#send help…and nudes…of Gale!

[sweetestlittledarling]

And now all my favorite Gale scenes from the Holiday TikTok special because I am far too obsessed with this man!

Happy Holidays everyone!

[cilliansmesoftly]

like a wrecking ball

pairing: john/buck egan x fem!reader

summary: you send buck sensual photos while he’s stationed

warning: talk of nude photos, dirty talk, sensual letters, inaccuracies about war, smut, oral (first time munching box 🐱) (fem! receiving), overstimulation, etc.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ what started off as marge taking pictures of you getting ready for a party, putting on lipstick and fluffing up your hair, ended with you asking marge if you could borrow her camera for a couple of days to take some photos for buck.

it was all in good fun. some ones with you crossed eyed, smiling, goofy and carefree. however, something possessed you to slip the strap of your dress off your shoulder click take the clip from your hair, letting down your loose, soft hair click and snap the clasp from your bra click.

you don’t know what came over you. you took over fifteen pictures in sensual poses, as if posing for a professional boudoir photoshoot. gosh, if anyone ever saw these, you thought. they’d have me carted off to the brothel or put into an asylum.

and what’s worse than that, you’d mustered up the courage to actually send them! with your stationary neatly stacked at your desk, your ink pen furiously wrote to your deployed lover.

My Love, I hear the war is getting harder. There’s no telling what you have to attest to that statement, they say Germany is killing our Air Force and I can’t help but to think of you. Fighting your hardest, having trouble sleeping at night, losing friends, losing family.

And even in all of this, I still feel sorry for myself for missing you. Everyone notices how miserable I am without you here. Without your touch, your smile, your kiss. Golly, even my mother visits! And you know how she is with me and boys, totally mentally insane.

Anywho, how is my love? And how is Gale? Marge misses him terribly. She has a sneaky suspicion that he is going to ask her to marry him.. though I think she may be going a bit stir crazy from not being with him, but who am I to talk?

Our girls are doing our best here, I work the soup kitchen most days for the people out of jobs and soldiers who have come home injured. My classes are going terribly, my focus only seems to train on you and what you’re doing, and if you’re safe.

I’m sending some pictures for you, John. Marge let me borrow her camera and the film just got back to me today, so I hope you enjoy. I miss you, love. I can’t wait for you to be back in my arms and within my reach. For now, take these photos and do with them what you like. Imagine me there, John. Just how I imagine you here with me. Oh, and please, please, please, do not let anyone see these!

Your Girl,

Y/N

you kissed the letter with scarlet stained lips, enclosed the envelope set with your photos, and sent it off, staring out of the window as the mailman carried it off to be shipped overseas, in the air, and into john’s trusted hands.

★

“mail!” a soldier shouted in the quiet cafeteria. men, all in matching green uniforms, scrambled to get up and horde the poor guy. he passed letters and packages around, assigning them with a last name shouted before he handed it to the rightful owner. “egan.” he said, dropping a single envelope signed with pretty cursive writing on the front.

“who’s it from?” gale asked sarcastically. he knew his friend was smitten with his girl from back home and she was one of the few- or rather only- person he took the time to write to.

“take a guess, clevens.” john replied smugly, tearing open the letter quite clumsily, the tear all jagged and the envelop ripped down the corner. out of that tear, a photo caught the eye of john. he squinted. “she sent photos.” he told gale.

“really? marge never sends me photos.” he mutters jealously. gale watched his friend’s face blush a bright red, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “what? what is it?”

“that’s for me to cherish, and for you… to never find out.” john smiled up at his friend. he took one of the many pictures out of the envelope completely and turned it many ways to look at all perspectives of your beauty. the way your hair fell over your eyes as you gazed lustfully at the camera lens. the way the intricate lace of your bra strap led down to the see-through fabric over your breast. he could see you perfectly. though the camera isn’t the most expensive and definitely not the most defined, john could tell you took your time making sure these photos were worth his while.

“damn, major. who is this beautiful dame?” lieutenant curtis was peaking over john’s shoulder and john slammed the picture down onto the table before he could see anymore of his girl.

“that’s mine, curt. you’ll have to find your own.” curtis made a booing sound and walked off playfully glum. “god, this girl’s gonna be the death of me.”

“are you gonna explain or am i gonna have to snatch the picture while you aren’t looking?” gale asked, running a hand through his blond hair.

“you ain’t seeing the pictures, nobody’s seein’ them but me.” john shook his head, a light blush still creeping up his neck, up his ears. “she sent nudie pictures.” he laughed under his breath, shoving the pictures deep into his pocket.

“what? let me see!” gale leaned forward, smiling from cheek to cheek.

“what?” john scoffed. “hell, no. i’m gonna marry this girl.” he leaned back away from the table, so gale couldn't grab him and force the photos out of his pocket. “hell, i ain’t even read the letter yet.”

“better get to writing a hell of a response. she won’t send anymore if you send some half-assed letter back, man.” gale laughed, taking a sip of coffee.

john finally took the letter out of the envelope, it still smelled like her. he brought it up to his nose and thought fondly of his beautiful girl back home. he missed her more than anything. unfolding the parchment, he smiled at her greeting, her penmanship was unlike any other. curling, twirling cursive letters filled the page and he caught a glimpse of the lipstick mark at the bottom of the page. oh, to kiss her lips again, buck thought.

his eyes scanned every word more than twice. he could hear her voice within the written words.

“she asked how you were doing.” buck told gale whose eyebrows lifted in gratefulness. “she also says that marge thinks you’re going to ask her to marry you.”

“damn it!” gale huffs, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. “how does she know?”

“don’t know, man.” john laughs as he takes out a piece of paper from his pocket, always on hand for something like this, when he has to get to work immediately on writing you back.

My Beautiful Girl,

There’s nothing I want more than to be with you right now. In my arms, in my bed, all alone. No one but us, my sweet girl.

When I get back, I’m going to keep you to myself for a whole week. And those pictures? I never knew you to be so dirty. You should’ve seen my face when I opened up the envelope. I was about as red as a ripe tomato.

