrelenting plague on my every thought- A good plague, I should add, not the, erm. Sickly sort." 

"Right. A good plague," You repeat. "Go on." 

"You are… impossible not to think of," Gale corrects, "My mind was made to study the intricacies of yours. I often found myself lost, absorbed in the fierceness of my adoration for you. Even at times where I perhaps shouldn't." 

Your eyebrow raises. "Is that so?" 

After staring at you blankly for more than a few moments, he awkwardly clears his throat and continues, "I suppose you're waiting for me to explain? If you asked our unlikely band of companions, I'm sure someone would tell you. They certainly remember how immensely I embarrassed myself with my obviousness, at our reunion and when we were still merely surviving together. But you never knew. I assumed you never knew. You failed to notice when I couldn't stop… staring at you, for lack of a better term." 

"I didn't notice that much." Briefly, your lips press into a line. "I had my suspicions, sure, but I wasn't entirely confident you felt… more, for me. More than the friendship we had already. Or maybe I found the reality of it hard to believe." 

"More barely describes it. My heart would begin to pound each and every time I saw you. Damn thing would tear into my chest like it wanted to come free, especially in the moments where we finished another battle victorious, barely making it out with lives and limbs intact. I'd watch you dust your hands. Wipe the mess of dirt, and some unlucky soul's blood from your face. Your jaw set, your eyes darkened. And I could only think of how much I wanted you." 

Apparently, he's not yet out of surprises. For a man who says so much, he picks the strangest times to keep his mouth shut, because you guarantee if you knew that then, you wouldn't have wasted this much time. No, you would've let him have you then and there, amongst the danger and against your judgment. Perhaps that's exactly what he was picturing. 

You swallow, eyeing him softly, curiously. "Were you just thinking? Or did you do something about those thoughts of me?" 

"Do something?" Gale huffs, letting go of you to return to his familiar habit of speaking with his hands, "As you know, those ideas, no matter how thrilling, could never be permitted to happen- They were forced to be kept in here, exclusively to myself. Lest they prove an unnecessary distraction. Many times, I dreamt of what it might be like to admit the truth. What I would say to you, if my feelings were returned. But I could allow these perspectives to haunt only me, and myself alone." 

He averts his eyes in fleeting nervousness. Tentatively, he mumbles, "When you, when those thoughts threatened to swallow me into their waiting jaws, and I couldn't stop thinking- Dwelling on your voice, your touch. Your beauty. I would… Hold on. Oh." 

You watch realization dawn on his face like the sun rising over the horizon. His eyes go wide and his face goes warm, he pushes away any uncertainty by breathing a small, light chuckle. He holds your side once more, and the anxiousness of his tense hand, fingers flexing, contradicts his supposed self-assurance. 

"Naughty." Gale teases, "Correct me if I've somehow veered onto the path of the mistaken, but I do believe I've discerned what it is you're getting at." 

Seems you can't hide your smirk anymore. Leaning back, your gaze locks with his, and the look on your face proves him right without the need for you to speak. Like the tressym who caught the canary, if he could describe it. 

Still, your head tilts, and you murmur, "Judging by your reaction, I doubt you need to be corrected." 

"Quite the risqué mind you have, don't you? And I thought I was the immodest one." His palm glides from your side, down to your waist, to your hip, "Though, I cannot lie, I am thrilled to indulge you. It's quite an… inappropriate matter to admit. But considering where we were already planning on taking this- Yes. I have done what you are thinking of. Shall I elaborate?" 

"I'd love it if you would." 

As you grasp his hand boldly, your fingers brush his. You guide him to the front of your pants again, until he's clutching the button, fiddling with it, feeling the shape while he tries to find his next words. 

"I was always head over heels for you," Gale explains, popping the button before pulling on the zipper, "It would be pointless to claim otherwise. You were far more than a passing fancy, and I knew I could never forget, nor forgo you. You were my sanctum, my love. I worshiped you. And so I defied my Goddess." 

You lift up when Gale begins to slide your pants from your thighs, until they're left in a pile on the hardwood floor. The surface of his desk feels cool against your bare legs. 

"Of course, you already know that much. My point- Which don't fret, we are getting to," He says, a palm nonchalantly finding your thigh. He caresses your skin, and your heart is in your throat, because his fingers are drifting ever-so slightly closer, "Is that I was restless. There's an explanation as to why I would often avoid you, why I'd slip away once dusk became night. I pushed every potent feeling down, as to not affect our mission, nor our companionship. But you- You are enthralling." 

Careful fingertips skate the inside of your thigh. And as you swallow down fragile gasps, he's only continuing, "Once I was alone, I could no longer stifle the longing I felt. Rest hardly reprieved me. I'd only dream of what we did not have the time to say, nor do. I imagined showing you everything I could give to you, the places I could take you, the marvels I wished for you to see. A snap of my fingers, and we could connect in ways you could not even envisage. We would forget our misfortunes. Our deities. Gods, it was worse when I had to watch someone else chat you up. That night, I'd be practically insatiable." 

Your head is whirling. 

His manner of speaking leaves more up to interpretation than you would have liked, but you know him well enough by now to be more than skilled at reading between the lines. And those words of his can only paint the most addictive picture. 

Gale, trying his best to impress you, to make you smile and keep you safe, only to grow a slight bit jealous when you basked in the attention of someone other than him. Gale, slipping away and "going to bed early" the first chance he got. Holing up in his tent, while you had no idea why. Trying to sleep, only to be awakened over and over again by his enticing dreams of you. Your visage overwhelming his mind, the practiced, straight-laced wizard would finally give into his vices. 

With a palm over his mouth, and a hand down his pants, his noises would be muffled as he works his deft hand over his stiff length. He'd close his eyes, silently scolding himself; he's ridiculous, moronic, pathetic. He should be able to stifle his foolish desires, and yet he couldn't stop, his jaw clenched as he visualizes what he wants, needs to do to you — For once, he'd let his hunger for you consume him. 

Perhaps he isn't as principled as you once thought him to be. 

"I- I felt the same way," You stammer, your throat tightening, making it harder to speak. His fingertips move upward to carefully graze your stomach; his gaze stays on yours, yet you're struggling to maintain eye contact. "It was hard not to daydream about you, whenever we had a moment to rest. My focus was… all over the place. I wanted you to myself. Wanted you to do whatever you wished to me." 

"It seems we are one in the same. You could ask anything of me, and I would consider it done." Gale's thumb hooks around your underwear, but freezes there, not yet moving. His volume drops to barely above a whisper; smooth, and intoxicating, "But I did not always think of you in such sentimental terms. With you as… tempting as you are, and with a wealth of unspoken affections between us, my musings would often wander elsewhere." 

A shudder racks your spine. "Elsewhere?" 

Leaning closer, Gale allows his free hand to steady on your waist. 

You've always thought him and yourself to be equal in prowess. You have fought beside him enough to respect his skill, but also to understand his weaknesses. Yet, in this moment, with his voice echoing against the shell of your ear as a low, sultry hum — If this were a fight, you would've already, most certainly lost. 

"Yes, to the comforts we hadn't yet explored. To the way your voice might sound when it strains. I pictured your hands, purely natural when they are joined with mine. Or perhaps your arms, your legs, tightly wrapped around my shoulders, and my back." 

You feel his palm, caressing your side in slow, simple circles. Your eyelids flutter, your body tremors in the wake of a pleasurable tide. Through his tone, you can practically hear the smile on his lips, "I'm sure you get the idea. I confess, I was not as grounded around you as I may have appeared to be. For saving-the-world's sake, my focus could not wane. Yet, my foolish heart only wanted to hear how you might plead to be given every last inch of me- And I would entrust it all to you. My mind, my body. My soul, if you had any use for it." 

His words have you so distracted, you almost fail to notice he currently has your underwear half-way down your thighs. 

Your gaze meets his. Something you can't read reflected in the back of his eyes, he gazes at you silently, but questioningly. As if he's waiting for your word to continue. Sighing, you force yourself to relax. You ignore the budding warmth that gnaws at your core. You shift, before you lift once more, and with a sly grin, he takes the hint to pull the garment off the rest of the way. 

"I might," You reply, shivering when his palm returns to your thigh, allowing your legs to part slightly when his touch begins to drift, "Maybe I'm a devil in disguise." 

"The sweetest devil in all of the Hells," Gale purrs. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, and his fingers gravitate away; dizzy, your breath hitches. You can't figure out if he's teasing you on purpose, but whatever the bastard is trying, he's certainly succeeding. You tense from your shoulders to your legs, only for his lips on your nape to make you crumble again. 

"Gale-" 

He kisses the column of your neck, and your grip tightens on the desk's edge, nails practically digging into the wooden surface. Gale's fingertips achingly draw circles on the inside of your thigh, his touch coaxing them further apart. Your lungs are overwhelmed. By the lack of air, by the scent of dusk, and his books, and him. 

"Please," You plead; the sound is a sweet melody to his ears, "Touch me." 

You're more than enthralling — You are simply irresistible. 

Gale sighs, and as the held breath leaves him, he swears he feels the center of his chest thrum with such staggering tenderness. 

"You very well may be my demise." 

Bracing a hand on your waist, he hesitates. His brows pinch slightly. His palm feels clammy, almost, and you can feel the heat like untamed fire, radiating from his skin, shining through every pore. Cast upon him is a sheet of silken, fading light. You breathe, in and then out. How can he be so damn handsome? 

"It's been a while since I have done anything of this sort. I do not wish to overstep." Gale brings his fingers to rest underneath your chin — index and middle, tilting your head ever-so gently towards him. "You'll tell me if it gets to be too much? If I ever do something that you have, erm. A less than savory reaction towards?" 

"Of course," You reply simply, but the simplest of words are all he needs to be put at ease. "Do as you like. I trust you." 

And so, he does. His eyes soften, they remind you of dripping, warm honey. Yet, the palm that begins to glide over your chest, softly caressing, is somehow even warmer. 

You're nearly nose to nose, as Gale touches every curve and dip from your chest to your collarbones, admiring the lovely details. It's tender — analytical, in a way — as though he's studying exactly what forms your shape, so he may never forget. The sound of his breathing, along with your own echoes faintly in your ears. You feel revered, like the statue of some sacred God; and from study or by memory, he will learn to sculpt you. 

"Beautiful," Gale murmurs quietly, "You are made of splendor and stardust." 

Your heart intends to deny those words. You once thought differently, you believed ruin and rot were all to compose you. But if he presumes otherwise, if Gale is the one to insist you're so much greater, there isn't a single part of you left to challenge him. You are beautiful. 

At once, your veins buzz, exhilaration rippling through your system at his voice, his touch. His fingertips trail the length of your shoulder. They teasingly trace downward, only to move back up again, despite the twitch of your thighs and the purse of your lips. 

"That night," He breathes, his hand studying the column of your throat, the curve of your jaw, "Where I created the sky for you, I came right to the precipice of confessing. You were beautiful then. As you always are. I felt this… fondness, dwell within me while I looked at you. I wondered if your lips were as plush as they looked. Gods, I wanted to kiss you. Our enemies should have tore a page from your book. You know better than anyone how to reduce a former chosen to such weakness." 

Those addictive fingertips reach back, tracing up your spine, causing your whole body to tingle. From the smallest of touches, from his touch, you're rife with anticipation. You've wanted and waited so much and so long to feel this. Gale's other hand tightens on your side, reassuring while holding you still, and you wouldn't be surprised if he could tell. If he knew what he was doing to you. 

He's missed you, loved you, with every fiber of his doomed being. Now, fondness is more than within him; it's engulfing him whole. 

He swallows thickly. "It would have been delightful to pull you close. To cast aside my misgivings, and instead have you right then and there. Underneath the shimmering lights, while whispering blades of grass tickled our skin. The sight of you laid out underneath me would have been more exquisite than any flourish I am capable of creating, I'm sure. Or, the sight of you above, perhaps? I didn't mind either which way." 

"Gale." 

You mumble his name, in some cross between a hiss, a pout, and a plea. He catches your eyes with a smile. 

More than you might think, he has you figured out. The look you give him whenever he speaks: warm and soft-eyed, breath hitched, expression blissfully entranced. You've mentioned your not-so subtle weakness for his voice before. You love hearing him talk like this, don't you? 

"You're sweet, but sometimes-" You choke on a gasp, shuddering once his hand is roaming down, down. This time, brushing your stomach, your hip, your thigh. "Sometimes, I really just want you to kiss me." 

Perhaps you could listen to him forever, but he's no fool. Any request of yours he'd be happy to oblige. Especially this one. 

"Come here, then," He says, already closing the distance, "You merely have to ask." 

A hand holding your jaw, Gale pulls you in, his head tilting until you collide in a soft mess of lips and tongue. He blindly finds your thigh, gently pushing them apart; he squeezes your plush flesh, before he kisses you harder. 

Together, when you both pull apart to breathe, he meets your gaze: a question, and permission. You don't look away. Your gasps grow sharper as his touch moves closer, your nerves strung tight, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. 

The ends of his fingers brush your slick, waiting entrance, and you whine. 

"Oh, you're… Wow," Gale sighs out. You swear with the way he sounds, he's practically in disbelief. He drags the digits up, getting them drenched and filthy in your mess of arousal, his fingertips applying slight pressure when they reach your swollen clit. You tense, swallowing down a whimper. His fingers glisten in the dying light, you watch him very obviously glance down once he drags them away. Pulling them apart, he admires the string of glossy slickness that clings in between them. 

"And I've barely just begun." He looks back to you, breathing the slightest huff, "I knew you- Well, I thought you felt strongly about me. As strongly as I feel about you. If I knew I was capable of doing this to you, of compelling you to be this… desperate, I would have divulged how I felt a great deal sooner." 

Like he's one to talk. Your affections go both ways — He made that clear when he was a stiff mess in his pants, just from you kissing him. 

Your chest heaves with your gasps, but only heaves harder once his touch leaves. His knuckles tense, his hand hovering inches away from you, and he looks over your face with brief apprehension. Right now, you can't have any of it. 

"What do you need?" Gale asks, tone smooth, low. 

"Your… Your fingers-" 

"And you need them where, to be exact? They are capable of bringing a great number of things into fruition. To have them inside of you, filling you- Is that what you're after?"

"Yes," Your voice wobbles to the edge of cracking, and you follow along, forcing yourself to get more specific, "Need them inside. Please, don't make me wait." 

He's never heard you beg before. Never thought you could get so needy, so flushed. For him, you're begging for him. 

During the path of your previous journey, your polite requests of him here and there were more than enough to get him ecstatic. This, though? He thinks he might crave to hear you plead your lovely desires for the rest of his existence. 

The same hand you've watched cast spells drifts back to you, between your legs. Gale's fingers, dexterous as they handle a fragile flicker of light in between them, masterful as they form the shape for another incantation. Delicately holding a thin quill pen, turning the pages of a worn book, crooking up to summon a hidden tome, or a detailed projection — His fingers begin to ease inside you, and all you can do is bite your tongue, and grip the edge of his desk like your life depends on it. 

They feel thicker than they look. You weren't expecting to be so full, even when they aren't entirely in, nor were you thinking he'd go this slowly. With how soaked you are, with how much you've needed him, you know his fingers — ring, and middle — would press inside you so simply, if that's what he was aiming for. They'd slide all the way in, fill you down to his knuckles, until your needy cunt is fluttering around him; you're filthy, and yet, despite the thoughts you have bouncing around in your brain, you hardly feel an ounce of shame. 

Instead though, different from what you were imagining, he takes his time. He savors this, savors you, delighting in your pretty expression, and the delicious moan you let go of as his fingers fill you just half-way. Half-way, not sinking fully in. The damn wizard is teasing you. He's dragging both digits out before they've truly given you what you wanted, leaving you disappointed once they slip away. 

As a small mercy, his fingertips move to circle your clit with the faintest touch. Right then, the entirety of you burns red-hot, impossibly sensitive. It's so much, and not enough at the same time. If he doesn't continue, you think you might cry. 

"I was intending to take things patiently, but I am more than willing to compromise," Gale suddenly murmurs, out of breath, his gasps betraying the levelness he tries to keep to his words. Clearly, this is affecting him just as much as it may be affecting you. His free hand tenses on your waist, and he drawls, "Tell me if it becomes too much. Or if you're in need of more." 

Like clockwork, you don't even wait for him to take another breath in. "More, Gale." 

He chuckles. Actually chuckles, in spite of any nervousness — and when the sound alone makes you shiver, a soft gasp in pleasure leaving your lips, you know you're absolutely done for. 

"Eager little thing." There's enough adoration in his words to devour and get drunk off of, "No matter, I'd already planned to give you everything." 

Your hand on the desk's edge clenches, and as though he knows without the need to see, Gale moves to place his palm over yours. His touch brushes your knuckles, his hand is effortlessly warm. His fingertips press to your waiting entrance; you breathe a sigh of approval, before he's working to slide them back inside you. 

They ease into your warm cunt deeper, nice and easy. As far as they'll go, until you're sufficiently full, with his palm lightly pressing against your pelvis, his knuckles barely grazing you. Gale's expression turns soft, washed over in utter lust. He mumbles the slightest swear under his breath that you almost don't catch, paired with a tender, low, That's it. 

And fuck, you're already struggling to handle this, but to hear him praise you? 

When he'd do so before, you were affected quite the same. He'd give you an earnest Excellent job! whenever you cracked another lock, or a Well done, when you downed a rather difficult foe. It was impossible not to dwell on his words, as ridiculous as you often felt. He would affectionately pat your shoulder, or place a hand on the small of your back when he was especially proud of you. You'd feel a chill run up your spine, just from that. A particularly shameful chill. 

Now though, like this? When his voice is a whole octave lower, and noticeably sultrier; when he's got two of his fingers nestled deep inside you, and his pretty gaze on yours, hair out of place as it gets stuck to his sweaty forehead — Gods help you, if he decides to say anything more. Knowing him, he will. 

He's still smiling while he stares at you, a look that speaks in pure adoration. And no matter how overwhelming, no matter the shivers that surge through your veins at the thought, or the intense pounding of your heart, you want him to speak. He's fucking right, his voice is your weakness. You want to hear all he's longed to tell you, no details spared. 

He's lucky you haven't melted into a puddle by now. Your limbs are weak, you feel like you might have. His poor scrolls. There's no doubt you're making a mess, but puddle-you would have left his desk and its important contents in shambles. 

Gale languidly pumps his fingers into you, in and then out, and your teeth grit at the sloppy noise they create. The pace he sets is slow, true to his earlier word. Ecstasy buds in your core at every draw back, and firm press in. Yet, the devotion, the listlessness to it — You're put on a pedestal right between needing less, and wanting more. It's perfectly agonizing. 

It isn't enough, you need just a sliver more of what he's not providing. But his slow, meticulous movement has you reeling. His thick fingers fuck you methodically, working you up to right where he wants you, and not an inch more. It feels like you might shatter in his arms, his hands, and he would be the one to put you back together. 

"Please," You're murmuring, your back arching, your eyes deep and hazy, utterly enchanting, "I need you- need you not to stop, fucking please." 

You make his focus shift in a mere instant. Holding onto you tighter, his fingers curl on the next press in, nudging oh-so perfectly against where you're oh-so sensitive. You're a mess, but he loves it; he relishes in admiring this lovely, desperate side to you. You practically cry out, your body tensing beneath his touch, your eyes screwing shut. And Gale, ever attentive, perpetually ambitious, crooks his dexterous fingers inside you again in a draw for more, until you're a gasping, trembling mess.

"You sound wonderful. Just perfect. Believe me, I want to stop as much as you may want to. Which, with regards to your greedy form of begging, would surely be not at all," Gale whispers, in a delicate hum. His words fill your head like clouds. "I have waited too long for this. I have wanted you far too greatly to stop now, and I do not plan to." 

You have his fingers soaked, his palm and his wrist filthy, practically dripping with your messy arousal. Between stifled whines and struggles for air, you utter his name. He falters for a moment. Ignoring his slacks growing tight and uncomfortable around him, he takes in an overly controlled breath. 

"Don't try to silence yourself," He says, "I want to hear everything." 

Your thighs quiver. They threaten to close around his arm, while precise fingers bully your sweet spot; you couldn't hold your moans for him back, not even if you were trying to. 

You toss your head back with a whine, loud and unabashed, and Gale offers your hand a gentle squeeze. His breathing is sharp, loud enough to hear, to feel as a fan of warmth against your chest and neck. The heat between you builds to something unbearable. Each thrust of his fingers is relentless: they draw gasps from you that echo in the walls of his study, your lungs aching raw. You are wet and warm and impossibly soft around both digits, you'll feel much softer and wetter around him. And you're simply stunning, from the top of your head, to the ends of your toes. Gorgeous, in a way he'll try his damndest to deserve. 

To hold you until the stars give out, to never have to let you go would be a dream made real. 

Engrossed in giving you what you need, he admires the softness present on your features when you prop yourself back up. Your chest heaves, your bottom lip trembling. He's been so focused on you, he hardly notices you've already shifted. 

You reach forward, your arm is shaky, faint gasps still slipping past your lips as his fingers massage that addictive spot deep within you. Your palm presses to his chest. Only then does he realize how quick his heart's been beating, and how strongly you've been affecting him. 

If you were a drug, or a form of charming magic perhaps, you'd be the most potent there is. Your hand glides down, gaze stuck on his — gazes locked on each other — and he lets you. He lets you move your palm down to a near dangerous degree; he shifts forward and closer, in fact, to simplify your reach. 

Impulsive, you allow your palm to travel between his legs before you've given it a second thought. You feel the firm outline of his cock, shamelessly tenting his pants, and Gale's brows pinch. He shudders, sighing softly, but he doesn't hold back from leaning into your touch. A small movement has his clothed length grinding against your palm; pure, exquisite friction. Fortunately, swarmed by your own desperations, you are wasting no time giving him more. 

For the first time since he began, or maybe for the first time ever, Gale's resolve crumbles. Your hand slips into his pants, wrapping around his hard, silky length, and he groans, the sound sweet enough to incite a heady pulse between your legs. He braces his free hand on the desk to keep steady, and his pace turns frantic as his head dips, strands of hair in his face, his fingers clumsily pistoning into you. 

He's warm in your palm, slick with dripping precum that dirties the smooth fabric of his briefs; so distinctly heavy, you start to feel dizzy, overwhelmed by a rush of blood to your head. 

"Shit," Gale swears under his breath when you grip him, then pump him, his eyelids heavy like he's woozy. Your reaction is immediate and visceral, pleasure blazing in your core, your chest heaving with quickened whines. 

His jaw clenches instinctually, your palm hurriedly swiping over his sensitive, weeping tip. It sends flurries of pleasure over him, and makes every touch much slicker, much wetter. The damp squelch made by the twists of your hand is nearly as filthy as the echo of his fingers plunging into you. 

He chokes on a moan, and he hurriedly murmurs, "Your touch is… It is unlike anything I have ever felt before, it's- oh- indescribable…" 

You're panting, your hand slowing down, the fragility and newfound pitch to his voice pooling heat in your gut, "Should I stop?" 

"No, for the love of every God still left watching over us," Gale reaches up, shakily tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips brush your skin with potent electricity, before he sets his palm back down on the desk, close enough to have your thumbs touch. "Absolutely do not stop." 

There's conviction in his voice; it makes your heart pound, and subsequently tremble. 

The way you stroke him is messy and quick, frantic to make up for the lack of space the confines of his slacks provide. Your brain is scrambled from his voice, his fingers: easing inside you, and then crooking, punching whines from you each time they perfectly nudge your sweet spot. You feel known, loved, as he studies what you need — to give it to you here, and countless times over. 

Between your sins and his, the room is drowned in the echoes of gasps, whines. In wet noises that sound disgustingly lewd when they reach your ears, sending sparks twisting up your back. Gale falls forward, his forehead rests softly against yours. He finds the curve of your waist, gripping you tight; a touch that brands, that makes you pliable. His warm hand on your bare skin is a wave of molten comfort, washing deep into your bones. 

"Back then," You mumble breathlessly, beginning a tangent of your own, "I wanted so badly to tell you how I felt. I w-wanted, needed you, I would have given up anything to be close to you. I thought of… of trying to stay quiet in your little tent, trying to make sure no-one else would hear us. You'd whisper in my ear that we have to be quiet, and cover my mouth with your palm while you rocked into me…" 

Gale stutters. He throbs, underneath your touch, and lets go of a long, shaking breath. He rolls his hips into your grip just barely, chasing another ray of pleasure. 

"Even a rudimentary spell could've… hah, solved that problem easily," He grits out, the bridge of his nose in a focused knot, "But I'm glad we weren't so hasty. This moment we have now, it is kept solely to ourselves. If we-" A groan, a sigh, "Had to account for unnecessary company, I would never have known how lovely you sound when you're pleading my name."  

"Fuck- Gale…" 

You moan in unison, syncing your breathing and the skip of your heartbeats. In the midst of your own pulse in your ears — your head swirling, drunk on him — you are freeing his cock from his slacks, making him inhale a hiss as the room's cold air hits his length. Your palm strokes all of him, from base to head: tenderly, slowly, agonizingly. He trembles, and his thumb brushes your clit while his fingers stay sheathed inside. Desire takes over what remains of you, as though his touch itself is made from magic. 

"I wanted to- I-" It's difficult to talk now; his thumb rubs slow circles onto your sensitive clit, and tension grips you tight, taut as deep in your core as his fingers reach. "I wanted to kiss you, feel you, taste you. Sometimes, I wished we could just forget everything and- Oh, Gods, I needed you, Gale. I knew I was foolish and greedy, but I couldn't lose you. I didn't want anything to ever happen to you, I love you. Just you, just as you are." 

Just as you are. 

More than anything he's once known, stronger than everything he's ever felt, those words send him spiraling into a hopeless, tender oblivion. 

You won't have to fear losing him. Not ever again. 

Despite the slight parting of his lips, he can't say anything more; he can only exhale in warm, heady pleasure, and sway forward to collapse into you. Your palm, working over his cock with soft, steady strokes, has him hurtling close to the edge with no reprieve in sight. His forehead leans into the curve of your nape, breath hot on your skin, and he can barely manage to think, let alone control the unsteady pace of his fingers; fucking into you desperately and clumsily, sending pleasure spiraling through your system. 

But your voice — Chiming in his ears, echoing with the earnestness of bells, you bring every devoted component of his attention right back to you. 

"Please," You beg, your tone quiet, on the verge of shattering like glass. Gale moves his palm to hold the small of your back as a slight comforting gesture, a silent reminder that he has you, and you feel the petals of your heart unfurl, and unwind. 

"I'm right there," You're gasping, "I'm- ah, please…" 

He can't contain himself, sweat beading at his chest and forehead as he sloppily thrusts into your now-loose grip. Every slow, choppy buck of his hips leaves him more overwhelmed. You have your head tipped back, as you jerk him off hurriedly, choking on your own moans. Euphoric flames lap at your gut, your limbs — Gale peppers your nape in haphazard kisses, and all it takes is one more touch, three more words. 

"I love you," His murmur rolls in vibrations against your kiss-sensitive nape; you melt, your back slumps. There's an intensity to his tone, a thickness to his accent and a slur between the syllables. You nearly drown him out with your own chants of his name. 

"My sweetheart," He falters, "My love- You feel perfect, and I- I'm so close- I've got you, let go, let go with me-" 

You flutter around his fingers, and he stammers with words left unsaid, murmuring faint recitations of your name as you both reach the crescendo. Frantic jerks of your palm and feverish swipes of his thumb on your clit, his touch palpable with so much love you can practically feel it — and you're slamming over the edge together. 

Gale's breathing comes from weary, bruised lungs. You feel him twitch, then pulse, and messes of moans and gasps resound onto your neck as he spills into your hand. The mess drips over your palm, coating your fingers. Your heart pounds against your chest like a drum, and the pleasant disaster of your release washes over your body — making you tense and cry out, your legs quivering as you cum for him — before setting you down, shakily and slowly. 

You can hardly think by the end of it. The aftershocks that grip you are unlike anything you've ever felt before. Finding your high while thinking of him pales in comparison to cumming for him, on his fingers. 

Neither you, nor him can speak. When Gale finally pulls apart from you, dragging his fingers from your warmth and stumbling to his feet, what makes up your tangled thoughts is still very much fuzzy. You're both panting hard; him, more than you are, perhaps. Your thighs are tense and sore, you have to force them to relax to ease some of the strain. 

Through heavy eyelids, you watch him run a palm over his face. He massages his temple, and lets go of a deep, weighted breath. The way he looks at you then, gaze settled on yours, could be enough to entrance you, all on its own. 

"Beautiful." He hums simply. His voice is still rough at the edges, quiet and strained. You aren't sure if it's a description, or a term of endearment; maybe both, you figure, so you can enjoy a taste of each. 

He reaches up to hold your jaw, his touch ever soft. You're lost for a moment. You catch your breath along with him, and feel what remains of the world around you fade away. 

"I believe I was meant to love you," He says, so earnest, his faith itself makes you shake. "You are an irrevocable destiny. My destiny." 

You offer him a smile that roots into him from the inside-out. And when he drifts forwards to kiss you at last, pulled in your direction like a fish on a line — Your lips press to his, and in his chest, arises a glow. 

This shared kiss is long, deep, and effortless. It is a waltz you both know how to follow, and yet, you lose your footing just the same. He pulls you close with an arm around your back, and you curl into his familiar touch. In turn, you clutch him tighter, kiss him harder, with your palm on his shoulder and a hand tangled in messy locks of brown hair. 

You both breathe a sigh once you've slowly pulled apart. Gale holds your chin, and speaks softly, the words akin to a secret prayer. 

"I am yours. Now, and for the eternities of lifetimes that might await us after this one." His expression deepens, and his thumb brushes your lips, carefully but simply, "I truly do love you." 

I love you. Those words still feel as soft as they are strange. They're all you've ever wanted though, natural on the tongue, despite how unrelentingly they shake you. 

Perhaps you really were meant for this, just as he believes. In this life, and in the lifetimes to follow, you will find and embrace one another. 

Standing up straight, he stretches, fixing his slacks before rolling his shoulders back. Your gaze flickers over his shape, and then down. Tenderness makes way to bristles of embarrassment, and it's hard to continue biting your tongue. Between the both of you, you've made quite the mess. Reminders of what transpired hit you like a bucket of bricks. Your heartbeat particularly spikes at the droplets of milky white that dirty the desk's smooth surface, and the flesh of your thighs. 

Gale seems to notice your staring. 

"Apologies," He clears his throat so loud the sound practically bounces around the room. His tone carries a weight of lightheartedness, and you can't explain how nice it is to hear. It lightens the load on your own shoulders, in some way. "I did not suspect I was… so pent-up. Are you alright?" 

"I'm alright," You resound, inhaling slowly, and feeling the buzz in your chest begin to settle as a result. "I feel great, honestly. How about you? Tired yet?" 

"Oh, I am anything but. Feels like I pissed off some impudent mage, and as punishment they set my nerves aflame," Gale shakes out his sweaty palms, then idly flexes his fingers, "Not any sort of punishment I've ever heard of, but I would certainly commend their creativity. It will take more than that to tire me out, I assure you. Unless you, yourself are tired, of course. In which case, I would be glad to assist in your relaxation." 

"Thank you, but there's no need. I'm not tired yet either." You shuffle closer so you can wrap your arms around him, and your hand promptly tangles in his hair, while the other brushes the back of his neck, fingertips tracing down to the space between his shoulder blades. You swear you feel him shiver. "C'mere. I haven't had near enough of you." 

"Is that so?" Gale smiles. He closes the fraction of distance between you, and steadies a hand on your jaw. "I'm pleased to say the feeling is mutual." 

This time, the kiss he plants to your lips reminds you of falling. Falling, with no worry of hitting the ground. Just infinitely drifting through a cloudless sky, while you helplessly listen to the race of your pulse in your eardrums. And as quickly as he sends you careening towards the earth, he's grounding you, with a kiss to your throat that sets your senses alight. 

His lips hover there for longer than they need to, breathing warmth onto your neck, until you reward his efforts with the sweetest of sighs. Then, his mouth trails kisses from your collarbone to your shoulder. His hand holds your side when you sway, helping to keep you steady. 

It's as though your soul is helplessly detached from your own body. The growing shadows in his quaint study envelop your vision, and cradle you in their looming embrace. You imagine the pale moon, the shimmering stars, soon to bathe you in their faint light. But for now, it's just the two of you, pleasantly alone, in the center of his universe. Truthfully, your soul is bound to him. Gale's hands, and beating heart. 

Warmly, he mutters against your shoulder, a squeeze of your side blended with slightly muffled words, "Are you comfortable?" 

"Mhmm," You nod, and you tilt your head opposite as he moves to press kisses to the other side of your nape, "We can move- If that's what you want." 

"What I want is to have you wherever it is you prefer." Placing a final small kiss to the side of your neck, he then pulls back, meeting your pretty gaze with an expression that sparkles. "My bedroom is always an option. Traditional, yes, but surely comfortable. Continuing here would be most pleasant as well. Most exciting. The choice is left up to you, although," He breathes a slight laugh, "I suppose I may picture this the next few times I am sitting here working. Might pose a slight problem to my future productivity." 

You huff, half-rolling your eyes. You playfully squeeze his shoulders, teasing palms caressing his warm skin, "In that case, I want you nowhere else but here." 

Gale smirks, his expression enveloped in unmistakable tenderness, but this time, he holds his tongue. He grasps your wrists, and when your palms follow his lead to slip from his shoulders, he is taking your hands into his. He's shifting, kneeling, sinking down in front of you until your heart is left a shaken and stuck mess inside your throat. 

"Look at me." 

Oh. You didn't notice you were starting to glance away, avoiding his eyes while you attempt to ignore the warmth burning over your face. You tear one of your hands away from his to grip the edge of the desk, steadying yourself. Hesitantly, your gaze flickers back to his own — just in time to watch Gale press a kiss to your knuckles. 

He looks at you as though you are devastation, devotion, in the softest, mortal form. Twilight shimmers in the details of his silhouette: the features of his face, the silver in his hair, and his shiny, metal earring. You once thought the symbol hanging from his ear to be some solemn, self-imposed reminder. Instead, you've grown to realize it is spite, pure and fierce. Because after everything, he is still tenderly, maddeningly alive. 

"You will not lose me, not ever, not for a moment," He says gently, squeezing your hand, resoluteness in the back of his gaze. "I promise you. I want for nothing, when you are at my side. Nothing but the privilege of seeing you smile, which I will try my very hardest to earn. No matter what we may face, perils or strife, anything that is left to try and stand in our way, we will brave it- We will defy it. And we will do so together. Just as we once did." 

Gale allows his thumb to brush over your knuckles before he lets your hand go. You eye him silently, awestricken, your chest tight and your mouth useless. Perhaps it is your silence that prompts him to gaze at you smugly, place his palms on your thighs, and shift closer until his head is inches away from dipping between your legs. 

"Now, let me have you." Voice low, he breathes the words loud enough for only you to hear, "Let me cherish you, as I have always longed to, and as you have always deserved." 

So foolish. He does have you, he has held every part of you from the moment you and him collided. 

You take a breath, deep and slow. "Then have me." 

Reaching forward, you knot a hand in his hair as encouragement. Gale holds your waist, smirking slightly, and he waits, lingering, or perhaps teasing you. When your fingers tighten on his hair and you let go of a quickened, impatient huff, the desperate look on your face causing his heart to skip, only then does he finally move. He leans close, pressing a kiss to your stomach that brims with tingling electricity. 