I long for nothing more than to kiss those sweet lips, your shoulders, your smooth legs, all of you. I am going to come home to you. I’m gonna crash through the front door and hold onto you until forever falls apart. There’s only a few more months until we’re together again, for good, hopefully.

And to answer your questions, I’m doing okay. we’re losing a lot of men, really quickly. I can’t help but to keep offering to go on missions, just so it doesn’t go haywire. Gale is also planning on asking Marge to marry him, but don’t you dare tell her. He was doing great until I told him about her correct accusations. He is currently laying his head down on the table and holding his hands to his head in despair.

My girl, I love you so much. Trust in this, I am always yours and no one will see these pictures but me, admiringly. I always imagine you with me. You’re with me when I sleep at night, when I’m up in the air, and especially in my heart. You keep me safe without even knowing, angel.

Love, John

★

just as john said in his letter, a few months and he’d be home. months turn into weeks, weeks turned into days, and days turned into hours. today was the day and you had been preparing since the sun first rose in the morning.

marge had also been on edge, their plane was to arrive at the tarmac at three in the afternoon. you and marge spent the day scrubbing, shaving, spritzing, and dressing. after that, you spent a few minutes straightening up the house and making sure there was some food warming up for him when he got home. even so, the hangar was only a few minutes down the road.

it was about a quarter past two now and marge was supposed to be with you about fifteen minutes ago. to say you were antsy would be a major understatement. you couldn’t keep the ball of your heel from bouncing on the floor, your poor nails had been chewed off hours ago.

a knock on the door knocked you out of your anxious daze and you sprang up from the couch to answer it.

marge’s glowing face entered your sight and you sighed in relief.

“you’re late.” you hugged your best friend tightly, then ran into the kitchen to grab your purse before meeting marge on the porch, closing and locking the door.

“i know, i’m sorry. i really don’t have an excuse, i was just so anxious so i drove a bit slower.” she admitted, which helped you feel a lot better. at least you weren’t alone.

“we shouldn’t be this nervous, really.” you sighed, walking down the sidewalk to marge’s car. you opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. marge followed suit and sat in the driver’s side, quickly cranking the key and speeding off to the airport. the plane was due to arrive at three, so you only had about fifteen minutes until you got to see your favorite person in the world.

"should we stand at the gate or try to get onto the actual tarmac?" marge questioned, looking around at all the other wives and girlfriends standing around.

"there's a guard at the gate, we'll just ask him if we can get in." you pointed at the man in a vest, a security badge pinned to his chest. you and marge waltzed up to the man with kind smiles painted on your lips. "hi, sir. how are you today?"

"just fine, and yourselves?" the man smiled warmly.

"absolutely dandy." marge grinned. "so, listen, we were just wondering. are we allowed to go onto the tarmac or do we have to wait behind the gate?"

"i can allow you on the tarmac, but do you see those cones over there?" he pointed behind him to bright orange cones lined up down the asphalt. the girls hummed in agreement. "you can't get more than thirty feet near them. that's where the plane will land and roll in and i will not be taking responsibility for a bunch of soldiers' wives getting run over because they decided not to listen, understand?" the man looked back to the women who nodded with wide eyes. "okay, let me open this." he fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the gate, pushing it open so the girls could come in and await their loves.

marge checked the gold watch on her wrist. "should be about five minutes, y/n."

"i feel like i need to puke. do you feel like you have to puke?" you sputtered out quickly and marge placed her hands on your shoulders to calm you down.

"hey, there's nothing to be nervous about. john is a good man, a good man who misses you, okay? you have nothing to worry about except getting pregnant in the next twenty-four hours." marge giggled when you gasped.

"marge! watch your mouth or they'll carry you away." you two laughed before the distant sound of a plane rattled the ground beneath your feet. you looked up and there it was. the plane that carried your john back to you, safe and sound. you sighed, saying a quick prayer, before watching the plane land safely and roll into the hangar.

the wives were muttering relentlessly. it had been a few minutes since the plane got here and no soldiers had yet to step out. but finally, finally, a group of men all dressed in matching green jumpsuits and carrying the same bag came running out of the hangar in search of their reasons for fighting as hard as they did. marge spotted gale, his golden blonde hair flowing in the wind as he ran to her. he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her like it was from a movie. y/n laughed and clapped for her best friends, but she couldn't help but wonder where john was.

"hey, y/n. how are ya, girl?" gale walked up to the worrisome girl with his arm around marge's waist.

"i'm fine, gale! oh, we've missed you and john so much." she sighed as he wrapped his free arm around her in an embrace. "where is john, by the way?"

gale looked behind him and there he was, almost as if in slow motion. he was just as dreamy as the day she met him.

before she could stop herself, her feet picked up a quick pace and soon enough she was running to him, grinning and laughing. when she reached him, he dropped his duffle bag onto the floor and pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.

“oh, my sweet y/n.” john muttered into her hair. she smelled so good. she smelled like home. he missed her like hell. and if she wasn’t half of his heart, there’s no way he would’ve survived. “i missed you so much.”

he let her down so her feet could touch the ground, but made no move to let her out of his embrace. y/n cupped the sides of his face and brought him into a searing kiss. a kiss that said everything she couldn’t. how grateful she was that he was home, that he’s safe, back in her arms. “i missed you so much more.”

“not possible.” he said against her lips.

“hey, if y’all don't mind i’d like to go home!” gale shouted at the couple, teasingly. marge playfully slapped him against his chest in scolding. he just laughed and grabbed her hand, leading her back to the gate.

“i guess we should go.” y/n sighed against him. john pouted and whined dropping his head to her shoulder. “the faster we get home, the faster you get to see all the new pictures i have.”

with that, he grabbed his bag off the ground and y/n’s hand, leading her to marge and gale, albeit very quickly.

★

marge dropped y/n and john off at her home, speeding off with a wave out of the window.

“i missed this place.” john said, looking up at the small house. y/n grabbed his hand gently and led him up the stairs of the porch. when they walked in, it smelled of a home cooked meal and pure love to john. “what’d you make, angel?”

“some steak,” she replied, walking in front of him to open the oven that was keeping the food warm. she felt john’s presence behind her, warm and inviting. “potatoes,” john wrapped his arms around her waist, his lips tickling the nape of her neck. her breath hitched as she leaned back against him. “and i baked a pie.”