"Gale-" And you sigh, you melt, "I love you, I love you so much-" 

His brows knot, softness in his expression, and he begins to adore your skin with his lips. He plants messy kisses from your navel, down. When he moves from your hips to your legs, tenderness turns to hunger. His kisses are warmer, blessed onto your inner thighs as he leaves faint bites, along with soft brushes of the tongue; not enough to mark, just enough to feel. Enough to make you tremble at the subtle nip of teeth, and shake from the heat of his steady breaths on your skin. 

Both palms find your thighs to gently coax them apart. Nervousness prickles up your spine, heightened by the warmth in your gut, and by the heaviness in Gale's eyes as he looks up at you. But when he leans close, at the first swipe of his tongue over your waiting cunt — Everything melts away to nothing but sharp, pure pleasure. 

Your fingers grip his hair so tight you think you might yank some strands out. You're panting, and he isn't stopping; each little lap of his tongue makes you shake, already a whining mess, echoing the sweetest noises for him. You only make him want to hear more. 

He wants you crying happy tears for him, wants you to forget your hardships as you fall to pieces on his mouth; but for now, he'll have patience. Slight, teasing flicks of his tongue are enough to start with. Judging by the intensity of your grip on his hair, and the way your chest heaves from the force of loud, labored breathing, he isn't sure you can handle much more, despite how terribly you make him want to give it to you. You deserve all you could ever need. 

You deserve to be happy, safe, loved. He won't let you be marked by more scars. You're precious to him, more precious than anything he has once held, and simultaneously, you are damn near impossible to resist. 

From between both your thighs, he can't tear his gaze away from you above him: your pretty face, consumed by ecstasy and impatience. You, on the other hand, can barely take the way he looks at you with such tenderness, and yet, confidence. Like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. 

Gale swipes the flat length of his tongue over your entrance, then flicks the tip against your clit, and the moan you let fall from your lips captivates the entirety of his muddled mind. He huffs something of a laugh, and pulls back to give you a small chance to breathe. 

"Remarkably sweet, and ravishingly sensitive." The sultry hum to his tone settles a decadent sensation between your ribs: pleasure, and an encompassing anticipation. His lips are already wet and glistening. "You were just meant to be devoured." 

Your heart shudders, and your breath hitches. Gale grips you by your sides, his gentle touch smoothing over your skin. His hair in his face is a mess you've made. You shakily push the strands back, and as your fingers brush close to his scalp, the only signs he's affected are the shuddery inhale he takes, and the devotion that shines in the back of his pupils. 

"Spread your legs apart a little further, for me," He mumbles. When you oblige, he hums the smallest form of praise, the faintest, Very good. Then, his mouth is giving you no room for respite. 

You whimper, watching his honeyed gaze on yours go soft, before his eyes flutter shut. His hands on your sides grip you tighter, and with swipes of his tongue, he thoroughly tastes your entrance. He was right; you are sensitive. Especially when he buries his face in your cunt, every sickeningly slow lap of his tongue feeling charged, ripe with exhilarating arousal. 

When you tense, panting harder with a swallow, he squeezes your side, and he stops. He huffs in short breaths centimeters away from you. Your shoulders slowly go slack. You press both hands to the edge of the desk and hold on tight, trying to remain steady. He only dives in again once your sighs have settled, and this time, he's licking, then sucking. The sound is sloppy, terribly lewd, as he presses his lips to you and sucks softly on your clit. Infatuation surges through your veins so fast, you begin to feel yourself go numb. 

He licks a steady stripe, groaning quietly. His facial hair scratches the inside of your thighs with such bitter sweetness. He's moving one palm down to your thigh, caressing before lifting. Your leg settles comfortably onto his shoulder, and he's pressing closer, he's ever-so carefully easing his tongue inside you. It's warm, meticulous; the attention there, the sensation of being so barely filled, stretched around the end of his tongue — It makes your head spin with ferocity. 

Those sensations melt to expectancy, to a dwindling heat as he draws back; for only a moment, thankfully. He swallows, his words muffled when he mutters against your eager cunt, "You taste divine." 

On his tongue, he's sure you're the sweetest thing he's ever known. Saccharine like the stars, akin to the smooth velvet wine he remembers sampling in Calimshan. But perhaps, it's even sweeter to have you like this, to know he's the only one who can do this to you. Your limbs are trembling for him. It's his tongue you're a mess on, his voice and his touch to make you this way. 

He should never have doubted himself. If he could rewind the clock just once, it wouldn't be to change past wrongs, nor would it be to rid his chest from the orb, or abandon it entirely. He would have gone without meeting you then, still just a reckless wizard in the cold palm of his Goddesses hand. 

Rather, he would go back and tell you how he felt, he'd tell you everything — He'd have you accompany him to Waterdeep well before his proposition at your reunion, and he wouldn't have held back the words on his tongue. He doesn't want to leave you, he loves you; he'd watch your expression change, your hands squeezing his when he grabs them tight. And he knows he would kiss you right then, in the same way he already has. 

I've fallen for you he was waiting to whisper, when this universe seemed to contain just the two of you. He wanted to kiss you so softly when you smiled at him during your late-night talks, closing the inches of distance between you to feel your smile on his lips instead. He'd kiss you so desperately when you found yourselves on the edge of death, both hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs smearing blood onto your skin, because even then, all he could fathom was how deeply he adored you. 

As long as he kept you safe, he didn't need more. He no longer wished for godhood. He could greet the end with no regret — but to have lived, to be able to persist in this life at your side means the world itself to him. 

It will take a long while to make up for lost time. Though maybe, he can start here. His mouth can do more than recite poems and confessions. Much more. 

In demonstration, Gale leans into you. He relishes in the way you shake under his hold, once the practiced end of his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. He has to hold you steady, gripping tight while he kisses your clit, your thighs, and then devours you with sloppy kisses to your cunt: open-mouthed, a mess of soft sucks and rich groans into you. His lips brush every sensitive inch, shaping you as you dissolve to pliancy, like soft clay in his careful hands. 

"Feels good-" You try to mumble, biting the words; you've never felt anything this addicting. Your voice carries a noticeable shake, one you just can't swallow down, "Feels so fucking good…" 

"Not good enough to render you speechless," Gale hums against you, lust weaving through his tone. You'd almost think he was talking to himself, if it wasn't for the way he briefly looks at you, eyelids heavy, pupils blown-out. "Suppose I ought to continue." 

His mouth lavishes your cunt once more, firm sucks on your clit paired with swipes of his tongue that gently tease your needy entrance — You grip the desk tight, moving your hand to grab a fistful of his hair instead. You bite down so hard on your lip you think it might bleed. 

You can't focus, you feel weightless, his words won't leave you as much as his mouth continues to devour you. His sultry voice, his soft expressions of love; how long has he waited for this? How fiercely has he wanted you, wanted to tell you the fondness he kept captive inside? How long has he imagined pleasuring you on his tongue, until all you can manage to plead is his name? 

For longer than you were first picturing, surely. There's desperation to the new pace he's set, a wild yearning, as Gale allows his composure to slip and pleasures you with every single breath. His palm runs over the warm underside of your thigh when it twitches on his shoulder. He's relentless, even when you grip his hair so tightly it must hurt, whimpering for him and his mouth in unintelligible murmurs. 

He gives you more without the need for you to ask. He's moaning into you in turn, his tongue pressing in to taste you. And your taste is electrifying. The whine you give him is one he wishes to memorize. He feels he may yearn for this — to taste you, to have you — until the universe converges to a collapse, with all Nine Hells finally frozen over. 

Speechless, that's how he wants you, and if he continues like this, he might make good on such an objective. Ironic. For as much as he's spoken, you're the one asked to stay voiceless. You doubt he truly wants you quiet. Every moan you make at the lap of his tongue, or the brush of his lips, draws a staggered sigh from him in response. 

At least, considering how much the bastard spends talking, of course he's good with his mouth. 

He mumbles something inaudible against you, a mess where your name is the only thing you make out. His voice echoes in vibrations right onto your clit, and you're gasping, your thighs trembling. They practically close around his head, but he pushes them back apart to make room; his one hand on your thigh, the other on your waist. 

The moment you've relaxed, legs spread wide for him, he's grabbing your sides so tight it makes you go stiff in surprise. He's pulling you in, he's giving you more of his mouth, and you're rocking. You're grinding onto his tongue without forethought, focused only on the bliss that rips through your body and intensifies in your core. 

You barely catch the way his eyes flutter when you roll into him. He begins to guide your movements with his grip on your waist, pulling you closer while twirling his tongue, allowing you to use his mouth as you desire. 

And you do. You fuck yourself on his mouth and tongue between his hurried kisses, his muffled groans muttered against you. Until your high is frantically splintering towards you, your fingers flexing in his hair, your throat sore and muscles even tenser. 

"Gale," You can't get out anything but his name, lungs overtaken by gasps, the edge of your voice sore from cries of pleasure, "I-" 

You don't tell him you're there. You couldn't manage the words, but with the way he hums in approval against you, squeezing your waist in silent persuasion, his tongue focusing on your clit with tender precision — You suspect he knows, and he wants, needs you to cum for him. With your heart beating fast in your chest and your ears, the rope snaps, and you're cumming on his mouth, while his name is a stuttered mantra on your lips. 

Your thighs can't help but tense, brushing his face and smothering him; you pulse on his tongue, your grinds against him growing erratic, desperate. Everything in your body is swallowed by rocky waves, a sense of pleasure in your chest and your head and your core imploding with blistering heat. Your voice breaks. You only settle when you've fully succumbed, drowning in the aftershocks. 

After your eyes have slowly opened, and your fuzzy vision has returned, you notice you're not the only one struggling to breathe. You feel it first: the brief tickle of his warm breath on your thighs, his lips barely brushing against your skin. You hear him exhale, long but shaky: a perfectly enticing sound. 

Gale pulls apart from you while he huffs, he wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His face is flushed, lips parted, chest heaving. But fuck, he's smiling, grinning like you've never seen before, earnestly and so in love. Your heartbeat practically skips. 

You shouldn't be surprised that the first thing he does upon rising to unsteady feet is brace a hand on the desk, grasp your chin between his fingers, and kiss you. Your shoulders slump, and as you're kissing him back, you're breathing a soft exhale into his mouth. He drags you in as close as he can get you, leaving you practically smushed against his chest. Still, your heart begins to sing. Familiar feelings burn to life once more as his mouth parts, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

When you separate, it's agonizingly slowly. It's just enough for him to gaze into your eyes, to see you melt, simply from the way he looks at you. Together, you remain deadlocked for a moment, catching your breath without a word. His warm eyes and soft lips are effortlessly enticing; it takes every ounce of your remaining strength to resist kissing him again, surely crumbling the composure you've worked so hard to restore. He drifts back, a complacent look on his face. His fingers stay delicately grasping your chin. 

You're going to break the silence before he can, and you'll get straight to the point. 

"I need-" You swallow, resisting the urge to glance away from him no matter how flustered you've become. He can have your composure, he can have every damn part of you — "I need more. I need you. Please." 

Gale's spine tingles with an almost-shudder. He can't resist guiding you forward by your jaw, until his lips are able to kiss the top of your head. A kiss that drips with meaningful, aching adoration. Your heart stirs, and you let go of the breath you were holding. 

"Dearest," He coos quietly, a tender edge to his voice, like a knife that twists and caresses your ribs, "You will be given all you need. Perhaps even more." 

His fingertips skate your shoulders, before his palm presses to your chest. He kisses your cheek, and against your ear, he gives the faintest muttered instruction: Lay back. You were already doing so before the command, but his words lead you to follow the slight push of his palm, until you're settling with your back hitting the desk. 

The hardwood is cool against your skin, and he shoves some books aside to give you space to rest your head. He's leaning down with you, pressing a final kiss to your nape once you're stable. As Gale pulls back, coming into view above you, heat surges through your veins. Your nerves thrum with something more than love. Something more like sanctity. 

Sweat coats both your bodies in a glimmering sheen. Gale's hair is out of place, shadows flicker over his features but pay special attention to the grooved, dark scar on his chest. The sun has long since finished its descent, the last flecks of light vanishing to nothingness. You don't notice how dark it has truly become until Gale provides a solution with words under his breath, and a snap of his fingers. 

Effortlessly, light dances in your vision, the candles that decorate his study coming to life. His lips twitch into a smirk. His hand finds your side, feeling your shape. 

It's just the two of you, now and hopefully always, in his favorite corner of the world. On his damn desk, to make matters more tantalizing. The same desk he'd spend hours alone at, reading or planning lessons, trying not to let his mind wander to you instead. And you, speaking of. You, bathed in faint light, sprawled out beneath him like poetry on a page — Without a doubt, you are gorgeous. To the point of addiction. 

"There you are," He murmurs at last, while his thumb draws circles on your side. The lighting is still dim and moody, but this feels as though it is the first time he's truly been able to see you. To see all of you. He drinks you in, admiring your shape, your marks, your scars. The details that define you, everything he loves. 

He allows his gaze to drag down, and then up, back to your eyes. You're shuffling out of nervousness, but his warm touch on your skin encourages you to relax. 

"Beautiful, aren't you? Each time I look at you, I feel my love burn ever brighter. You are the sun. A warm, incandescent sun. Most worthy of worship. Basking in the heat of my affections, I would gladly allow you to reduce me to cinders." Reaching out to you, Gale's fingers brush your cheek, before he stops. He suddenly lets go of a sigh so heavy it makes his shoulders turn slack. "My apologies. I'm chattering on again. Such a habit is proving challenging to break." 

"Don't apologize," You counter, and you bring your hand to his own. Your fingertips brush his, you press his palm to your cheek and keep it there. The soft smile you flash him begs to be lost in. "If you haven't noticed, I quite like hearing your voice. You're sweet. And you always have the sweetest things to say." 

Gale grins, "Do I? Hm, I'd hate to have to call you mistaken, especially after the kindness you've imparted to me. But I believe you're the sweet one. In a multitude of ways, for that matter. I would certainly know." 

He only smiles wider when you pout, before playfully pushing at his shoulder. As you lean backward once more, getting comfortable, he is quick to close the distance in between you. 

Your arms sprawl above your head, wrists crossed over; as much as they can manage, anyways, accounting for the limited space his desk provides. Your elbows knock against carefully placed stacks of books, legs hanging over the desk's edge. Cool air fills and settles in your lungs, and he moves closer, a knee between your thighs, a hand pressed to the desk to rest himself over you. Throat dry, you swallow thickly. 

"But your thirst has not yet been quenched, now has it?" He murmurs, eyes narrowed, his voice noticeably lower than before. The palm he's kept to your cheek holds you delicately, and his thumb just barely brushes your plush bottom lip. 

"With you as delightful as you are," Gale is continuing, "To claim you deserve everything I could offer would be… plainer than insisting the midday sky to be blue, so to speak. I am eager to satisfy you, to give you the adoration you have most definitely warranted. I'd like to make this as pleasant as it will inevitably be unforgettable." He tilts your head towards him slightly, and you feel choked by breathlessness. "I could never express the whole of my love for you. But allow me to try." 

Your hands clam up, balling into sweaty fists as you try to maintain your gaze on his. Candle flames waver in the background of your vision, flickering to their own tune. His eyes travel from yours, to your lips, and back up again. 

"I love you," You whisper, because it's all you can think of, devotion is the only force running rampant in your mind, "I truly, earnestly do. We have time. We have nothing to fear anymore. You can take me in every way you wish. I'm yours, I always have been." 

Gale's brows pinch in thought, and his gaze brims with tenderness. "Then let us make up for the time we have lost." 

His palm moves. From your cheek, his touch patiently drifts to tickle the side of your neck. Your shoulder next, and you shudder when you feel his knuckles brush your chest. His touch is home, familiar and grounding, dragging the ruin from within you amid each subtle stroke. In the same instant, your heart is heavy, and set ablaze. 

"We can drown in each other. There is nothing I have wished for more, not a soul I have wanted greater than you." Gale divulges, "I've dreamt of this. Of making love to you, as we breathe one another's names. Of hearing you confess precisely what you've just told me, that you are mine." 

He inhales slowly, shakily. His palm gently feels your stomach, your hip, the curve of your side, while his resolute gaze never departs from your own — "I love you. You deserve perfection. And although I cannot promise such a thing, I swear to give you all of me." 

Gale watches your expression start to soften; reminiscent of the same sun he has always seen in you, when it first dawns from the steady, sea-bound horizon. You shift, your legs repositioning to either side of his waist, caging him in. You're smiling, and he keeps his eyes on your hazy form. 

"I don't need perfection," You answer simply, earnestly. "I just need you." 

You. 

There's so much hidden in such a short and basic word. I need you. You've longed for more than just to stand at his side as an ally, an assistant, a friend. Now, he can see that. How foolish he was to ever believe otherwise. At last, with no more perils to stand in your way, you're together. You have time. Your hearts can finally indulge in the magnetism they have to each other, no longer ruled by uncertainty. 

Without hesitation, you need him — as you have since the start, and for all that he is. 

For his softness, his intelligence, for the change in his voice when he's rambling about something he enjoys, and for the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren't paying attention. You found yourself wishing he knew. You've grown entranced with every part of him, including flaws coalesced with ambition, regardless of your possible destruction. Falling for him was natural. Mistakes and magic and mortality in all. 

Perhaps there is time to be made up for. But falling in love, entwining your fates together until they were at last pulled back as one, was purely inevitable. 

Gale exhales. He runs his fingers through his hair, his shoulders taut, hoping to relieve some of the tension. It only helps marginally. Both hands then maneuver to grip your waist. His thumbs brush your hips, the faintest touch alighting your skin in goosebumps. 

"You are… Gods, you fill me with such potent emotions, you know?" He murmurs; your arms are locking around his shoulders, keeping him close, and as he notices the heaviness to your eyes, his breath slowly grows more ragged, "I have always loved you, I've wanted this so terribly. And yet, now that it's happening, now that you are here, and not a lifetime apart like we both once were, I don't- I cannot think. My mind refuses to allow it." 

His hands tense on your waist, his brows furrowing, fingertips pressing ever-so forcefully into your skin. When you smile in response, and drag him in to interrupt with a tender, long kiss to his lips — this time, while eyes flutter shut in unison, heads tilting, a soft groan uttered against your mouth — thinking is left to become irrelevant. 

The focused expression he was wearing melts to a warm grin once you've pulled apart from him, exhaling heated breaths against his lips. His gaze on yours glints with affection, and his mind is a beautiful mess: thoughts not finding a beginning, nor an end. Smoothly and softly, Gale cups your cheek, and as you lean into his touch, the rest of his head weakens with blooms of love. 

For you, he has always been weak. You could best him, you could threaten to destroy him. You could pull him apart at the seams with tender, blood-soaked hands, and as long as you kissed him while cleaving his heart out, he would unravel for you with a smile. 

He murmurs quietly, "So I won't. I will cast any and all thoughts of mine to the wind. Doubt has long since had its fill of me, I refuse to provide it with more satisfaction. I've never loved anyone as intensely as I love you. Nothing could sate me as you do. With fate now ours to command… I hope I won't be made to let go of you." 

"Don't, don't ever let go of me," You answer, your tone a gentle coo, your hands tensed on his shoulders, "And don't you dare pull away." 

Gale laughs, huffing slightly. Then, he surges forward, along with pulling you in, until his lips are crashing like lulling waves against your own. 

You kiss, again and again, pressed together with purpose, burning with intensity. Blindly, his grip finds your wrist when your hands slip from his shoulders. An arm falls beside you, and he adjusts the other. Fingertips drift over your palm, he presses your hand beside your head, and he laces his fingers with your own. His hand and yours fit together like lock and key; naturally, just as he'd described. Your heart must resist the desire to never let go. 

As he slowly drags apart from your lips, he's moving to kiss your jaw, your neck. Warm, soft kisses, his tongue lightly tasting your skin, guiding you to curl into him. The slightest attention has a way of feeling so intoxicating, whenever he is the one to provide it. 

Anticipation envelops you. Desire links between him and yourself, and settles deep in the pit of your stomach. It gnaws at you, wanting more, wanting what you've needed since you first found each other. His touch is so irresistible because you've been waiting to feel it. You've dreamt and imagined, hoped and fought so you both could survive, and now, he is finally yours. 

"What do you need from me?" Gale hums into your nape, his palm caressing your side while he squeezes your hand. Sultry voice muffled, his messy hair tickles your skin, and his lips brush your collarbone. "I want to hear your voice speak the words." 

So, you answer. You let his voice wrap around you, his kisses to your neck embrace you, and allow yourself to melt underneath the weight of your longing. 

"I need you," You stammer into the open air, your grip on his hand growing tight. When he hums against your throat, faint kisses twisted with heady vibrations, you know what he wants, and you'll give him much more than that: "Fuck me, please…" 

The brazenness to your own words makes your head pool with poignant visions, daydreams of Gale pinning you to his desk and taking you like you've both been craving; a hand in yours, his thumb in your mouth. Slowly, intensely, amidst hitches of breath and skin against skin. With a tenderness so acute and raw, that the press of him inside you would be divine enough to make the Gods take notice. 

Some senseless part of you almost hopes they do. 

A terribly soft kiss is placed on your cheek, and you're shivering, listening to his breath pick up and his sighs get heavier. Your ankles are locking around him, they're pulling him closer. Now, he's moving, he kisses your lips fervently as your hand grips his, and your free palm settles onto the center of his chest; as it has done many times before, as though it was meant to be there. His heart pounds, his hips shove into yours. The stiff weight of his length, confined in his slacks, grinds between your legs — and you give up on whatever shreds of sense you were still holding onto. 

After a slow drag away from your lips, your chin now held between his fingers, Gale takes a deep breath. An intense, steadying breath. Through heavy eyes, the way he looks at you earns a shiver that traverses down the length of your spine. 

His brow cocks, his lips form a tell-tale smirk; and you should know from the way he looks at you that you've lost. Still, it takes his words to truly hammer it home, while your heart hammers in your chest alongside them. 

"You're quite exhilarating. Nevertheless, I suspect you are well aware of the powerful effects your coy words often have on me. With much proficiency, you know my weaknesses." Gale draws his fingertips over your jaw, his head tilted in subtle concentration. His voice is kept level, in the same gentle tone you've come to know, but there's no doubt he has you right where he wants you. You can tell, you could always tell. His gaze darkens with familiar ambition, and he draws a slow, shaky inhale. 

Yes, you may know his weaknesses. But he knows yours. 

"Need is but a dire, hungry word. Though, I must admit, I find it terribly sweet to hear you pleading for me." Gale teases, "Brings to mind our adventures together, your small implores of please when you wanted my help. Generally with some sort of riddle. Or a particularly well-locked door, perhaps. Of course, I could never say no to you." 

"Mhmm," You hum in reply, speaking slowly to force your growing nerves to calm. You've watched Gale master spell after spell, triumph over puzzle after puzzle. You can only imagine this is what it's like to be on the receiving end. Briefly, you clear your throat, "Let me guess, it's even sweeter to hear it from me now?" 

"Oh, yes. It certainly is. But a plea must be accompanied by an acknowledgement. I'd be cruel to keep you waiting any longer." 

Your fingers tense from the absence once his hand releases yours, but the way his touch glides down, from the shape of your hips to the back of your thighs, quickly has your nails digging into your own palm. You draw your bottom lip between your teeth. He tugs you closer, close enough to have your bodies rock together again — Shuddering, he sucks in a sharp breath, freezing up completely. It takes everything he has to resist grinding against you once more, to disregard the way his cock throbs at the thought alone. 

He's teased you quite enough. You are going to have what you want, and you're going to get it properly. 

Your eyelids flutter, your voice weak, desperate, "Gale-" 

Abruptly, you cut yourself off when he smooths his palms up your sides and leans in. Distances close, his lips brush the shell of your ear and his body presses closer to your own. Feeling him against you, the weight in his slacks nudging your entrance and brushing your clit, worn fabric growing messy and glossy with your arousal — It's merely a taste, when what you truly want is to feel him inside you. 

Every inch of your skin seems to burn with flushed heat. You were hoping to get him going a little. On that front, you seem to have succeeded. But you couldn't have expected him to turn the tides right back on you. 

His voice comes out right next to your ear, reverberating through you, pulling you under to drown in fervent waters. 

"You need me, yes?" Gale murmurs, and as his lips brush your lobe, you swear you can hear his stupid smile through his tone alone, "If you are begging for me to take you, to fuck you, what sort of lover would I be if I denied you what you've been desiring?" 

Your throat aches with a high-pitched whine; the building warmth within you blisters, and all your yearning culminates to this.

To your chest heaving between his kisses to your jaw and your face, your palm snaking between your bodies, arm reaching downward as far as it can manage. You're practically panting, as you allow your fingers to graze his waistband and fumble for a better grip. He indulges you, propping above you for a moment, and then discarding his pants in a rush, pushing them down just enough to let his cock come free. 

The dusting of brown hair leading from his chest to his stomach trails all the way down, but you aren't given much of a chance to stare; his hands grab your hips, he guides you while surging forwards to place a desperate kiss to your mouth. The tip of his cock, flushed and pearled with precum, ever-so slightly brushes your waiting entrance. 

And this — The sigh that racks through you, the expression on his face when he pulls back to look at you, to admire you, lips parted as he gasps. Your bodies tremor with the same longing, the same wavelength. Love drips over your heart and your ribs, melting like long crystallized amber, warm and rich and effortlessly palpable. 

You couldn't ask for anything else. In his presence, in his comfortable tower in Waterdeep, with his hands on your skin and his heart beating to the rhythm of your own, you've found your home. This moment is more than lovely. It is perfect, and as your soul begs to be known, to be understood, he instills you with a promise of worship. 

Worship. The adoration one might give to the Gods is still not divine enough for what you deserve, Gale believes. 

Perhaps it's your sense of contentment that causes your heart to stir. When your mind starts to wander, envisioning what the future may hold as Gale is squeezing your hips and peppering sweet kisses down your neck — You'd move in with him, the moment he asked. His tower has plenty of space for the both of you. Not that you have many belongings. His tressym has practically begged you to stay, citing herself that Gale wants you to, that he'd likely ask you, if he had the courage. He's much happier whenever you're around dear, he is simply too proud to admit it. 

Hells, you'd marry him if he were to propose, you've already dreamt of how he might do it. What he'd say, as he gets down on one knee and takes your hands into his. You wouldn't even think twice before you'd be resounding with a yes, followed by those three special words. 

He wouldn't have to simply show you the spectacles of his home, you could live through them. You could enjoy thousands of days just like this one, relaxing, teaching together, and then arriving home, indulging in each other's company until the sun rises back into the sky. It would be a nice life. The calm, simple life you both have earned. 

Your thoughts grow stuck on this morning, in particular. When the both of you had no idea what would transpire, still just friends, greeting each other politely as Gale ushered you into his home. Your lungs filled with the familiar smell of books, and the fresh new scent of the sea. 

The pitter patter of your heart in your chest grew frantic when he hugged you, and once he pulled back, he flashed you a smile that could melt a long, harsh winter. You cleared your throat, you kept your musings to yourself when he began to go over your plans at Blackstaff Academy for the day. 

It seems obvious now, but in the moment, you hardly thought anything of the soft way he looked at you. With such admiration, such devotion, a gaze on yours that promised, you can have me, I would allow it. And as Gale went over various spells, some you recognized and others you didn't, you could only pay attention to the tenderness in his voice, the focus on his face, and the dexterous movement of his hands. 

You felt foolish for imagining what else his pretty hands might be capable of. If only you knew. 

A deep breath in brings you back to the present. Gale leaves one last kiss to your nape, propping over you to reach up, pushing stray strands of hair from his face. You exhale, momentarily growing lost in his gaze. You've seen the love in his eyes countless times before, but his expression this time is different. It's brutally pleading, hopelessly tender. Nervous, almost. 

His hips shift tentatively, his gaze on yours, the fat head of his cock nudging against you — Pleasure surges through him like lightning, making his jaw clench as he swallows a groan. You both breathe a set of stuttery sighs, and your fingers tremor, before your hands clench tight. 

Reaching up, you settle with holding his shoulders once more. You feel the roaring heat under his skin, the dampness of sweat when you grip them for leverage. Muttering, you start, breaking into a whimper when a rock of his hips clumsily grinds his length against your cunt without pressing inside, "Gale, oh, fuck- I'd… I'd like you to try something. Can you?" 

Moving his palm from where it was covering his mouth, helping to muffle any slight noises, you notice Gale's lips are forming a smile. Although, the sweat beading at his pinched brows gives his desperation away. 

"Funny," He replies, his voice breathless and husky, "I was just about to fling a proposal on you. Nothing too terribly important, don't," He swallows, "Don't worry. I'm most interested in fulfilling your request. Go on, what is it?" 

You can't resist gnawing on your bottom lip before you speak, your gaze shifting from his, to somewhere in the distance. Now, you're the nervous one, "The… illusion magic, the spells you showed to me earlier. This morning, if you remember, when we were going over your syllabus? I thought magic of that nature might have some… other uses, is that right?" 

Magic is no stranger to you. But the illusion magic Gale has grown well versed in since he began his teachings, the complicated spells that hinge on nothing more than the limits of one's imagination — Outside of what he has already taught you, those are a mystery. You can't decide if your interest is because of their inherent perplexity, or if you're merely entranced because Gale has taken a liking to them. 

When he was showing you a couple basic spells, you once again found yourself enamored with the wonder on his face, the awe in his voice as he explained the spell's inner workings. This one you could master quite easily, he murmured, sparkling gaze on yours as he held a projection in his hands with relative ease. A projection of a small bloom, your favorite flower. You hardly recall when you must have told him it was your favorite, nor were you expecting him to remember. As you reached out, you swore you could feel the bud's smooth phantom petals underneath your fingertips. 

His voice, speaking quiet incantations, his fingers, easily forming the shapes necessary to bring the spells to life — It was mesmerizing, as captivating as you remembered it to be, way back when. 

This wasn't back then, though. The moment itself felt newly intimate. Sparks filled the air and your lungs, flecks of lingering Weave, pleasant energy working through your body from the ends of your toes to the top of your head. His energy, Gale's magic. The spells he casts have a way of seeming like him, unique and defining, down to the very way they feel. 

You were reminded of your journey together. Of the ashes in the air on the heels of a fiery incantation, of the zeal in your veins from a protective shield, or a hastening touch. Your heart twinged with a stronger ache, held down by how much you've missed him. 

You want to be enveloped in that familiar sensation again. In his magic. In the comforting way it settles around you, the feeling it alights in your chest, and in the way it reminds you that he's here. 

Your words cause Gale to pause. His expression carries the gentlest hint of surprise. He opens his mouth to speak, before stopping. Instead, he smiles, he cocks a brow, and the only thing to betray his newfound confidence is the heavy heave of his chest. 

Unfortunately, you can't hear the way his heart is pounding. You can't sense the brilliant adoration, the foolish excitement that burns into him, affection lapping at his chest with persistent flames. But he can show you. 

"How clever. Extraordinarily clever, really. And you're only," Gale makes a small pinching gesture, "A slight bit off from what I was hoping to suggest, as a matter of fact." 

He reaches for your side then, gently caressing your skin under his palm; you relax at his touch, but stay focused on him as he speaks, "Gods, you know me all too well. Perhaps better than I know myself. Illusory magic lends itself excellently to various creative uses, I think a fair few spells could prove useful, given our current… position. As it happens, I have just the spell in mind." 

"Do you?" You shuffle, your breath hitching slightly in your lungs, while his palm continues to run over your skin, clearly relishing in the way you shiver. "I didn't know if, you know- I wasn't sure if it was something you wanted. You're really okay with this?" 

"Love," Gale hums, interrupting with a quiet instruction, "Close your eyes." 

Panting softly, you allow your arms to rest above you on the desk, and you adjust a bit to get more comfortable. You match your gaze with his for a moment, your heart only beating faster at the honeyed reverence in his eyes. Then, slowly, you take a deep breath, and let the world disappear. 

There's silence, darkness. You feel his hand squeeze your side in gentle reassurance. He shifts, pressing closer. When you hear his voice next, your nervousness is put at ease, calmness flooding through your body. Warm and especially addicting, his words are all you have to focus on. 

"You are precious. As perfect as the alluring beauty of the moon. As lovely as the sparkling sanctity of the Heavens stars," He murmurs, at a volume barely above a whisper. His breath is steady on your skin, and his fingertips trail up your side, to leave barely-there touches over your chest. "If you do not like this, tell me. We'll waste no time stopping." 

"I will," You answer, your own voice seeming to echo in your eardrums, "But it's okay. I trust you." 

This time, his breathing in your ear runs slow. You dwell in a few seconds of hesitation, wrapped in budding anticipation, before you assume you feel him pulling away. He utters a soft word laced with power, his fingers snap, and your head goes hazy. 

"Praestigium."

The invocation breathes a plea, calling upon a source, and the magic responds in turn: sharp, wild, divine. 

You can feel the comforting veins of magic flowing through you, settling around you, cradling your mind in a warm embrace almost instantly. Your eyes flutter open — Or do they? For a moment, it's difficult to tell, as your dizzy vision refocuses, and the pleasant illusion becomes part of you. 

It feels like your head is shrouded in clouds. You're soaring, floating on air, no longer able to feel the hardness of his firm wooden desk beneath you. The room melts; everything is there, but at the same time, it isn't. Shadows speckle your vision, blurry shrouds that slowly begin to melt to pure white. Gale comes into focus above you. His form is perfectly clear, his warm smile effortlessly charming. 

Energy surrounds you: satin and strength, sweetness and intelligence. The smell of sandalwood wafts through the air, flooding your lungs, then slowly starting to fade. Just like that, you are grounded. You are balanced, your mind clearer than ever, and the moment veils you, it embraces you, it is you. 

It's far from what you were expecting, but the surprise is more than welcome. You thought having illusion magic cast on yourself would be more floaty. More akin to a dream, or a living foggy memory. 

Yet, this feels real, wonderfully real, as though he's carved out a space in reality for him and yourself to call your own. Here, with him, nothing else matters. Nothing but your longing, your love, and the infinite future that stretches ahead of you. 

When he leans in to kiss your cheek, you feel his lips, his breath, and his fingertips on your jaw, with a vivid touch that shines — rolling through you like the spark of constellations, an aurora of shivering pleasure and brilliant closeness. Both hands grab your hips, and you feel them strongly, comfortingly, the intensity as he shifts them nearly too much to bear. He guides your legs to wrap around his waist again, locked at the ankles, holding him close. 

He is the only thing you can perceive, your senses are heightened, and every sensation to grip you is positively electric. This magic does more than spawn an illusion or clear your mind; it's intensifying your grip on mortality. 

You can hear his breathing as easily as it were your own. You can feel his heart, can measure each quick beat when he collides his lips with yours, his chest pressing against you. Thump, thump, thump, in your ears, in your own ribs, then the heavy thrum of his shadowy blight — so raw and intense, it nearly threatens to swallow you. 

His presence entwines yours, his magic sears through you. He pulls you closer with his palm holding the back of your head, and he kisses you like this time could be the last. Your core burns red-hot. You're enveloped in dizzying feelings you can't quite place. As he pulls away, you lean back, and you let your head sink into the clouds. His palm stays to cup your face, slightly tilting your head towards him. 

You both catch your breath, chests heaving. Gale admires you underneath him, brushing your cheek with his thumb. He places a kiss to your forehead that glimmers over you like an untamed ray of sunlight. 