“mmm, what kind?” his lips were right near her ear and he kissed the skin behind it, a light gasp leaving her pretty lips.

“cherry.”

“my favorite.” he turned her around and captured her lips in a kiss, lost in her already. she was breathless. this is all she had been waiting for, yearning every day and even worse at night. she missed his touch, his kiss, his everything. “those photos you sent drove me crazy, baby. took everything i had not to just tape it to the windshield of my plane.”

“there’s more.” she whispered, his lips all over her neck, sucking bruises that she would have to hide with a turtle neck. “you wanna see?”

he growled against her skin as she dragged him into the bedroom. she pushed him to sit on the bed, noticing the already prominent bulge in his green army pants. she kneeled down between his legs, eye contact heavy between them. john shifted where he sat, ready for anything she was about to give him. instead, she reached for the black box under her bed and placed it on his thighs.

“open it.” she sat back on her calves, watching him open the box with a brow lifted quizzically.

inside were more than 30 developed pictures, in all their vulgar glory. john let out a sigh and sat up straighter. he picked up a few and sorted through them, y/n was posed with a white lacy set adorning her body and light makeup on her face. she was in front of a mirror, playing with herself. she could hear his breath catch in his throat. he stared at each photo, getting harder by the second.

“do you like them?” she asked, he brought his attention back down to his girl. her big doe eyes looking pleading and seductive at the same time. she was still sitting back on her legs and the way she had her hands clasped in front of her made her arms push her breasts together, giving john a teasing view of her cleavage.

“like them? b-baby, i want these burned into my memory.” he stuttered over his words and that’s how y/n knew she had him wrapped around her finger. the usually stoic, firm, but kind man she fell in love with is gradually falling apart at the seams, all because of her. “y’know what, though?”

“hm?”

“i think i prefer the live action version.” the smirk on his face was deep, setting smile lines onto the left side of his face.

“well, good thing you got it for the rest of your life, baby.” she sat up on her legs, placing her hands on the tops of his thighs for stability. john leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled back. he groaned, his mouth open and waiting for her to crash into him.

“i’d rather you not tease me right now, angel.” he breathed against her lips. y/n just giggled and took the box from his lap, placing it back under the bed. she stood to her full height and john wrapped his arms around her hips, letting her sit herself on his lap. she gasped when she felt how aroused he was. “kiss me.”

“not yet.” she smiled, leaning away from his lips. “let me undress you?”

john agreed and let her pull his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants. she flung the fabric somewhere behind her and giggled. his toned chest was warm and soft, she grazed her fingers over every freckle and mole that she had missed so much, kissing over every one she saw. she let her hands drag down to his belt that she skillfully unbuckled while maintaining eye contact with her lover.

john was going absolutely insane, he had never seen this side of her before. so powerful, so in tune with both of their bodies, and ever so confident. he was enchanted.

“can we try something?” he asked suddenly when she pulled his belt through the last loop.

“what’s that, baby?” she started to kiss his neck, licking and sucking all over the soft skin and john moaned while trying to get his words out.

“the g-guys were talking about- fuck, how good it is to eat pussy.” he whined when y/n stopped in her tracks. she detached her lips from his body and leaned back to look at him.

“you wanna try that?” she looked shocked.

john nodded submissively, blush rushing to the tops of his ears and creeping down his neck.

“just lie down, i’ll take care of you.” he cradled her neck in his large hand. he brought the other one to the buttons of her dress, slowly taking each one out. when he caught sight of the bralette adoring her figure, he brought his head down to kiss at the top of her skin and the lacy fabric. “i’m liking all this new underwear, baby.”

“all just for you.” she whispered. she carded her fingers through his hair, her head tilted back in pleasure at the magic he was working on her body. she was soaked and he had barely even done anything.

john took the rest of her dress off and lifted her to stand, it dropped to her feet onto the floor and she stepped out of it. he laid her back down, propping a pillow behind her head.

“you still okay?” he asked, kissing down her belly. her answer was breathy and barely audible, but he heard it, so he continued. his fingers grazed the hem of her white panties, a pink bow adorning the middle. the innocence of it all made john’s head feel dizzy. he slowly dragged her underwear down her legs, savoring every moment with her. “let me know what feels good, honey.”

“oka-” her voice failed her as john brought his lips up to her swollen bud. if he was new at this, he sure was a fast learner. his tongue was circling her clit, but trailed down to her entrance that was sopping with arousal. as soon as he got his first taste, john wrapped his arms around the backs of her thighs and brought her closer to his mouth. “oh, my god.”

“feel good?” he muttered quickly, going back to licking and slurping as if his life depended on it.

“fucking unreal.” her head was thrown back, fingers digging into the pillow behind her. her hips were bucking onto john’s face, forcing his nose to bump her clit. she felt his fingers prodding at her and she mewled, her back arching against the bed. “won’t last, if you do that.”

“that’s the whole point, sweets.” he was smiling against her. her overstimulation was amusing to him.

“wanna come on your cock, baby.” he groaned against her core, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. her eyes were clenched so tightly, she wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up wrinkled on the lid.

begrudgingly, he pulled back, kneeling in front of her. he made sure to look into her eyes as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, moaning around them at the sweet taste of her. “tastes like honey, baby.”

“i’m sure you taste better.” she flirted back, her eyelashes fluttering. and as much as he would love to shove his cock down her throat, her cunt was much more appealing at the moment.

“maybe tomorrow. tonight’s about you, doll. and how much i missed you.” his belt had already been undone by her, so all he had to do was unbutton them and let them fall to the floor. “do you wanna know how i spent my nights?” he mounted his sweet girl, a knee between her legs and his arms holding himself up to look into her eyes. “i had a room to myself, y’know.. bein’ major comes with some perks. i’d take out those photos you sent me.. every night. like fuckin’ clock work.” she could feel him lining himself up with her entrance. the head of his cock prodding at the greedy hole that was oh so eager to take him. “i’d picture you there, running your hands all over me, like you always do. latchin’ yourself onto me. lovin’ me so good…”

her eyes were sparkling under the warm lights of the lamps on the beside tables. her bottom lip was quivering with need, her back arching up to try and get him to slip into her, but every time she bucked her hips, he would pull just inches away. she was writhing beneath him, aching to have him in her. “bucky, please.”