Slowly, as your head grows used to the spell, you calm, becoming more relaxed. Your mind is a clear, still lake, your thoughts as crisp as cool water. When you hear him speak once more, his head tilted to breathe the words against your ear, it's as though his voice is everywhere, ebbing and flowing through your brain as an encircling echo. 

"Comfortable?" He murmurs, simply and softly. 

"Yes, very," You answer with a nod of your head. Your own voice appears muffled, reminiscent of being underwater, "This is… lovely. It's amazing. You're amazing." 

"Excellent. I'm glad to hear you aren't too overwhelmed," Gale continues. His smooth tone bounces around the walls of your skull, while his fingertips drift down, drawing shapes you can't recognize onto your nape. "Remember, what you are experiencing is merely an altered form of reality. Do not push yourself. This old desk isn't exactly a bed of roses, but I hope I've succeeded in making it a mite more comfortable for you." 

Grinning to yourself, you allow your arms to relax beside you, and you promptly shudder, growing lost in the feeling of weightlessness beneath you. Gale straightens. He props himself above your form, his gaze indulging in you. 

Although his study is mostly a blur, details meshed in flowery fog, telltale light from the candles still dances across his features. You reach up, trailing your fingers over his earring, the metal cold on your skin. Then, your fingertips brush his cheek, they caress the faded trail of dark lines burned into his skin. He smiles, and he brings a hand to settle over your own. 

His touch is warm. It is a crisp morning breeze drifting through you; his eyes flutter shut when he kisses the heel of your palm, and every inch of you flushes with tangible radiance. He pulls your wrist away, only to bring you palm to palm, fingertips to fingertips for a few moments. His hand lies flat against yours, before your fingers tightly, naturally lace. 

"In all sincerity, I must admit," He begins, shyly glancing away from you, muttering through a laugh that seems to jostle your entire system, "The spell I've cast on you is… clearly not meant to be harnessed in such a way. Or perhaps, more so, it is not often used while such, erm, satisfactions… are taking place. Even for a wizard of my caliber, it may prove difficult to control- If the spell ever snaps, so to speak, just know you have no reason to be alarmed." 

Head still heavy from the incantation's lingering effects, you were so lost in his ramblings — resounding through your mind like they never have before — you almost failed to notice he's begun to lean in. He softly guides your hand to press down, against the surface of what you can only assume is his desk. At first, you can feel the resistance, but soon softness overlaps. Clouds envelop the sensation, and you're left suspended in air once more. 

Your heart skips when he kisses you, slowly and smoothly. Innocently, at first, devotion carrying you on soft wings. And then, deeper, while his hand squeezes yours, and his tongue explores your mouth with a languid lack of urgency. 

You melt, your chest encompassed in a floating feeling. He murmurs soft groans into your mouth; every part of him yearns to pull you closer, to have you, to hold you. Gods, he loves you, and he curses himself for ever trying to push those feelings down. He won't let you go now, no matter how the world tries to pry you from each other's grasp. 

When he shifts, pressing closer, kissing you harder, the flushed and needy tip of his cock nudges your cunt — Instantly, a blistering sense of ecstasy flutters through your every pore, and you whine into him, your body going slack. 

And that was simply from a touch. Just a small press of him against you, brushing close to where you're deliciously sensitive, and you're fucking breathless. Your core is wound with preemptive pleasure; just a tease, and your mind is swimming with how badly you need to feel him inside you. You aren't sure what you'll experience once you're given more, once you're actually taking him. 

That damned spell. You should be a mess by now. Perhaps you are, and the calm cradle of the illusion is what's tethering you to the earth. Tether or not, you hardly care about keeping your composure. You don't care for your imminent disarray. In fact, more than anything, you need to have him ruin you. 

It's hard to speak. Your lungs are aching, but as he draws backward from your lips, you manage to huff, "You aren't going to hold back, right?" 

Gale smirks, exhaling in short pants. He pushes up, putting his familiar silhouette — messy hair, broad shoulders tensed, branded chest slightly heaving — back in the forefront of your vision. 

"Oh, I'm afraid I am far past the threshold of being able to do so. For you, for everything you have long awaited, my desires will remain unhindered," He replies calmly, brows slightly furrowed. "Besides, I've been sharpening my concentration as of late. This could prove an opportune time to assess the extent of my exercises. I think we're both wondering how much pressure my focus can take." 

His words ripple through you, comforting and lighthearted in their tone. They do the trick. You're sparked with delight, your mind set at ease. Briefly, you wonder if the incantation connects you together, because when you relax, he seems to as well: his breathing becoming calmer, his expression softening, and his grip on your hand relaxing. 

If you truly wanted to, you'd find escaping from the spell he's placed on you to be rather simple. You've faced much more enthralling spells than this. Magic more complex, much more wicked. You know the feeling of having a spell muddle your mind, down to your very bones; you have your little journey to thank for that. And you know how to break them, as simply as putting one foot in front of the other. 

This spell is different. It is warm and soothing, it carries none of the malice that would weigh down the charms you've felt before. It's effortlessly him, magic which caresses you as though his very arms were there to hold you. Magic that roots into you, a breath of life, a ray of moonlight. Thoughtful as always, Gale has made this particular spell weak, and you can determine so without trying. Likely to make snapping it simple, if you decided to. 

You could break the illusion. But you choose to let go. 

You breathe in, slowly and deeply, and you allow the spell to swallow every last aspect of your being. The clouds wane briefly, before you're surrounded, melting slowly into pleasure and froth. The moment feels raw, alive. You are here, you both are, finally able to love, to be loved. And love him you will. Without any regret. 

Gale, appearing clear and pure above you, pushes his hair from his face, and looks at you like you are worth dying for. Living for. His expression is painfully soft. He steadies a hand on your side, he dotes on your dips and curves and marble-carved features; every part of you was meant to be adored, akin to the statues one might bow before. He sighs slowly, inhales even slower. 

"The spell," He begins, palm caressing your side with gentle motions, "You could break it yourself, yes?" 

You nod, tone soft, "Yes, absolutely." 

"Very good." Gale's voice echoes. It splinters through your mind, it knits into your heartbeat, "Not that I had a shred of doubt. You're doing quite well." 

A squeeze of your hand, a grip on your side pulling you ever-so carefully closer, and heightened surges of intensity are shooting through you much stronger than before. Your eyes shut, your back arches, your muscles ache, but pleasure takes over to drown you, his cock brushing your entrance. Lips parted, he exhales a trembling breath, one that seems to travel through you in turn.  

"Focus, and breathe slowly. Deep breaths in, and then finally, out. I'm here with you. I won't be going anywhere." 

Your heart is pounding, but at the sound of his voice, at the feeling of his smooth tone bouncing around you, your thoughts become still. Your pulse slows, your chest gently rises, and then falls. The only thing left rushing through your veins is a wild, unfiltered need. 

"Stay with me, please," Gale breathes, words cracking at the edges. He presses closer, his eyes close and his forehead comes to rest against yours, your bodies held on the loving cusp of almost-connection. "Stay, and let me be tender for you, my dearest love." 

"Gale-" You murmur, your voice sweet in his ears like dripping syrup, as you strum the familiar notes of his name. "I love you, I need you." 

Of course, and you will have him. 

Gale gives your hand one more squeeze, reassuring you, preparing you. He swallows down the growing thickness in his throat. His head is buried in the nape of your neck as he finally gives himself to you, carefully easing into you — Everything slow, heat rushing through you in the form of a wildfire, the clouds holding you in their ethereal embrace. Pleasure pulls your every nerve taught in a tight, delightful string, and for once, your soul within you feels alive. 

His fingers go shaky, his grip tightens on your side in response. You're just barely fit around the head of him, and you feel him mutter a half-sigh, half-moan into your nape that shakes your body with the potent vibrations. 

It's like you can feel the spell itself shudder. 

"I love you," He's pressing into your warmth, his jaw clenched, hips gently rolling, filling you with more of him until you are stretching to his shape, "Could I give you more? Can you take all of me?" 

"Yes," Your throat is unmistakably sore, but still, you speak without thinking. You need more, need to feel the friction become part of your body as he fills you. Your back arches to meet him, and pleasure hums in your veins with intoxicating strength. Every one of his gasps echoes against you, then through you. The thrum of his warm cock inside you is so deliciously, impossibly perfect. 

"F-Fuck," You swear, biting down your quickened gasps, fighting through the incessant pound of your heart; lest your languor succeeds in devouring you, "Please, yes…" 

The whine that overtakes the edge of your voice makes him shiver. Gale groans softly, his shoulders growing tense. His hips lazily buck into you — until his pelvis is shoved deft against your body, sweat-soaked skin pressed to softer skin, burying him inside you down to the hilt. 

His breath on your nape is loud, hurried, and at the mercy of his weary limbs, he tries his hardest not to collapse. Silently, he must thank you for getting one high out of him earlier. With how good you feel, with how badly he's needed you, if you hadn't, he isn't sure if he'd last much longer. 

Not like you are faring any better. 

Your heart isn't just beating, but battering at your chest, tearing through your body and knocking into your ribs as though it needs to come free. You wouldn't be surprised if your gasps are resounding just as loudly as his. Thighs shaking, you struggle to keep your legs wrapped around his waist, your ankles almost slipping before he grabs your legs to readjust you. He shifts close, still sheathed inside you. The gentle movement sends small ripples of ecstasy through your core that, in the wake of his spell, instead feel like large, thundering waves. Crashing over you, swallowing you. 

You feel full, so fucking full. The depth to where you can feel him — all of him, so deep inside you — practically has your head whirling. Gale blinks, his vision blurred, causing his lashes to tickle your skin in a faint butterfly kiss. You're wobbling and teetering like a spinning top. Your eyes flutter closed, trying to steady some of your own dizziness. 

This time, he presses a real kiss to your nape. Then, he's working a palm underneath you, supporting your back, holding you close. His other hand finds its perfect place in your own again, your fingers lacing with his. Around him, you feel irresistible, so wet and warm and lovely. You are everything he has ever wanted, you are his love; the world, in the palms of his hands. 

He wants to let his hips rock, wants to hear your voice strained with lust while you're pleading in pants of his name. He needs to feel the electrifying friction blazing through him, as he fucks wave after wave of pleasure into you — Though, despite those desires, despite the way they fall into him, gripping him at his very core, he stops. He calms, and he savors you. 

You're given a chance to catch your breath, thankfully. To drift among the endless sky underneath you, and the river of magic surrounding you. In this reality, on this bed of stars and sea, his presence and yours are all to exist. Pulse still racing, you indulge in the stretch of him inside you. He feels utterly exhilarating, even without movement. For a few fleeting moments, you simply bask in each other, and nothing more. 

"You feel so good… So stunningly perfect," Gale is gasping, every word breathless, "Ah- Just this alone could sate me, drowning in your warmth around me while our bodies connect- Your soul and mine are truly one. Nothing else compares." 

Nothing in this universe compares to you. 

You are his beginning, and you will be his end. You've captured him in warmth, in an embrace that breathes velvet promises, until every part of you is left racing through his mind. 

Gale remembers the faint smiles you'd flash him whenever he caught your eyes, your nose scrunching so delightfully, your head turning away as his words made you chuckle. It's the same smile each time. The same expression, the same dance of adoration in your gaze when yours and his happen to meet. 

A love reserved only for him. His own form of love is engraved with your name. 

You float between every thought, making him think you might've become part of him. He fondly dotes on his memories of the sparkling stars in your eyes, the way you looked as you gazed up at them, admiring the constellations that have always watched over you. He can put a name to them all, because you were his reason to remember. At any time, in any place, those woven stars shone overhead, writing the twists and turns of destinies. And now, after tonight, they'll give you the privilege of viewing them together once more. 

He could never forget you. It wasn't a possibility, not when he still revels in all of your details that make him oh-so weak. His missing piece returned to him, you are his love, his home. 

Perhaps you were meant to be connected. Body and soul, with separate lifetimes worth of familiarity. You're two halves of the very same whole. To have known one another, is to be the sun and sunflower, the rain and the soil, the grand mountains, and the edge of the clouds. You'll find yourselves in everything, ultimately. 

The orb could take him, and if he became nothing but dust, taking his city of Waterdeep with him in a storm of decimation — What remains of his devotion would find its way home to you. 

But he wouldn't allow it. Not anymore. He is going to live, against everything, along with you, and beside you. No matter what it may cost him. 

With a small shift, his hips grind into you faintly, he presses into you impossibly deeper. Your bottom lip quivers, before you take it between your teeth. As you feel him throb inside you, you're sighing together in delightful unison. 

"You are…" His words are shaky, they wobble through your mind. For once, to your elation, he can hardly seem to speak, "Sweetheart, my dearest… I just- I love-" 

His sentence stays unfinished; Gale stutters into a shuddery whine when you pull him in, your legs wrapped around him, dragging him just a bit closer, but enough to enthrall both of you in powerful sparks. The pleasure that overtakes him, that overtakes the both of you, is so vibrant and love struck, so unlike anything else — You're sure neither of you will be able to hold back, not anymore. 

Good. 

"More, please," You plead, your voice needy to the point of babbling, "Fuck me, I need you, I'm- ah, please, Gale…" 

Shuddering, Gale takes an overly long breath. His grip tenses on your hand, and he softly rubs his thumb over your calloused knuckles. Cool air enters his lungs, calming his mind, steadying his heart. And when he finally begins to move, you've never felt anything more divine. 

You were made for one another, you're sure of it. You must be, when every sensation to encompass you does so with such endlessness. With tenderness that has the very forming of his name on your tongue completely intrinsic. 

His hips rock into you shallowly, careful and passionate thrusts hardly separating you. Pleasure melds within your veins so sinfully, until your heart can only believe in the inevitable bond between your two shapes. 

As he keeps up a steady pace, driving his cock inside you, you're murmuring gasps between every whine of his name. His secluded study is filled with noise. With the melody of skin against skin, and the echoes of your breathing and his. The wet sound of your arousal squelches around his length each time you take him. He keeps his head buried in the nape of your neck, his quickened breath fanning over your skin. Easing into you, he then pulls out only half-way, just to thrust in again with a slow, languid press of his hips. 

Gale has experienced wonders most mortals could only dream of. And yet, he's never felt anything quite like this. 

It's been a while. A very, very long time, in fact, since he has connected with anyone in this sort of way. So long, he's forgotten what it could feel like — Bodies pressed together in a perfect, tangled mess. Hands entwined and lungs strained. 

But he has never loved anyone quite the same as his love for you. This is different. Warm beams of intimacy fill him more and more with every buck of his hips into you, with every whimper from your lips for him. And those delicate feelings swelling in his chest — They are entirely, utterly new. 

This moment feels sweet. Carnal. There's something so filthy, yet so, impossibly loving about feeling you in such a way. Back then, against his composure and his better judgment, he imagined this. He dreamt of taking you, and hopelessly wondered if you wanted the same. Now, the ecstasy of feeling you around him practically burns. You are addicting, everything he could want in the best possible way. Intoxicatingly his, just as he's always yearned for. 

You have thousands more days and nights ahead of you, there will be countless times to come. Time for him to love you, to hold you, to show you what magic lies on his lips. That is what truly gets him. This moment will last. It won't be a dream, or a passing fantasy. Your gentle future is only just beginning. 

Gale's movement comes to steady as he pushes up, breathing one last sigh against your nape before he props over you. Your entrancing eyes are half-lidded, your lips are parted as you pant. You're pretty enough to destroy him. He already knows he would let you. 

His palm cups your cheek. You tilt into his touch, leaning back against his desk and the foggy pillows underneath you. Beneath his fingertips, the thrum of his magic clings to your skin like a flower's soft petal caught in a spider's web. He knows he must be the only figure in your vision, just as you are the center of his world. He can picture the way his voice and his touch are shining through you. His gasps are echoing in your ears, his palm drifts from your cheek to your neck to the curve of your shoulder, and surely brands light wherever it brushes. 

When his hand comes to settle on your side, holding tight while he rocks into you, he can't seem to help himself from glancing down. Gale watches as his steady movement has his cock nestling inside you, disappearing to fill you to the tune of you moaning for him, the shaft glistening in the low light once he starts to pull back. 

Gods. The thoughts that begin to race though his head are so terribly, deliciously filthy — Overwhelmed, his pace starts to falter, he's growing clumsy. His grip on your hand turns so tight it nearly hurts, his brows furrowed into a knot, as he pistons into you with newfound desperation. 

Waning sensitivity still clings to him, leftover from his previous high. In a fluttery contradiction, the intensity surging through him only seems to make him want you more. 

"I don't deserve how good you are to me," Gale hums, slightly shaking his head — Every sigh, each word bounces around your skull and glows within you from the inside out. His steady presses inside you don't relent, his skin slapping yours; they just force his words to shake, and his hand to clench much harder on your waist. 

"This… possessiveness I have for you, it's- Ah, Gods… It is damn near agonizing," He's murmuring, speaking those last few words through an almost-chuckle, "My heart has never yearned for anything more. You made me feel alive, love. Tonight, and always. And you feel-" His jaw tightens, teeth gritting, "Utterly amazing… Tell me, if you can find the strength within you to speak. Tell me how this feels." 

Right now, your mind is swimming. Stardust glitters in your veins, and your core is wound nice and tight, overwhelmed by ripples of pleasure. For a moment, words won't come to you. Instead, you reach up to press a palm to the back of his head, and you drag him close, quick enough to make him utter a faint noise of surprise against your soft lips. You kiss, slowly and deeply. You're both sighing heavily once you've pulled away to breathe. 

"S-So good, it's perfect, you're perfect," There's a desperate edge to your voice. You can feel the rawness in your throat, can make out the high tones even through the fog in your head, "Gale, don't stop- Gale-" 

Gale shudders. Your palm slips from his cheek to fall above you in a heap, and you're whining, back arching, head tossed back. You are simply beautiful. 

"I love the way you say my name. The sound is quite lovely when it is- Shit-" He chokes, breaking into a gasp when his body rocks against yours, "When it is your lips to sculpt the word, your darling voice to utter the syllables…" 

You tremble, your eyes fluttering shut, your heart thumping so fast you can hear it in your eardrums. In the wake of his hips rolling into yours, you can feel each press with inexplicable sensitivity. His cock pumps in and out of you so tenderly, and every throb of his length pulses through you. 

Softly and carefully, he kisses your forehead. Then, he's leaning back. He pulls you closer in tandem with pressing inside you, filling you. You've never been this sensitive, never felt this loved. You are melting into him, your chest heaving from your heavy sighs, your lips quivering with whines of pleasure: pretty moans breathed all for him. 

Once you feel his fingers grasp your chin, thumb briefly brushing your lips, your eyes begin to flutter. Shadows masquerade as clouds, your vision hazed by blurred edges and flickering lights. The ardent fangs of magic sink into you, trapping you in their whirlwind. Your heart pounds quickly, unrelentingly, thudding hard against the cage of your chest. 

Gale's smile is clear as day, though. Trying your best to gaze at him above you, you feel that rapid heartbeat instead begin to sing. He tilts your head a bit, guiding you towards him. And gently, breathlessly, he murmurs, "Can you look at me, my love?" 

The fuzziness in your field of view starts to fade, and your breath begins to catch. Buried deep inside you, he stops, keeping his hips still while panting hard. Sweat glistens on his skin, his hair is brushing his shoulders, and he reaches to push some strands from his face. He swallows thickly. He squeezes your hand one last time before he lets it go. 

"This," A purple thread of magical light begins to dance between his fingertips, illuminating his face in an amethyst glow, "Is what I wished to show you." 

Adoring and unwavering, his gaze stays on yours, even as he's illustrating shapes with his fingers; movements so quick and effortless, you're barely able to make them out. Swirls here, a triangle there — With one final shape, the magic hums to life. It shimmers through the air with radiance almost palpable, glowing ever brighter, reflecting lavender rays in his eyes. All it takes is an incantation to truly set it ablaze. 

"Ad astra." 

The previous spell loses concentration, and in its place, a new one takes form. 

You hadn't noticed your eyes were closed until the spell had fully finished settling upon you. A new sensation prickles at the surface of your skin, familiar and star-filled. Finally, your gaze focuses above you, after Gale's soft instruction of: Open your eyes. 

You still feel floaty, your senses less acute, your head washed over with warmth. This time though, the illusion is different. You are resting in calm grass and whispering meadows, and when colorful stars fill your vision until you're drowning in their light, the view above you seems completely real. 

Gale is atop you still, but his study remains melted away. Small flickers of candlelight have transformed into brilliant illuminations, leaving him in a backdrop of twinkling starlight and a beautiful aurora. You're gently swept through the makeshift sky. Hues of purple and green and blue wash over you, like how waves might flow over the shore. Light surrounds you, but at the same time, it shines within you. 

In a way, it reminds you of the sight he once made a long time ago, the aurora he created to shimmer through the Shadowlands. Back then, when tensions were high and words were left unspoken, you admired the stars in comfortable silence. So close — You could have reached for his hand next to yours, or closed the distance in mere moments to learn what his lips felt like on your own. But you didn't. The familiarity makes your pulse run wild. 

A canopy of beauty. This is what he once planned to admire on his last night alive, and yet, now he has an abundance of nights to spend by your side. Sprawled out beneath him, you are far more beautiful than anything in the countless shimmering skies. 

"Wonderful," You murmur, speaking under your breath. Your voice is just loud enough for him to hear. You're smiling, your gaze flickering between the messes of stars above you, lights that twinkle steadily with a gentle glow. "Reminds me of the stars from ages ago. This is gorgeous, Gale." 

"Not as gorgeous as you, of course," He replies, the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at his features. His words are smooth, they no longer flicker endlessly through your mind. Rather, when he speaks, his familiar voice captures your heart in the same way it always has. "If only you knew how truly breathtaking you are." 

His heart aches with desire, because as you look up at him — at him, not the illusion, your gaze is on his while the loveliest smile crosses your lips — in your eyes, he sees that same lovely sparkle. 

You're lost in him, for a moment. Gale's expression grows soft as he continues to admire you. When you feel gentle fingertips travel the length of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, you tremble. A sigh leaves your mouth, his fingers lacing with yours once more. He holds your hand tightly, safely. Gale can't resist, he tips forwards to kiss you; your lips connect, with crackling electricity and still-lingering traces of magic sparking from his mouth to yours. 

Devotion is palpable in the way he kisses you. It quickly turns eager, becoming a tender mess of soft moans and tongue. And at last, everything to remain falls away. 

Heat surges through both your bodies until you're consumed by wildfire. With one more kiss, Gale grips you hard, his hips begin to move. You whine against his mouth as he slowly rocks into you, you're mumbling his name in the form of a plea — The sound only serves to make him more desperate. 

He mutters your name in turn: a low, affectionate utterance. His thrusts take on a deeper pace, as he fucks into you hard enough to make his desk shake — fervent enough to have your heart trembling, love drowning you in heavy depths. 

Your arousal and his drip down your thighs, dirtying the hardwood. It's making a mess, echoing lewd, wet noises with each clumsy movement, the slap of skin against skin sounding particularly soaked each time he pistons into you. Every echo fills his ears, curling through his mind oh-so pleasantly. It would be the most addicting melody he's ever heard, if it weren't for how sweet you sound when you're moaning for him. 

And you're loud, you're mumbling a mess of words he can't quite make out. Your sighs mix with whines, turning sharp each time he eases his cock into you. Gale breathes a shaky breath, fanning warmth over your face, before he's moving to place quick kisses to the corner of your mouth, and then, your jaw. 

His lips brush the column of your neck, where your pulse is racing for him; when his hips rut into yours, you're cooing soft pleas, quietly murmuring, Don't stop. Your back arches, and he adorns you with his tongue and teeth, sucking gently at your supple skin. 

He shouldn't. What would your confidants say, if you crossed paths with them? When you return to Baldur's Gate, what would the guild leaders who respect you, and the fancy patriars who need you think when they happened to see it? They would know he was there, know you are his. Foolishly, dizzyingly, he allows his lips and his mouth to leave a deep mark, an imprint of himself. He doesn't pull back until he's sure the bruise will take. 

You shudder, feeling the ghost of his mouth even once he's pulled away, cold air brushing the saliva he left on your neck and making your nerves twinge. Slow rolls of his body into yours have you shaking, but you're squeezing his hand tightly, your other palm is balling into a fist and you're begging, "Please, faster… Fucking Hells… Give me more." 

Gale sighs. His brows knot, he falls forwards and leans his forehead softly against yours. "For you, I would give the world."

He swallows, he steadies. Then, he places all the world's pleasures in the palms of your hands. 

The weight behind his thrusts, newly desperate and hurried, have him gripping you for leverage: a palm tensed on your waist, fingertips digging into your hip. He grasps your thigh to push it up and apart. His desk is knocking against the wall, the wooden legs squeaking and scraping the floor. 

Your body tenses with building intensity — Building and building and building, threatening to overwhelm you between every movement, until you aren't sure where your high begins, nor where it ends. All you know is you're close. And if he keeps fucking into you like this, filling you nice and deep, nudging against your sweetest spots only he can reach, it won't be long before you're falling apart for him. 

With one last quick kiss to your forehead, your thighs spread apart wider, Gale is propping over you; and Gods, does he look like a mess. Pools of glowing magic paint him in the most vivid hues. His hair is out of place, honey brown strands askew, the faintest pretty streaks of silver reflecting in the starlight. His skin shines with dripping beads of sweat, his chest is heaving, jaw clenched — You can't help but feel he might crumble at the smallest touch. 

So, you unclench your hand. You let your fingertips drift up, and you brush them over his cheek. As you're cupping his face, his shoulders tense, and he doesn't just crumble, he collapses. 

Gale falls into you, leaning his head into your nape. His palm fits between the desk and the arch of your back to hold you even closer to himself. His breathing is rapid, his hand takes on a distinct tremble when another rock of his body against yours has you moaning ragged gasps of his name. 

His name, you're pleading for him to take you — Grinding his teeth together until his jaw hurts, he bucks into you hard, enough to have you fluttering around him, squeezing him like a vice. He chokes back broken gasps of his own, and exhales hot fans of breath over your sensitive skin. You are going to be the death of him. 

"I have always-" Gale starts; he struggles to speak, his voice sounds close to breaking, yet his words drip with an earnestness you find enthralling, "I have always loved you. My sweetheart… Every beat of my heart is yours…" 

Yours. 

Eyes fluttering between open and closed, the aurora around you spins incessantly. You respond in turn, mumbling through fragile gasps for breath, as he works you up to a growing, intensifying peak. 

"I'm yours, Gale," Your fingers tangle in soft hair, gripping and tugging until he's groaning. Pleasure floods your every nerve, and you're a mess around his cock, tumbling through the sea of stars and alluring lights — "I'm yours, I'm yours-" 

"Oh, love-" 

All at once, the spell abruptly snaps, your focus and your senses melding into one in a dizzying, sparkling rush. You're brought back to reality. The heart of his quiet study comes into view again, his walls of books and shelves of artifacts, the colorful lights fading into nothingness. Your form is bathed in warm candlelight, the night sky treading in from his balcony. Cool air dances over you, while the pale moon is hung high in the darkness. 

Ecstasy slams through you, blissfully unfiltered. Everything is messy, perfect, and hopelessly desperate; you grip his hair tight, and his hand harder. Gale pants, his breath sharp and his lungs aching as he fucks you into the desk, pushing you closer and closer to your edge — until even without the aid of magic, you're left seeing stars. 

He is so terribly, utterly in love with you. Every one of those nights where he pushed you away, those moments where he almost left you, when he was possibly the most foolish he's ever been in his entire life — 

A slow, tender press inside you, and you're muttering his name softly once more, adoring it, pleading it. He wants to hear your voice strumming his name over and over, teasing him after his half-hearted attempts to make you laugh, begging for him to give you what you need, because he is the only one who can. Answering with, Yes, Gale, I will, when he asks you to marry him. He can't change the mistakes he's already made, but he can earn your love, and your softness. He can promise to never let you go. Not ever again. 

"I'm here, I have you," Gale mumbles in a shaky tone. He presses a soft kiss onto your nape, he squeezes your hand when your breath begins to hitch. His words are smooth and comforting, they send tingles up your spine, and they have you melting in a way you never have before. 

The edge to your high is right within reach, he's only bringing you closer. Your head won't stop spinning. As he trails kisses from your neck to your jaw, his lips are a touch from the sun, beams of warmth that shudder through you to shine over the surface of your skin. 

"Gale-" You whimper, "Fuck, I'm-" 

He presses into you deeply, gripping your hand, filling you with a thickness you'll never quite get enough of, and you can't help but stutter into a whine. His pelvis shoves against yours, skin against skin, arousal messy and wet and dripping out of you — Your thighs are shaking, and you only need one more breath before you're finding that zenith of pleasure. Warm and perfect against your nape, his words have you taking the final tumble. 

"Come undone for me." 

Your high shatters through you, you're tensing around his sloppy thrusts, your legs are slipping from around him. Your body curls into his, your eyes shutting tight. Desire drowns you, it burns from within you; throat sore, you cry out in loud, desperate moans, and everything melts around you as you let go, cumming for him. 

And Gale, normally so confident, so eloquent, a wizard prodigy, a Goddess' chosen — He buries himself deep inside you, choking down stutters and groans. With a mess of barely coherent pleas of your name, your sweet voice and the feeling of you squeezing him, fluttering in the pleasant aftershocks of your release, has him falling to pieces right there beside you. 

"Please, please, please…" Gale begs, even though he hardly knows what he's begging for. His clumsy hips roll into you with reckless abandon, echoing the sloppiest noises. His voice is broken and fragile, tender in a way you've never heard before: "I love you, I love you…" 

I love you. In this life, and every life to follow. Only to fall in love once more, all over again. 

Gasping, shaking, his body tenses, and when he falls into you, you're left to hopelessly clutch onto his hand and his hair. Pleasure racks through him, his breath getting caught in his lungs. The candles in his study flicker, the branded orb-shaped marking imprinted onto his chest glows. His hips shudder, before they still. His length pulses inside you so hard you can feel it in your core, and heat pools within your body as he fills you, giving you what's left of him. 

It takes a handful of moments for you both to come down. Gale is limp and heavy, pressing against you, his weight pinning you between him and the desk. His palm, resting on the small of your back, runs over your skin in slow, careful circles. Your heart thumps loud in your ears, hard in your chest, so forceful it nearly hurts. His gentle touch makes it slow, until gradually, your composure begins to return. 

I've got you, he's murmuring, the words barely audible in your ringing eardrums, but comforting just the same. Breathe for me, just breathe. 

In, and then out, you inhale, exhale. Gale props above you after a minute or two, and as you blink to chase away the remnants of fuzz in your vision, he comes into your view. He's smiling, because of course he is, strands of his hair sticking out every which way. The sight makes you grin, and you have to hold back your chuckle. Yet, the way he looks at you softens every last shred of your soul. 

His skin is flushed, still sweaty and warm. His gaze is so terribly, persistently gentle, coveting you with endless devotion. It wouldn't be the first time tonight, but you feel revered, like you can almost taste swelling blossoms of love — sweet on the tongue, growing untamed to flourish through your chest. 

Letting go of a sigh, he brushes his thumb over your cheek. You didn't think he could get any softer. But here he is, with a smile that entrances you, and an expression beaming with light itself. When he grasps your chin, pulling you in as he leans forwards, on his gentle lips, you feel the heat of the sun, and taste the calmness of a crisp summer breeze. 

Your heart skips. A sharp spark of electricity — traces of magic, surely — crackles on your mouth when yours brushes his. It zaps you like static, before flowing into you as a steady, dizzying wave. 

Your eyes stay shut. Gale pulls back for a moment. He breathes a small huff, a barely-there laugh. You swear you can feel the smile on his lips when he kisses you again — This time, much deeper, while his fingertips trace the curve of your jaw, and his mouth outlines the depths of his devotion onto yours. 

When he pulls away, he's moving to guide a quick hand behind your head. He supports you, before resting you back against the desk ever-so gently. He hisses slightly as he pulls out of you, adjusting you both. He's sighing with contentment while he grasps your thighs, changing your position to let them hang over the desk's edge more comfortably. 

At last, he props up over you. Still catching his breath, he tries to control the weighted heave of his chest as best he can manage. 

"I love you," Gale admits, his voice noticeably hoarse, but with a clear hint of fondness to it, "Are you alright?" 

"Please, I'm more than alright," You answer. You clear your throat, alleviating some of the dryness, and you roll your shoulders back. The hardwood surface of his desk beneath you suddenly feels a hundred times firmer than before. "You're okay too, aren't you?" 

Gale scoffs playfully, smirking, "Apart from a bit of present exhaustion and a mild ache in the knees, I am definitely, most positively fine. No, better than fine. Fantastic." 

Your eyes narrow, your head tilts curiously, gaze flickering down, and then back up. "And the orb?" 

"The orb? Oh," He huffs, placing a palm over his chest in realization. "Ha, it's behaving alright. Until now, I don't think it has ever felt so… comfortable, if that serves well to describe it. Swear I could almost feel the damn thing purring." 

You breathe a slight chuckle, and with a roll of your eyes, you press your palms to the desk and push yourself up. Gale hurries to wrap a hand around your wrist, placing the other on your back. He helps to pull you, until you're sitting up with your arms stretched to the ceiling. You stretch your back next, arching it forwards, feeling your muscles loosen and your bones pop. 

Gale's brows are suddenly knotted. His lips press into a line, his expression turns conflicted. When your gaze locks with his, you're giving him a slight, pretty smile. 

"What's wrong?" 

You watch as he looks away for a second, snapping his fingers, muttering a string of words under his breath you don't quite catch. He seems pouty, almost guilty; the fireplace in the room's adjacent corner hums to life, breathing much-needed warmth into his study. Your limbs relax, your shoulders untensing. 

"Nothing is wrong, sweetheart. Don't you worry," He reassures, offering you a warm look once his gaze returns to yours. His hand comes to steady on your side, and he squeezes you slightly, "I just… supposed I should offer you an apology. Perhaps it was rude of me not to provide you with more comfort. I promise you, next time, you will be as cushy and cozy as your heart could possibly desire. You'll find my bedroom to be rather pleasant, I'm sure. Have you ever slept on Glamerweave sheets? Hm, actually, I think I'll keep from spoiling the surprise." 

Next time? 

"Come on. It was my idea, you don't have to apologize," You reply through a slight laugh, shifting a bit on his desk, crossing one leg over the other. "Besides, I'm fine, I swear. I've dealt with much more than a little soreness, and I was perfectly comfortable, I'll have you know." Swallowing, you pause for a moment to think. "That was perfect. Truly." 

"Was it? Well, that is… quite lovely to hear, quite lovely indeed. I'm… I'm glad." Gale takes in a slow breath, before letting go of a deep, heavy sigh. Your words make his heart pound. "Gods above. I knew I was doomed, but I think I've only fallen even more in love with you." 

Arms wrapping around his shoulders, your head cocked teasingly, you murmur, "Do you know how hard it is to resist kissing you when you're this terribly sweet?" 

"Really?" His brow crooks. "I wonder how many kisses I could earn if I proposed more than mere sweet words. Sweet touches, perhaps? I could lend you a hand or two, you know. I'm more than willing to offer shoulder rubs, back massages- It wouldn't be right to leave my dearest with tired limbs and such sore muscles, now would it?" 

"On second thought, maybe my back is hurting. A massage sounds lovely." 

Gale grins. He reaches up, brushing his thumb over your cheek, before he pulls you in for a quick, precious kiss. 