“hang on, darlin’.” john was smiling ear-to-ear. he knew what he was doing to her, he loved to see her all riled up just for him. “i’d fuck my fist every night to those sweet pictures.. just counting the days until i’d see you again. til i could kiss you again, til i could fuck you again.”

he kissed the side of her neck before thrusting himself all the way into her cunt. the stretch was euphoric to her after not having anything but her fingers, that she could not work as well as john could. she hissed in pleasure as he pulled out, just to the tip, and thrusted in harder, setting a nice and steady pace.

“faster.” she breathed against his lips. he obliged quickly, pressing into her harder and faster than he had before. she was clawing her nails down his back, and he whimpered into her neck. he thought his fantasies were good? this was a hundred times better than anything his mind could’ve conjured up. she was squeezing so tight he could barely pull out, but god was it amazing. he couldn’t make his mind think about anything but her. “you feel so good, buck. better than i dreamed.”

“you been dreamin’ about me too, sweetheart?” he kissed her cheek, chin, and lips. he swiped his tongue over her bottom lip and she opened her mouth wider, letting him taste all around. she could faintly taste herself on his tongue and she moaned at the vulgarity of it all.

john snuck his fingertips down her belly, tracing her skin on the way down to her swollen clit, he circled it in slow, smooth movements. y/n threw her head back with her bottom lip between her teeth.

“cmon baby. give it to me.” he growled in her ear. his hips were losing their rhythm and he refused to come before her. “come for me, darlin’.”

she held her hand to the back of his neck, keeping him latched to her chest. john sucked and bit over her chest, leaving dark marks all along her skin. her thighs were trembling in pleasure as john worked himself faster against her hips. the only sounds in the room were the couple’s lewd and borderline pornographic curses falling from their swollen lips and skin slapping against skin. john could feel her core clenching tighter and tighter and he knew that coil in her belly was about to snap.

“john, i’m coming.” her voiced was pinched as she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at his lower back. she moaned even louder as he hit even deeper, hitting that spot inside of her so well, she was seeing stars.

“give me all you got, baby.” he whispered against her chest, his fingers still working circles against her clit. she pressed her nails into his skin, surely leaving bloody red marks all over his freckled back. her climax hit her like a train and then it hit her again and again in the most intense aftershocks she had ever had, she was leaking all over his cock and john look down to where the two of them were connected, wet and slick in both of their arousal. the sight alone had him coming inside of her with a loud groan, and collapsing onto her.

while the two of them caught their breath, john’s head perked up with a mischievous smirk on his face.

“what?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“you still got that camera from marge? i’d love to take some pictures of us that we both can enjoy.”

[unreadpoppy]

send nudes

Raphael x Fem!Tav (modern AU)

Summary: Raphael is bad at sexting

A/N: This was based on a conversation i had between @flamemittens @sky-kiss and @sassyandsodone

Tav had finally manage to get the phone number of the man she had had a crush on for some time, Raphael. And although he was charming in real life, he text messaged as if he were in the 1800’s. 

Raphael: Tav. 

Come to my house at the eighth hour of the night. Let us enjoy a good merlot. 

Raphael.

Tav: You do know you don’t have to sign your messages, right? I know it’s you.

Raphael: Tav.

Are you coming or not. Answer immediately.

Raphael.

Tav: 🤦‍♀️I’ll be there in a sec. 

In the following months, he had gotten slightly better at not sounding like someone’s grandpa, but there was still room for progress. One time, while she was at work, Tav nearly choked on her coffee when receiving the following message. 

Raphael: Little mouse, bestow upon me that delicious mortal form of yours in pictorial format. 

Tav spent a good five minutes looking at their screen. Was Raphael asking for nudes? Then, another message appeared. 

Raphael: Perhaps if you were to grace me with your naked form, I would deign to reward you with a similar favour, pet.

Somehow, the follow up was even more confusing. She decided to consult with her friends.

Tav: Guys, help me. Raphael sent me some messages that I can’t understand

Lae’zel: I always knew you were stupid, but not understanding messages is a new one

Wyll: You are still talking with that guy?

Astarion: Don’t judge her, dear Wyll. You have had your history with…questionable partners. 

Wyll: 🙄you’re one to talk

Tav: Anyways, he sent me some messages but I’m having a hard time understanding them. Can you guys decipher it? 

Gale: Sure thing, Tav! Send them in and we’ll see what we can do. 

*Tav sent a photo*

Astarion: …

Wyll: …

Gale: …

Karlach: Is he… is he asking for nudes??? 

…

Meanwhile, Raphael’s phone was suddenly taken from his hands. 

“By the hells, what is wrong with you, Raphael?” Haarlep asked exasperated. “Just say send nudes and be done with it.” 

“I cannot be direct about this sort of thing, or else, where is the fun?” He tried to reason. 

Haarlep put a hand on their face and sighed. “You’ll never see tits if you keep talking like this.” They showed the screen to Raphael. “Look! The poor thing hasn’t answered in 10 minutes. I don’t think she even understood what you sent.”

“Tav is perfectly capable of understanding my way of talking.”  Haarlep typed something and then hit send. 

“Done. Let’s see if this works.” 

…

While Tav’s groupchat was becoming a mess over the screenshot she sent of Raphael’s conversation with her, she received another message from him. ‘Speaking of the devil’ she thought. 

Raphael: Send tits for cock. 

Tav immediatly forwarded that to the groupchat.

Tav: Karlach was right. It was nudes. 

Karlach: KNEW IT!

Shadowheart: Why is he suddenly so direct?

Gale: You’re not going to send him nudes, are you? You’re literally at work right now! 

Tav: That’s none of your business, Gale. And idk, Shart. Anyways, gotta go now, byee

Tav made a quick run to the bathroom and sent a picture she already had on her phone. It was a bit old but it would do the job.