"Then your wish is my command, love." His hand continues to hold your cheek tenderly, even once he's pulled back. Forehead close enough to almost rest against yours, he murmurs quietly, smoothly, "Once you are ready, I'll run you a warm, comfortable bath. With bubbles and lavender- Hm, I'm sure I have something around here you can wear, as far as clean clothes are concerned. You may have to make do with a few magically infused robes and garments… but nothing with any lasting effects, I assure you. And if you've worked up an appetite, then-" 

Biting his tongue, abruptly, he stops. His eyes narrow, gaze glancing between you and the floor. 

"I… My apologies," Gale mumbles, his tone weighed down by newfound disappointment, "How impolite. I shouldn't form assumptions, especially when your plans have already been reiterated. I won't keep you. As a matter of fact, I believe the side roads to Baldur's Gate are likely still open, if you'd prefer me to escort you there." 

"Gale, are you kidding?" 

You scoff, squeezing his shoulders and tilting your head; instantly, he feels himself begin to relax, his heart stirring, his nerves settling. You always look at him with such radiant warmth. 

"Running errands back and forth for greedy townspeople can wait," You're continuing, gazing at him through fluttery lashes. "I took care of everything urgent well before I got here. You wouldn't believe the nerves I had leading up to this- I was remarkably tense, but at least it had me working hard to distract myself. Listen, if you're so keen on going back, you're coming with me. Otherwise, I'm staying, okay? For as long as you'll have me." 

Gale swallows. His jaw clenches, his gaze goes soft. His pulse thrums in his throat and runs a mile per minute within his chest, heels pushing off the ground as he chases a burning sense of devotion — 

"You- Are you sure?" He questions, opening his mouth to speak once more, only to have you quickly interrupt him. 

"Of course I'm sure, I've never been more sure of anything. I can't begin to explain how much I've missed you, just- I don't want to be apart from you yet, that's all. Is… is that alright?" 

"Oh, yes, most definitely- You can stay. I would love for you to stay," Gale breathes in response, brushing his palm over the small of your back, holding you gently. Warmth and longing sear through him, echoing the start of something new. "To savor a new wealth of treasured moments with you… To awake, and see you still resting beside me, content and weary-eyed… I'm not sure I deserve to find myself so lucky." 

Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Gale breathes in deeply. "Nevertheless, the night is young. But as for tomorrow, alas, I doubt the academy would approve, in the event of my neglection of scheduled lessons. Best to be up bright and early, you see. We should rest. You, especially." He counts with his fingers, pointing to each one, "You need the aforenamed bath, massage, and to get some much needed sleep. Doubly so, if you are to- uhm, ehem-" 

Gale clears his throat, and as you meet his eyes, you raise a curious brow. Seemingly nervous, he softly mutters, "You wouldn't mind attending the lesson tomorrow to assist me for a second time, would you?" 

All at once, you're grinning. You're laughing slightly to yourself, and you're staring at him cheerfully, with a look he finds impossible not to adore. 

"I'd love to. I had fun today, and I'm sure you have much more to teach. The depths to illusion magic are rather grand. Or so a charming wizard has told me." 

"Yes, and you have merely scratched the proverbial surface. Though, in all likelihood, illusion magic should come rather naturally to you. After all, you have no shortage of firsthand experience," He explains jovially. "But still, do not discredit yourself. You are a wonderful teacher, skilled and proficient in your own right. I'm sure my students would reflect the same sentiment. You are most captivating to them. You're the hero that kept the famous city of Baldur's Gate from falling into ruin. The one who saved my life. My closest, most beloved friend. Perhaps more than that, now." 

"Definitely more," You answer, smirking a bit to hide the warmth to your cheeks. 

"In that case," Gale hums, "I will be sure to introduce you as my partner, from here on out." 

Candles flicker, shimmering like makeshift stars in his quiet study. From the view outside his balcony, the moon glimmers, beaming faint light, as though it was made just to watch over you both. Intimacy ripples between you. Echoing in your ears, you can hear the calm rhythm of waves, the familiar lull of the sea. It's a sound you've grown comfortable with. A moment you wished to dwell in until the inevitable end of time. Perhaps now, that future will be yours. 

You decide to break the brief layer of silence: "Gale?" 

Gale brushes his fingertips from your jaw to your nape, homesickness gnawing at his chest the longer he admires you. His tower was never important to him, Waterdeep couldn't compare. You were always his home. 

"Yes, love?" 

"I'm glad you're here with me." 

Silent for a few moments, he's briefly unsure of what to say. Finally, he breathes a long, thankful sigh, and smiles wide, a sparkle in his gaze. Adoration roots into him, promising to forever grow. 

"I love you. I love you so very much," He admits, cooing, his fingertips caressing your skin; his thumb trails over the faint mark he left on you while he speaks. The imprint of himself. "I will not leave you, that I can most undoubtedly promise. There are a great deal of things I want us to experience. Thousands of moments to live for. You would grace me with the privilege of dying a happy man, if I were to combust right now, in some unfortunate, bittersweet blaze of glory. But I give you my word, I am not planning on letting it happen." 

His gaze goes resolute. Gale presses a palm to his chest, feeling magic thrum steadily, and his heart pound wildly. Still beating, despite everything. Every defiant thump has your name written into it. "This affliction will not take me. We have won against greater evils, and I won't let anything pry us apart. Not when I finally have you." 

Night may have descended, cold air bitter on your skin, but in your chest, you feel the warmth of summer: growing heat, and an exquisite softness. You can't help but let go of a quiet sigh in satisfaction. 

"Now," He's murmuring, standing up straight and taking your hand. He helps you to slide off of his desk, until you're wobbling to unsteady feet, holding onto his arm for balance. "I do believe I've yammered on quite enough. I won't exhaust you with more lengthy pillow talk. You should be given the relaxation you are owed, correct? A bath will only take a few moments to run." 

"Mhm," You reply, gazing up at him, seeming amused. He finds it damn near impossible not to get lost in your eyes. "As long as you're planning on joining me." 

"Joining? Oh, sweetheart. I would be delighted." Gale squeezes your hand, still held in his. He brings it up to his lips, he runs his thumb over your knuckles. He presses an all-too gentle kiss to them, before his fingers lace between the crooks of your own. 

"Come. What remains of tonight is ours." 

You'll smell of lavender and his soap when you crawl into his bed. You'll feel the warmth of his body pressed to yours, his arms around you, your head buried in his chest, and your dreams will be as tender as they are familiar. Your future drawn out, past lifetimes upon lifetimes. 

And once the night bleeds into morning, you will fall for him all over again. 

— 

Waterdeep becomes your new home. 

It isn't long before Gale's tower is strewn with your belongings as well as his. Your old weapons and special artifacts find themselves scattered among tomes, scrolls, and poetry collections. You do manage to return to Baldur's Gate for a while, just to collect your things from the Elfsong and say a couple of goodbyes. You've landed a job as a professor's assistant in Waterdeep, you explain, and you can't be late for your first official day. 

You grow accustomed to the sea salt in your hair, and the way the smell of the ocean soaks into your skin. Gale provides you with your own set of rooms in a secluded corner of his tower. You can watch the waves from your bedroom window, and look out over the city from the view in his library. The days are slow, a calming change of pace from the previous adventures you shared together. Your other companions come to visit you both occasionally, making for a tender reunion. Months go by, but every day is new. A new chance to fall in love. Your new form of a delicate beginning. 

Deep in his bones, Gale still remembers how to cover your weak points. The signs you show when you're closer to crumbling than you're letting on, the feeling of your spells bleeding into his when they combine on the battlefield. He believes those times, those hardships, those perils, will be ones he could never forget — and yet, why would he want to? 

They're reminders of all he has to be grateful for. Mementos of when he first fell for you. You're both safe, you no longer have to fret over dark histories, or worry about protecting one another. For once, you can indulge in a life more tender, and much more forgiving. 

Gale learns what you prefer to have for breakfast, what seasonings you favor for supper, and how you like your coffee when he prepares it for you at sunrise. Between days spent at the academy and endless lesson planning, practicing spells and grading assignments, he makes what free moments you have seem special. There's dates, picnics. Quiet, simple moments that mean the entire world. 

Your head tends to rest in his lap when he's reading; sometimes aloud, his smooth voice lulling you into enveloping comfort. When you fall asleep, limbs tangled, resting on his chest, you relish in every potent thrum of his heartbeat. 

He leaves you love notes on shared grocery lists. Poems he's written for you are left on your bedside table, folded neatly, sealed with wax. You wind up keeping each one. 

Eventually, he's able to take you to all his favorite places in Waterdeep, the extravagant, and the plain. You've no need to introduce yourself, when everyone already seems to know you. 

The wizard is star-struck every time he drones on about you, the regulars at The Yawning Portal explain. Especially once he's had far too much to drink. 

I shouldn't tell you he's planning to propose, he's quite excited about the whole thing, the elderly owner of his favorite bookstore tells you. Be sure to act surprised. 

On the days where you don't accompany him, when he returns from a long afternoon spent at the academy, he's rushing upstairs to greet you. He pulls you into a long, tender hug, one you wish would last forever. His touch breathes new life into your scars, his voice becomes your favorite daily melody. In the wake of every night you spend entwined, you find yourself melting into him, further becoming one another's fatal weakness. When he holds you for a little too long, squeezing you tight and hiding faint tears in the crook of your neck, you feel loved, like you never have before. 

Soft and perfect, you are home. 

Mornings meld into tendays which bleed into months. You treasure it all, with unending adoration. The Gods didn't bless you with this, you carved your own path. You forged your own temple to be made holy in. Before you know it, your heart and soul are undoubtedly his, and on a day no different than the others, Gale is taking you somewhere you've never been before. 

Hands clasped, fingers entwined, he's bringing you to a height above the city, a cliff between the grand mountain and the edge of the sea. Wind runs through your hair. You rest your arms on the stone railing, and sink into the beauty of the sparkling ocean, sunlight glittering on white, foamy waves. He shows you the view of the city below, your city, and his, as the sun dips into the horizon — Although, it seems the only thing he can keep his eyes on is you. 

You're turning just in time to catch him staring. Gale laughs awkwardly in the beat of awkward silence. He mumbles a quick response when you ask if he's alright, offering you an utterance of, Nothing, you're just beautiful. He smiles wider as you offer him a genuine grin and a playful roll of your eyes. Soon, it becomes quiet enough to hear your own heartbeat, prancing loudly through your eardrums. The soft sound of the ocean echoes within you. 

Gale takes a slow, steady breath, catching your attention with a call of your name. This time, when you turn towards him, it's to watch him slowly lower down onto one knee. 

The silver ring he pulls from his jacket pocket was his mother's. It sparkles off of the sun's fading rays, a poem engraved on the inside in elegant script, the surface adorned in sapphire and sunstone. Your heart skips a few beats in your chest. 

You can hardly focus on his words, his vows and his confessions. But you do notice the tenderness to his expression as he glances up at you, misty-eyed, the breeze drifting through his ash-dappled hair; in this moment, everything feels right. And as he asks you to marry him, you're kneeling down as well and you're throwing your arms around his shoulders. You lean your head into his nape, you hold him as tight as you can manage, and you utter just the words he was hoping to hear. 

He is perfectly, endlessly yours. 

You say yes. 

[tinycoffeeroom]

just friends pt. 2 | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 flavy.barla liked by estebanocon, lilymhe and 64,285 others

y/nstagram me and my gf terrorise monaco 💗

flavy.barla that barista so wanted to throw that matcha at us ↳ y/nstagram because you took about 10 years deciding what drink you wanted!!! ↳ flavy.barla they all looked so good :(

fan flavs 🥹 i love their friendship so much ↳ y/nstagram wdym friendship thats my GIRL ↳ fan lando found dead in a ditch ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan SHADE

estebanocon can i have my girlfriend back now? ↳ y/nstagram nope she's mine :) ↳ estebanocon understandable

lilymhe me next!!!! ↳ y/nstagram come join us babygirl i have 2 hands xx ↳ alexandrasaintmleux what about me? :( ↳ y/nstagram we can link toes 💗

bffstagram seeing you happy makes my heart so 💝💖💕💞💓💗💘💖💕💞💓💘 ↳ y/nstagram i love you so intensely

fan still no lando like bro i'm in the trenches

liked by fan, fan and 38,948 others

f1gossipgirl ANNOUNCEMENT! We sat down with the mystery girl on all of your feeds to discuss those pictures with Lando Norris, Y/N L/N and the fallout from her recent introduction to the F1 world. Available at f1gossipgirl.com tomorrow 7PM GMT. You won't wanna miss this one!

fan not her using lando for fame

fan flop!

fan we will Not be tuning in xx

fan they better be just friends or i'm gonna be in lando's walls

fan if they're dating it's game over y/nlando'ers !!! ↳ fan bro i'll scream ↳ fan i'll cry ↳ fan i'll throw up ↳ fan i'll do all three simultaneously

fan hopefully people will leave them the fuck alone after this damn

fan not them asking her about y/n that's so shady ↳ fan if she mentions one bad word about y/n we ride at dawn

charlottehinchcliffe thank you for having me! :) ↳ fan 👀👀👀 ↳ fan homewrecker ↳ fan not too much on charlotte now we don't even know what happened

True to his word, 10 minutes later, Lando was at your door. Steeling yourself for the conversation ahead, you turn the lock and open the door to reveal a slightly out of breath Lando.

Eyeing him as he pants slightly, you lean against the doorframe. "You good?"

"Yeah!" He takes a moment to catch his breath, wiping his hands against his shorts. "I was at padel, so I had to run over."

You look at him incredulously. "The padel courts are a good 25 minutes from here, Lan, did you run here or something?"

In lieu of a verbal answer, he shrugs his shoulders, nudging his way into your apartment.

The two of you sit in silence on the sofa, both waiting for the other to begin speaking.

"I-" "So-"

You can't help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation. Never once in your friendship with Lando had you ever felt so awkward to start a conversation. You gesture towards him, "you start."

He nods, turning to face you on the sofa. "Did I do something? Like we were good until Sass Cafe, and then it's like you just dropped off the face of the earth. I missed my best friend."

Your heart breaks at the way his face drops, blaming himself for something that was completely out of his control.

"Lan, no, it wasn't you, I promise. I'm sorry for ghosting you, I just needed some time to think some things through."

You reach forward and pat his hand, a purely friendly gesture.

"You can talk to me about anything, Y/N. What's going on?" His eyes are pleading, hand twisting around to grasp your own.

Sighing, you pull your hand away from his, missing the warmth immediately. "We need to stop hooking up."

You can tell that wasn't what he thought you were going to say from the way he stiffens, eyes wide and searching your own.

"Why? Did..." He trails off for a moment, eyes drifting down to the hand you pulled from his, "are you dating someone?"

You want to scoff. The only person you wanted to date was the one you were currently pushing away. "No, Lan. I'm not dating anyone. I think everything's just become too complicated, we need to just be best friends, nothing more, nothing less."

He looks hurt, mouth trying to form words as he takes a second to process your words. "Um, ok? I'm sorry? I didn't realise things were complicated..." There's a beat of silence between you before he speaks again. "Is this about the girl I was pictured with because I promise nothing happened between us."

He's almost begging, hands half reaching forward like he wants to grab yours before he catches himself, stilling in the air.

You shake your head, smiling softly at him. "No, I spoke to Charlotte, I know nothing happened. This is simply a me and you thing. Well, a me thing, I guess. You're my best friend and I love you but I need to do this for myself."

He's about to speak when your best friend comes waltzing through the front door. "Y/N! I got pastries from the cafe down the road, come get them while they're still warm!"

Walking into the living room, she stills at the sight of you and Lando on the sofa, hand carrying a bag of pastries stuck in the air. "I'll just..." She hurries off into the kitchen before either of you can say anything.

The two of you look at each other, tension in the air broken as you both laugh softly at your best friend.

"So, still best friends?" Lando's eyes are soft as they look at you.

"Always."

He leaves soon after, a shared hug in lieu of a goodbye. At the sound of the door closing, your best friend comes running through the kitchen door. "So?"

You fall back onto the sofa, tears lining your eyes. "Hand me the damn pastries."

f1gossipgirl uploaded a new article

📍 Bahrain

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,928,784 others

landonorris bahrain brought the bahpain... p9 with some car difficulties, but we try again for monaco! congrats to oscarpiastri on the podium, lets go!

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fan bro's majestic

fan not him flopping when y/ns in the paddock ↳ fan when the camera panned to her and she looked... different... i need to know what happened ↳ fan f1gossipgirl posted an interview with the girl, nothing happened between them but we still don't know what happened between lando and y/n!! ↳ fan did you see her cheering when oscar finished p3? giggling

oscarpiastri cheers 👍🏼 ↳ fan go girl give us nothing! ↳ fan no but the photos of him and lily laughing with y/n after the race while lando was just standing in the garage watching them ↳ fan oscar is a girl's girl fr

📍 Bahrain

👤 lilynzeimer, y/nstagram liked by lilynzeimer, y/nstagram and 1,983,275 others

oscarpiastri me, my girlfriend and my girlfriend's girlfriend.

for real though, podium in bahrain is a big win for the team! shame we couldn't get more points but we regroup and prepare for monaco!

see 99,028 other comments

fan that caption is so shady im HOWLING

fan "we" aka lando norris

fan no bc something must have happened with y/n and lando for oscar to shade his own teammate

fan i love the gf's

fan the caption 😭😭 can't believe oscar admitted he's the third wheel in his own relationship ↳ oscarpiastri i've long since accepted that i am the side piece... ↳ lilynzeimer at least you're self aware ❤️

fan y/n the paddocks princess we love you

y/nstagram uploaded 2 stories

[caption 1: pasta is the way to my heart fr] [caption 2: 📍Bahrain] seen by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 79,482 others

fan MAN???? THERE IS A MAN !!!! PLEASE SAY ITS LANDO !!!! ↳ y/nstagram no it's charles! me, alex and him went out for a meal! :) ↳ fan ok best friends! love you y/n

alexandrasaintmleux the first story def looks like you're on a date ↳ y/nstagram i was... with you xxx ↳ y/nstagram people will probs think its lando 🤷‍♀️ ↳ y/nstagram unless you want me to take it down? i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea about me and charles ↳ alexandrasaintmleux you can have him tbh he keeps whining about how he's the side chick in the relationship

landonorris chill night alone huh? ↳ y/nstagram i got invited out last minute! 😁 ↳ landonorris who are you with? ↳ landonorris y/n??? ↳ landonorris fuck it i know that restaurant, i'm on my way

liked by fan, fan and 79,038 others

f1gossip Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were caught having a heated argument outside of a restaurant in Bahrain. Sources near the pair mentioned that Y/N met him outside then they were arguing about Y/N's recent instagram stories, with Lando insinuating she was on a date with one of his driver friends. He was then seen getting into a Lambourghini and leaving Y/N at the restaurant. Y/N was then flanked by Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Alexandra, who it appears Y/N was having dinner with.