*Tav sent a picture* 

Tav: I can’t send one from right now, but I’ll hope you’ll be satisfied with this 

Raphael: My, my, I am quite satisfied. You have a plentiful bosom, little mouse. Very well, here is your reward. 

*Raphael sent a picture*

Tav felt the blood rushing to her face when looking at his messages. She’d only hope she would get home soon. 

Raphael: As much as I would enjoy to continue this lovely conversation, I am afraid I have to leave. 

Tav: We can continue this once I get home.

Raphael: Of course. As you know, roses are red, violets are blue. I'm into poetry, but I'd rather be in you. 

Tav barked out a laugh from inside the bathroom. 

Tav: Oh sweetie, we’re gonna have to work on your sexting once I get there. Till’ later, bye.

Raphael showed his phone to Haarlep. “What is ‘sexting?’”

Haarlep threw themselves on a nearby bed, dramatically putting an arm to cover their face. “You are impossible.” 

[manicpixie-tieflingboyfriend]

Not enough Wyllyam Ravengard filth out there I need to do my part so Aerdir is getting the dd (Duke dick) treatment this fine 8am

(yes it took me 2 and a half hours to finish this leave me alone)

So going back to the blowjob to wake up a partner post, I think it would be appropriate and fitting if it were the first thing they Ever did together.

Aerdir isn't hypersexual during the events of the game for a lot of reasons that mainly deal with his past, but him and Wyll take a lot of slow steps to get there, and one of them, perhaps, is they sleep in the nude one night. Nothing crazy, no accidental heated moments, just a couple kisses and getting used to seeing each other naked, because I feel like that's a super underrated intimacy thing! Like you've NEVER seen someone naked before your first time? Why?? Walk around nudist style for a week get obsessed first!

anyway. coughcough.

Aerdir probably feels a little bad that the first time they do just lay around nude he's automatically thinking he wants to fuck this guy so bad. But they already have a relationship, that's a normal want! He doesn't get why he feels bad. Maybe it's because Wyll has to get used to his body again. Maybe he feels undesirable. That's something Aerdir struggles with too.... He wants to fix that.

So he brings it up the next time they lay together, that he wants to make Wyll feel desired. Wyll surprises him by saying he already does, because being with Aerdir is already enough to make anyone feel wanted with how often Aerdir insists on kissing him and wrapping his tail around him. Aerdir just sits there, blushing like mad, but declares his point stands, and Wyll gives him permission to do whatever he wants to do, whenever.

"Surprise me, no matter what it is, as long as it's you I will feel as desired as always."

Aerdir grumbles about it but once Wyll is fast asleep he makes his move, shifting away slowly enough that Wyll doesn't wake up. Settling between his legs and nudging them apart to help himself. To Aerdir, Wyll is perfect, all the ridges and bumps that Wyll was worried about remind him of his own, leading Aerdir to kiss every single one.

He takes Wyll's cock into his mouth with a little more eagerness than even he had expected to, and the fact that it fits perfectly without threatening to gag him, it's just heavy enough as it slowly starts to get hard from the attention.

Just as he starts to pull off, Wyll's hand slips into his hair with a sigh, his one eye half open to watch. His legs open just a little more to give Aerdir more room, but it doesn't last very long because soon enough Wyll's hips are rocking, his hand is holding Aerdir by the hair just a little tighter, full on fucking his mouth. Aerdir relaxes into much to his own surprise, not used to being with someone like this, where it feels like both of them are actually enjoying it.

Aerdir keeps himself as still as he can, but he moves with Wyll's thrusts and gets a little more eager too, sucking when he can, groaning because Wyll is starting to leak out precum and the taste of it has his hands clinging to Wyll like a lifeline. They both get lost in it, Wyll going a little harder, faster, fucking Aerdir's mouth and just barely reaching his throat, but it's perfect.

When he finally gets close enough that he's going to come he gives Aerdir's hair a little tug, but Aerdir stays right where he is. He wants to be a little greedy, he wants it for himself for once, and that coupled with the look Aerdir gives Wyll sends Wyll over the edge, coming in Aerdir's mouth and down his throat. Aerdir swallows every bit of it like he's starved for it, and Wyll has to actually work to get Aerdir off of him so that they don't look so.. conspicuous when the others wake up.

They end up doing this often, sometimes Wyll does it to Aerdir, eating him out with a slow kind of reverence, and the first time they do that they get fussed at because Aerdir is loud. He definitely gets gagged, and even then both Gale AND Shadowheart have to put a silence ward over Wyll's tent.

[thedreamlessnights]

Masterlist

Completed works are bold.

Baldur’s Gate 3:

Astarion x Reader

• Someone to shed some light (NSFW, Multi-chapter - GN!Reader // After being raised as a commoner, you find yourself as the last in a royal bloodline, forced into a marriage with someone you've never met. He’s more than he seems.)

• Liability (Upcoming NSFW, Multi-Chapter - Astarion x NB!Tav // Two hundred years after being sentenced to prison by a corrupt magistrate, Arden is abducted by a nautiloid and subjected to a tadpole insertion. Little do they know, that very magistrate is on the same ship - and shares their uncomfortable affliction.)

• Fervency (NSFW - F!Reader // After falling into mysterious spores in the Underdark, you start to experience some... strange side effects. Astarion is more than happy to assist.)

• Fixation (NSFW - Ascended!Astarion x F!Reader // When a mistranslated ancient spell goes wrong, you're forced to suffer the consequences. Astarion takes a keen interest in your... predicament.)

• Aching (SFW - Astarion x F!Dark Urge // When you come across Gortash in Wyrm's Crossing, your past throws in a complication - like always.)

- Gale x Reader

• Distraction (NSFW x F!Reader // Gale is working in his study. You have half a mind to distract him.)

• Give The Devil His Due (Upcoming NSFW, Multi-Chapter - Gale x F!Reader // After Gale sacrifices himself to save Faerûn, you make a deal with a certain devil to get him back.)

The Witcher:

— Geralt x Reader

• Accismus (Upcoming NSFW - GN!Reader // After coming across a djinn, you wish for constant protection. He grants it by sending you a witcher.)

• Almond, Apple, & Maple (Upcoming NSFW - F!Reader // When a strange young woman crashes into your kitchen and sends you tumbling through time and space, you find yourself transported to a new world - one of monsters, magic, and witchers.)

• No Promises (NSFW - F!Reader // You hire Geralt to escort you through a dangerous patch of woods, and the two of you run into an aphrodisiac.)

Arcane:

(Note: I am no longer writing for Arcane)

— Viktor x Reader

• I've found hope in a heart attack (NSFW - F!Reader // A story in which, after a series of unforeseen events, you and Viktor end up on vacation together. Alone.)

• Not an end, but the start of all things (NSFW - F!Reader & Vampire! Viktor // Sick and desperate, you find yourself turning to a source of help you never could have predicted - a vampire.)

• Desperation - (NSFW - F!Reader // After Viktor becomes a little too devoted to his work, you find a way to grab his attention.)

• Shelter me my love, and I will shelter you (NSFW - F!Reader // Viktor being your nude model turns into something much more.)

• I’ve drunk the wine of ages - (Viktor x F!Reader // In which getting drunk at a party ruins your life. Almost.)

• Bad Influence (Gn!Reader // A drabble where Viktor takes care of you while you're sick.)

• How sweet a kiss can be (Gn!Reader // After teaching Viktor and Jayce how to bake, you get a very sweet reward.)

• Stay (Gn!Reader // After a long day at the lab, Viktor comes home to you.)

• Two Seconds (NSFW- F!Reader // After a priceless family heirloom breaks, Viktor’s the only one who is able to fix it to you. In trying to repay him, something else builds along the way.)

• Anything You Want (NSFW - F!Reader // As an anniversary gift, Viktor lets you do whatever you want with him. You give him a single rule to follow: he’s not allowed to touch you, or you’ll stop.)

• A Little Creative (NSFW - F!Reader // After a pounding headache has been killing your concentration at work, your friend Viktor lends you a painkiller. Only… you ended up grabbing the wrong medication, and now you’re absurdly horny.)

— Jayce x Reader

• Roommates (NSFW - F!Reader // Jayce (your super hot roommate) doesn't know how to knock.)

• No more keeping score (NSFW - F!Reader // Jayce lost in the Undercity (gone wrong) (gone sexual) AKA Jayce stumbles into a brothel.)

• Every night with us is like a dream (NSFW - Gn!Reader //This movie is boring, and, well - Jayce is sitting there, practically begging to be teased.)

• Only Yours (NSFW - Gn!Reader // Jayce gets ✨jealous ✨ )

[thegirlfromoverthepond]

Jingle Bells

Hello !

Here’s a little piece I wrote for @talesofpanem​‘s Everlark Holiday Bingo...

I think I tick D2 (thank you @xerxia31​) ... Plus, can you spot the sentence that was a challenge to put in the story ? (Evil grin)

Oh, and this fic is totally based on this K-mart ad. Just saying.

I want to thank @hutchhitched​ and @xerxia31​ for the organization. Might I had this story wouldn’t be there without @xerxia31​‘s stellar betaing skills. Enough talking .... 

JINGLE BELLS

“I can’t even believe they’re doing this. I mean… I can believe Finn is doing it, but Darius? Gale? PEETA? I mean, into what universe have we fallen?”

I chuckle at Madge’s words. Because I truly have no idea why my best friend, my friends and my secret boyfriend will be the next ones on stage, jingling bells to raise money for the food bank.

They could have picked anything. Last year, Peeta was Santa, taking pictures with the kids, and Annie and I were his devoted little helpers. That’s when I discovered there was much more to Peeta than met the eyes. He wasn’t only the perfect American poster boy, he had layers that I didn’t expect, and damn was he an awesome kisser. And lover. 

That’s also the year Gale finally decided to ask Madge out, the rest is now history. They are talking about moving together, seeing as she spends almost every night at his place, instead of in her bedroom in the apartment we share.

Which is totally okay by me, since Peeta can come over quite often too.

“Did I miss anything?” Annie, Finnick’s girlfriend has finally arrived. She works on the other side of Panem, and was afraid to be late for the show.

“Well, apart from Glimmer trying to prove she can sing, no.”

“Again?”

I nod at Annie’s words. We all know, well, the whole world knows Glimmer can’t sing to save her own life. She’s the only one totally oblivious to it. So, every single year, she graces us with the worst ever rendition of “All I want for Christmas”. 

“Did Jo perform?” Annie asks, taking her phone from her jeans pocket.

I laugh at her question.

“Effie forbade Jo to perform.”

“Why?”

I turn to look at Annie, startled she doesn’t know. Madge is the first to talk, barely hiding her smile.

“You weren’t there last year?” Madge asks. That’s when I remember Annie was sick with Covid for last year’s Christmas Charity Concert. “Let’s say Jo did quite an unbelievable number, finishing completely nude.”

“Oh my God, no wonder Effie didn’t want her back.” Annie laughs, before looking at her phone. “Why is Finn sending me a picture of boxer briefs?”

I look at Madge, who seems unaware of what’s happening with the boys. We both look at the picture Annie shows us, and indeed, it’s a pair of blue boxer briefs, with Christmas ornaments on it. A sleigh, Santa, tinsel, every Christmas cliché seems to be there.

“Seems like Finn wants to play Santa to Mrs Claus tonight” Madge replies, amused, as her own phone beeps too. She quickly looks at it, before turning her phone to us.

 On the screen there’s a pair of red boxers, also adorned with Christmas ornaments.

“Must be a joke of theirs,” I shrug, as I feel my own phone vibrate. Thank god I put it on silent. ”Or it’s a message for you to really go buy some Mrs Claus outfits!”

“Didn’t Gale tell you? He’s your cousin!” Madge looks at me as if I had a clue of what’s going on.

“You think I talk to Gale about his choice of boxer briefs? I have no idea what’s going on, Madge!”

“Sorry, I just thought they were pranking us or something.”

“Well, they must be pranking us,” I agree, as my phone vibrates again. I take it out of my pocket as Madge turns towards Annie, the both of them staring at the pictures they received minutes ago. I smile when I see Peeta has sent me two texts.

 Two pictures of a green pair of boxer briefs, adorned with christmas ornaments too.