See 10,275 other comments

fan i'm actually gonna fight him what the fuck

fan how can he just leave y/n there crying

fan y/n deserves so much better holy shit

fan landonorris not you flirting with another girl in sass then getting mad at y/n for *checks notes* having a meal with friends ↳ fan he wasn't flirting with charlotte, they're friends ↳ fan either way, he can't just get mad at y/n for having a potential date if they're not even together

fan did lando think y/n would openly cheat on him like that? ↳ fan not cheating if they were never together ↳ fan we don't know that ↳ fan they've said multiple times that they're just best friends, the shippers are the ones who have it in their heads that they're dating

alex's pov

👤 charles_leclerc, y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, charles_leclerc and 92,395 others

alexandrasaintmleux my girl, the chauffeur and 3 wine glasses.

fan alex unprivating her account to say a big fuck you to lando 🤭🤭🤭

fan alex doesn't play when it comes to y/n ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux

fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ur loss big man ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris ↳ fan landonorris flop ↳ fan landonorris

y/nstagram love of my life and my entire heart and soul ↳ alexandrasaintmleux my future wife 💖

charles_leclerc can't believe i've been downgraded to chauffeur ↳ y/nstagram you literally drive for a living you're basically a chauffeur,,, just faster

fan alex and y/n one chance PLEASE

fan y/ns so gorgeous ik He fumbled but i could treat you so right please please pleeeeeeasssseeeeee ♥️ y/nstagram

fan alex using the same photo as y/ns story... i'm surprised she didn't circle all three glasses and send it to Him ↳ alexandrasaintmleux what makes you think i didn't 🤔 ↳ fan queen behaviour

📍 Italy

👤 alexandrasaintmleux liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 78,298 others

y/nstagram ethereal 🤍

alexandrasaintmleux i am so in love with you coucou please run away with me i have the ring ready and waiting ↳ y/nstagram anytime, anywhere my love 💖

charles_leclerc dude please stop being more in love with my girlfriend than me, the fans are rabid i cant fight !! ↳ y/nstagram 🤷🏻‍♀️ up your game before someone (me) snatches up the baddest bitch in monaco ↳ charles_leclerc i literally paid for you to go on a couples trip with her, i am stupid ↳ y/nstagram thanks sugar daddy xx ↳ charles_leclerc using me for my money, i see how it is y/n ↳ y/nstagram for your money and your girl* why else would i keep you around? ↳ fan y/n let him get up let him get up FIGHT BACK ↳ charles_leclerc i am terrified of her ♥️ y/nstagram

fan alex is so gorgeous holy shit

fan when i'm in a loving alex competition and my opponent is y/n l/n: 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

y/nstagram uploaded a story

You text Lando the day after you got back from Italy, wrapped in the safety of your best friends arms as you fire off a quick "you can come round". Again, within ten minutes Lando was outside your door. Your best friend answered, eyes laser focused on the sheepish man in front of her.

"Fix this or I'll spread a rumour that you cry when you cum."

Lando nods frantically at her, wide eyed and fully believing she would. If there's one thing he'd learnt since befriending you, it was that your best friend would lay her life on the line for you.

She frog marches Lando through the hallway and into the living room, nodding once at you before departing to her bedroom, not even bothering to check if Lando followed her.

You let your eyes linger on her until the bedroom door shuts, slowly moving your eyes to the man stood awkwardly in the doorway of the living room.

He looked terrible, dark rings circling now dull eyes, red rimmed and rubbed raw. His face looked gaunt, sunken in cheeks and downturned lips. You watch his brows furrow as he tries to think of what to say first.

Beating him to it, you gesture to the sofa. "Sit."

He moves as if on autopilot, choosing to sit the furthest away from you, half hanging off the sofa cushion as if he was ready to bolt at any moment. You have flashbacks to the last time you two met like this and you can't help but fear that this will be the last time he ever steps foot in your apartment.

"Y/N-"

Silencing him with a wave of your hand, you allow your eyes to rake over his face one more time, just in case it was the last. "No, Lando. You've said more than enough, it's time I get to speak."

He nods in response, hands wringing nervously in his lap.

The original plan had been to let him explain and see if he would apologise for the things he said, but during your girls trip with Alex, something had changed.

The two of you were swinging softly in the hammock on the patio of the villa Charles had rented out for the two of you, Alex stroking your hair as you recalled everything that had happened from the moment you met Lando.

The shy beginnings, the budding friendship and the drunken nights spent wrapped in his bedsheets.

She'd wrapped her free arm around your sun soaked skin when you began to cry, trying to make sense of where everything had gone so wrong.

Whispering soft words of encouragement into your hair, she reminded you that no matter how much you loved him, he had no right to speak to you the way that he did, whether it be as a boyfriend, best friend or acquaintance.

Pulling yourself back into the present, you sigh quietly before speaking. "I'm not sure where we went so wrong. I love being your best friend, I really do and I would do anything for us to go back to being just that, but I think both you and I know that can't happen."

Another nod from him, shoulders tense and still as if he was holding his breath.

"The first time we hooked up after your podium in Silverstone, I assumed it would be a one off. Too many drinks, too many high spirits and despite the girls vying for your attention, you knew I was the easiest option who would never tell anyone what happened."

Lando goes to interrupt you, eyes pleading. "It wasn't like that-"

You throw him a look, a reminder that this was your time to let out everything you had been holding in since that first night.

"When I woke up and you immediately said it was a mistake, I agreed. Wrote it off as something silly. Then it happened again and again and again. Each time, before I'd even wiped the sleep out of my eyes, you'd be staring at the ceiling, reminding me that it was just a mistake. At first it didn't hurt because I'd agreed, or at least I thought I'd agreed, but then we grew closer as friends. You'd pull me on your lap for a movie night, or twirl me around before one of your parties and tell me how pretty I looked, and somewhere along the line, I fell in love."

You refused to look at him at the last sentence, too scared to see what would be reflected in his eyes.

"It was stupid to keep hooking up with you after that, but I couldn't stop myself. It felt so good to be wanted by you. Every time we'd hook up, I'd smile and agree it was a mistake then go home and cry in one of the girls' arms. The last time, after Sass, I sat down with best friend and told her everything. She reminded me that I'm worth so much more than a drunken hook up, and for once, I finally agreed."

You allowed yourself to look at Lando then, heart twisting at the sight. Tears lined guilt filled eyes, those god damn eyes. He looked like someone had just punched him in the gut, mouth open in a slight downturned pout as he stared back at you.

"That's why I became so distant, I was trying to save our friendship. And then, those photos of you and Charlotte came out and I was jealous, so fucking jealous. Here I was, tearing myself apart at home while you were busy hitting on other girls." Ignoring the affronted noise from Lando, you continue. "I know now that wasn't the case, but it hurt so much. I genuinely felt like my heart was breaking in two."

Wiping the few tears that fell down your cheeks with the back of your hand, you smiled softly at him. "Then we met up and everything became a bit easier. I thought maybe we could, well I could, work through this. I could unlearn to love you and we could be best friends again."

Lando lets out a noise akin to a whine, tears finally escaping his eyes, dripping down to his chin. You resist the urge to reach out and brush them away, your own tears marring your vision.

"That night in Bahrain, I really had just wanted to stay at home and get an early night. Then Alex had texted me, and you know her, the girl doesn't take no for an answer." You try and laugh, the sound coming out flat and warbled at the same time. "I was trying to not be on my phone too much and that's why I didn't reply to your other messages. Charles offered to go out and speak to you but that wasn't fair on him, this wasn't his mess to fix."

Seeing Lando stare at you so gloomily from your sofa was becoming a little too much for you to handle, soft sobs echoing between the two of you. You stand from the sofa, moving to the window in your living room, eyes trained on the setting sun.

"The things you said that night really hurt, Lando. We've never argued in the entire time we've been friends, not even a little friendly one. You were so angry at the idea of me seeing one of your driver friends and I couldn't figure out why. We'd joked about me dating one of them before, hell, you even asked if I wanted Daniel's number after we snuck off at that house party to tie all your shoelaces together before he starting seeing Heidi..."

This time, Lando successfully cuts you off. "Do you really not know why?" His voice is gravelly, molasses thick around the edges.

Shaking your head, you hear him stand up from the sofa too, sock clad feet shuffling against the hardwood floor. When he speaks next, you can tell he's right behind you.

"I was jealous." The sound of him ruffling his hair floats through the silence between you. "When we met up and you said you wanted to stop hooking up, even if you were adamant that you weren't seeing someone new, I couldn't get that thought out of my head. Sure, our friendship is, was, a bit unconventional, but I thought it worked. I thought we worked. I had no idea it was hurting you and so when it ended, that was the only reason I could think of."

Looking through the glass of the window, your eyes lock with Lando's, his stare equal parts intense and regretful.

"And then I thought you were blowing me off in Bahrain and it was like a switch flipped. The thought of you ignoring me and being with someone who wasn't me made me feel sick to my stomach. It's the same feeling I get when you show me a silly meme Logan sent you or when I saw you and Dan giggling quietly and having to hold each other up in my hallway."

Gaze unwavering, he studies your face through the window pane. "Can you turn around and look at me properly, please?"

Unable to ignore the pleading in his voice, you turn slowly on the spot. The two of you are less than a foot apart, a few inches closer and you'd be able to see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

"There you are." A small smile crosses his lips. "I thought it was anger at you blatantly avoiding me, but then I remembered how my first thought when the photos of me and Charlotte came out wasn't 'my PR team's gonna fucking kill me', it was 'I need to tell Y/N it isn't true'."

He shuffles closer, hand reaching out to rest against your jaw. Using his thumb to swipe the stream of tears flowing down your face, he lowers his voice to a whisper.

"Every time I told you that us hooking up was a mistake, I was wrong. The mistake was me not realising how ridiculously in love I am with you."

You try to speak, a small whine escaping your lips, only audible because of the quietness of the apartment.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I should have never spoken to you like that in Bahrain. I only ever want to see you happy, to see your nose scrunch at how wide you're smiling, to hear you laugh loud and unabashedly. Knowing I hurt you, and have been hurting you for months, breaks my heart and I'm so angry at myself for not letting you explain. I love you and I want to be with you, but I understand I've hurt you and it's ok if you don't want that too."

Tears glimmer in his eyes again, smile soft and warm but tinged with remorse. He scans your face, looking for your answer in lieu of a verbal one.

Reaching a shaking hand up to cover his on your jaw, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to savour the warmth of his palm. "I want that. I want to love and be loved by you."

You open your eyes, meeting his brightened gaze.

"Really?" He sounds and looks awestruck, the weight of possibly losing you physically dropping off his shoulders, his body relaxing as he melts at the sight of you smiling gently. "You're sure?"

You nod, matching his fond smile. "I'm sure."

His thumb traces your bottom lip, eyes drawn to the movement. Before he can ask, you use your free hand to grab the front of his t-shirt, dragging him until the two of you are pressed chest to chest.

"Kiss me, Lando."

His name gets muffled as he presses his lips to yours fervently. Warm, syrup soaked and something that could only be described as Lando. Not a trace of alcohol, a distant memory of how this normally went. You decide then and there that this was your favourite taste.

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, eliminating any possible space that could come between the two of you. Each time your lips part, he whispers a soft "I love you", the sound being inhaled by you.

Slipping an arm around your waist and digging his fingers into the flesh, he revels in your gasp, tongue slipping between your lips to find your own.

Your body flares up at the feeling, each nerve ending scorching hot and tinging with electricity. You whisper "I love you's" back with each parting, one hand still wrapped in the fabric of his t-shirt as the other slides up the back of his shirt, tracing the map of his muscles.

You giggle as he shivers at the touch, finally allowing the two of you to breathe as he joins you, the kiss becoming more teeth than lips. He drags you into his arms, the hand in your hair moving down to interlink with the one wrapped around your waist.

Nudging his nose against your temple, he moves his head until his lips are level with your ear.

"Be mine?"

You hum into his neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin. "I already was."

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintleux and 11 others

y/npriv not one mean comment, that's boyfie!

lilymhe 🤐 ↳ flavy.barla 🤐 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux 🤐 ↳ francisca.c.gomes 🤐 ↳ lilynzeimer 🤐 ↳ heidiberger_ 🤐 ↳ carmenmmundt 🤐 ↳ kellypiquet 🤐 ↳ iamrebeccad 🤐 ↳ landonorris were you silent or were you silenced ↳ alexandrasaintmleux don't even try it norris

francisca.c.gomes on a real note, i'm happy for you, truly 💗 (please tell me he grovelled) ↳ landonorris i was 2 seconds away from getting down on my knees and begging ↳ francisca.c.gomes good. ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux, lilynzeimer, lilymhe, heidiberger_, carmenmmundt, kellypiquet, iamrebeccad, flavy.barla

lilymhe how did you even get in here landonorris ↳ landonorris begged her to let me in ↳ lilynzeimer you seem to be doing a lot of begging recently ↳ landonorris ??? you're meant to be the nice one ↳ lilynzeimer blame my boyfriends influence :)))))

📍Miami

liked by y/nstagram, carlossainz and 1,028,982 others

landonorris P1. Grand Prix Winner. It wasn't too much for little lando norris... feels absolutely surreal, I'll post something more eloquent when I've stopped shaking 🧡

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fan GRAND PRIX WINNER LANDO NORRIS !!!!! THAT FEELS SO GOOD TO TYPE!!!!

carlossainz congratulations muppet, lets get drunk!!!!! ♥️ landonorris ↳ scuderiaferrari not too drunk mr sainz

maxverstappen1 proud to come second to you, mr norris! congratulations 💙 ♥️ landonorris

oscarpiastri proud of you bud! ♥️ landonorris

danielricciardo HE RACES LIKE A LION, SHOULDN'T HE BE DUTCH ♥️ landonorris

pitstopboys time to get back in the studio!

mclaren never doubted you, papaya forever! 🧡 ↳ landonorris papaya forever!!

y/nstagram so beyond proud,,, soak it all in lan ❤️ ↳ landonorris i'm so happy i flew you out for this one ↳ fan Y/NLANDO ARE BACK????? MY KING AND QUEEN????? ↳ fan i hope he was crying, screaming and begging on his knees to get y/n back ↳ landonorris i was prepared to ↳ fan LANDO????

fan y/n running at him full pelt and knocking them over in parc ferme... my parents fr ↳ fan the way he didn't cry until he saw y/n's smile... im lying down on the highway

fan y/nlando make up, lando wins a grand prix... she's his good luck charm ♥️ landonorris

liked by landonorris, bffstagram and 89,728 others

y/nstagram my love, my light, my grand prix winner. words can't even begin to describe how proud i am of you. forever in awe of all that you do ❤️

landonorris i love you so much, i couldn't have done this without you my love ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram i love you, come give me another kiss RIGHT NOW ↳ landonorris 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️

bffstagram everyone cheer i didn't have to go to jail!! ♥️ y/nstagram

fan HARD LAUNCH??? ↳ y/nstagram lbr we've been unknowingly hard launching for a while now hahahaha

fan ok cute and all but i still haven't forgiven him for bahrain ↳ y/nstagram well i have, and honestly that's all that matters ↳ fan just don't want to see you hurt y/n ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram and i love you for that 💖 but we're all good, i promise

fan ik the grovelling was Excellent for her to dedicate a whole post to him ↳ y/nstagram just wanna celebrate my boyfie 🫶🫶 (it was) ↳ landonorris say that again ↳ y/nstagram my boyfriend ❤️ ↳ fan yeah y'all are cute and all but i'm perpetually single and a hater so out of my replies (love you guys)

estebanocon loving mitski lyrics!!!!! he did it guys!!!! ↳ y/nstagram loving mitski lyrics!! also thank you este, i owe you and flavy lunch! ↳ flavy.barla do we have to invite him? ↳ estebanocon sometimes it do be your own girlfriend ♥️ y/nstagram

alexandrasaintmleux i'm still your favourite though? :( ↳ francisca.c.gomes actually, that's me ↳ lilymhe no me ↳ y/nstagram before y'all start this again, my gaggle of girlfriends will always be my favourite 💝 ♥️ alexandrasaintmleux, lilynzeimer, lilymhe, heidiberger_, carmenmmundt, kellypiquet, iamrebeccad, flavy.barla ↳ landonorris i love me, my girlfriend and my girlfriends 10 girlfriends ↳ lilymhe hey, we had her first! ♥️ y/nstagram

charlottehinchliffe so happy for you two!!! 🩵 ↳ y/nstagram thank you!! i hope you're well! 💜

kellypiquet what was that about max being behind lando? ↳ y/nstagram KELLY ↳ y/nstagram i reverse manifested it, lando ur welcome for your win xx ↳ landonorris ??? ↳ y/nstagram i forgot you weren't on my priv until recently, ignore that ❤️

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well, part 2 is a little bit of a long one! i had so much fun working on this and i hope it lives up to your expectations! ♡ (to the anon who wanted lando to cry, this is for you)

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