What the hell are they doing? I ask myself, as I look at the pictures. 

“That’s the question, right? You got one too? Who sent it to you?” Madge can be a phenomenal investigator when she puts her mind to it. 

I am literally saved by the bell. A concert of bells.  When the curtain opens we see  five men, waving the bells they are holding in their hands, in a concert of ho-ho-hos. 

Of course Finnick is in the center, winking at Annie as soon as he sees her. Those two are so sweet it hurts my teeth. Gale and Peeta are at his side, adjusting their tux jackets while talking with their respective neighbours, Darius and Thresh.

Needless to say, five handsome men in tuxedos on a stage radiating confidence provokes quite an uproar from the crowd of women around me.

They start to whistle and shout as soon as Finnick starts paying attention to them.

“Are we ready, ladies?” Finnick says. That’s when I realize they all have mics. I sincerely hope they won’t sing because one thing is for sure: he’s my boyfriend and I might-kinda be in love with him, but Peeta can’t carry a tune.

The crowd echoes with shouts. I always wonder how he can turn women on like that. I mean, of course, he’s handsome, all lean muscles and bronze hair, green eyes shining, but he’s … too much for me. I do prefer my own stocky built man, with his luminous blue eyes and his mop of curly blonde hair. He’s so cute when he’s smiling.

“It’s starting!” Madge pulls me out of my thoughts of Peeta’s cuteness to bring me back to the view of my boyfriend in a tuxedo with bells in his hands.

Winking.At.Me.

The bastard.

We both agreed to go slow with this relationship as we both don’t have stellar history in that field. 

“Who is Peeta winking at?” Of course, Madge notices. Remember what I told you about her being a star investigator? 

“No clue.” I shrug, as I try not to falter under her staring eyes. She’s perceptive, and I think she guessed that something is going on.

I look back at the stage when I hear the bells jingling. 

It’s surprisingly short. They just bell “sleep in heavenly peace”, then put the bells down.

I am not alone wondering what’s going on when the table in front of the men moves away revealing … oh my …

The five men on the stage are wearing tuxedo jackets… but not pants. The five of them are adorned in boxer briefs of different shades, all Christmas-y themed. Red, blue, green, grey and yellow.

I guess that explains the pictures we received, right? I can’t help but look at Peeta’s legs, covered in blonde hair, muscular from years of wrestling and lifting heavy bags of flour at his parents’ bakery. I know exactly where the scar from his torn ACL is. Know exactly which place to touch to elicit moaning. 

I’m not willing to share him with the horde of women now shouting.

I’m about to walk up and show them he’s mine when the boys line up again. Finnick calls the room to attention.

“Ladies ,we would like to introduce you to a totally new, never seen before rendition of Jingle Bells.” He turns towards someone, nods once, and the lights dim. The boys stretch out their hands, before linking them behind their heads.

Peeta’s tuxedo jacket rises a little. I recognize the trail of hair on his stomach, the hair I play with when we lay together in bed.

I am so focused on his stomach that I would have missed their choreography if it hadn’t been centered on their hips.

It starts with Finnick, of course. He’s always the first when there are crazy things to do. He starts thrusting his groin along with the sound of the bells.

One after the other the guys start to jingle their bells on the stage. Along to the music.

“Can you believe this?” Madge asks as they take their bows, large grins on their faces. 

“Alas, I can, as I’ve seen it. I am very frightened for next year, they might call Johanna back,” I say, as I feel my phone vibrate again.

“I’m going to ask Gale for a private performance tonight!” 

“Oh, I’m definitely doing the same with Finnick!” Annie says, as she looks at the crowd of women surrounding the guys.

“TMI, TMI!” Why do they feel the need to share such private information with me ? “You’re not going in for a rescue?” I ask as I watch hints of red bloom on Madge’s cheeks. 

“Yeah, you’re right, I should. Won’t you go help Peeta?”

“Why would I go help Peeta?” I hastily reply. 

Madge shrugs. “Isn’t it what you two usually do? Protect each other?”

I sigh, before taking my phone out of my pocket and typing a quick message to Peeta.

“Here. Are you happy, Margaret?” 

She quickly reads the text and shows it to Annie, before giving me my phone back.

“Katniss, you’re going to need to improve your sexting skills. I doubt ‘ Do I need to send in the SWAT team?’ is considered flirting, you know?”

I take back my phone and send it before smiling at my friends.

“Who said I needed help? Your men, on the other end…” I point out the group of women still in front of the stage, and happily see my two friends walking towards their men.

My phone buzzes in my hand. I smile as I read Peeta’s text.

No need to. But be ready to jingle my bells tonight.

I already am.

_____________________________________

That’s it ! Let me know what you think and Merry 2020 Christmas! May the odds be in your favor !

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 25

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Tuesday, cont’d

Malcolm checked his watch once again, leg bouncing anxiously as he waited.  He wasn’t an idiot; it was clear that Rose was upset, but she wouldn’t talk to him.  He also knew that Sarah’s excuse to disappear into the kitchen was just that, and he was absolutely certain that the two of them were huddled somewhere out of sight, talking- probably about him.

Don’t you dare make Rose cry, he silently warned his old friend, narrowed gaze watching the hall to the toilets.  The last thing he wanted was for her to be upset, especially at him.  It always broke his heart to see her in tears, and he hated the idea it would be his fault.

Once the ten minute mark passed he had had enough, and throwing down his napkin, stalked across the small shop and around the corner, only to find an unexpected sight- the two women clinging to each other, sobbing with laughter, Sarah in the middle of gasping out a story he couldn’t quite make out but had Rose howling.

“What the fuck is this?”

Rather than startle them apart his bark had the opposite effect, sending them into fresh gales of laughter.

“What?”

More laughter.

“What?”

Releasing her grasp on Sarah Rose staggered forward to him, practically throwing herself in his arms.  “Oh, I love her,” she wheezed, sagging against him.  “We should have her over for dinner.”

What?  “Sure, if you want,” he said uncertainly, entirely lost on how they’d gotten to this point.  “What happened?”

“She- and I- so we- and then- oh, you had to be there,” Rose sighed, nestling her head against his chest.  “Did you really pose nude for an art class?”

“I needed the money,” he defended himself automatically, wrapping his arms around her and glaring over her head at Sarah, who was watching them with a smirk.  “What have you been telling her?”

“The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” his old friend promised, raising her hands as if in defense.  “Things she needs to know.”

Malcolm harrumphed at that, entirely certain their definitions would be wildly different, hers far more embarrassing for him.  “It’s all lies,” he peered down at Rose.  “Don’t believe a word.”

She grinned up at him, licking her lips.  “You know,” she whispered, “I did study art history in uni, and toyed with being an artist myself.  It seems only fair that you pose nude for me.”

Narrowing his eyes at her, he tilted his head in thought.  “I’ve done some sketches myself, so I’ll make you a deal- you pose for me, I’ll pose for you.”

“Deal,” she didn’t hesitate.  “Oooh, don’t you have a really old car?  Other than Bessie, I mean?”

“We have a 1953 Rolls Royce?”

Her lips curled up.  “You know that scene in Titanic?”

He shivered in delight at the idea, already able to see it playing out in delicious ways.  “Fuck yes.”

And just like that, things between them were fine.

-

Soon enough they were on their way, with tentative plans for Sarah Jane to join them for dinner on Thursday.  Malcolm drove once again, but slower this time, and Rose was all too happy to put her hand in his when he offered it.

“I’m sorry about Sarah,” he said somewhat tentatively.  “If she hurt you, or embarrassed you.”

Having been watching the water on their left, she had to turn her head to face him.  “It’s okay,” she decided after a moment of consideration.  “Yes, in the beginning, it was a bit weird, and I felt left out, but… in the end she was lovely.”  She debated silently about telling him what Sarah Jane had said in regards to Wallace’s ‘plans’, but settled against it.  She could always tell him later, and things just felt too fragile at the moment.  If it wasn’t love for him, she didn’t want to tip her hand – if all he wanted was a bit of fun, to lean into the ‘honeymooners’ idea, well… that was fine.  She’d take what she could get, enjoy the here and now, and worry about the future later.

Malcolm squeezed her hand, raising it to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.  “It was nice to catch up with her, but that’s no excuse for ignoring you.  Thank you for being so understanding.”

“I was just surprised,” she turned further into him, taking advantage of the bench seat to curl into his side.  “And a little put off by her thinking I was Clara.”

He opened and closed his mouth several times before settling for a shrug.  “There’s too many possible answers to that that would now be weird to say after last night,” he admitted.  “I’m going to leave it alone, but I want you to know I had good comebacks.”

Rose glanced out the windshield, noting they were on a relatively straight patch at the moment with no cars to be seen.  Taking a chance, she moved closer and purred in his ear, “I’m sure you’d have given it to me good.”  To highlight her point, she caught his earlobe gently between her teeth, free hand settling on his lap.

“Holy fuck,” Malcolm gasped, veering sharply in response before getting the car back under control.  By the time he had she was back on her side of the bench, sitting prim and proper and innocent as could be.  “What was that?!”

She just laughed, leaning back against the seat and stretching her legs out in front of her.

-

Malcolm pulled into the driveway faster than necessary, tires squealing slightly as he braked and threw it into park.  Practically jumping out of the car he moved around to Rose’s door to open it for her, helping her down a bit more brusquely than wise- but her half-laugh half-gasp of his name told him he was forgiven.  Leaving the keys in the ignition for the footman to deal with, he hurried her into the house, ignoring her giggled protests.

“What’s the rush?” she laughed, as he guided her expertly through the house, calling on half-forgotten knowledge from misspent summers long past.  “Malcolm.”

“In here.”  Here was a small broom closet under the stairs, just barely big enough for them to stand up in, provided they stayed close.  He backed her against the door, leaning down to hover his lips over hers.  “Rose.”

“Malcolm.”

“Say yes,” he breathed, one hand skimming down her waist to her knee, applying a light pressure there in encouragement.  “Oh, fuck, please say yes.”

She giggled, leaning back against the door, moving her feet apart before raising her knee to hook over his hip.  “We’ll have to be quiet.”

He moved with her, pressing himself against her and groaning, burying his face in her neck to lay wet kisses there.  “That’s not a yes.”  He wanted her, desperately, but more than that he wanted her to want him.

“Ah.”  Rose wrapped her arms around him, bumping her hips up against him once, twice, three times, drawing a wretched moan from him.  “Well, then- yes.”

-

Biting her lip, Rose shifted on the couch, rubbing her thighs together.  She’d finally reached the part in her romance novel where the heroine gave into her desire for the love interest, and it was exceptionally steamy, especially after her own encounter that afternoon in the hall closet.

“Alright?” Malcolm asked, and she peeked over the top of the book to find him watching her.

“Mhmm.”  Putting her book aside, she sat up and turned, sitting flush next to him, hip to hip.  “What’cha doing?”

He gestured down towards the papers scattered on the table.  “Reviewing the paperwork still.  This is about the rents- I don’t want to bore you.”

“Tell me anyway.”

He raised his eyebrow, looking at her skeptically.  “You want to hear about rent and tenants?”

“You said I would be handling some of the management stuff as Lady Gallifrey,” she reminded him.  “I should know about it- I want to know about it.  I want you to teach me.”

“It’s not the most interesting thing in the world.”

She nudged him with her shoulder, grinning.  “Yeah, but it’s funny- many things are infinitely more interesting when told in a sexy Scottish accent.”

“You think my accent’s sexy?”  He sounded genuinely surprised, and she laughed out loud.

“I think everything’s sexy about you – including your accent.  Body.  Mind.  Now come on, teach me.”

“Alright.”  Not looking convinced of her interest, he nonetheless played along, rifling through his paperwork for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper that looked like a summary.  “So, here’s how this works.  The property’s about four thousand acres-”

-

Taking the time to pamper herself before bed, it was the first time Rose really had by herself to consider everything that had happened over the past few days.  From successfully seducing Malcolm on Saturday, arriving in Scotland on Sunday, yesterday’s horseback riding and “riding lessons”, to this afternoon’s outing… it had been a virtual whirlwind, and as the dust metaphorically settled around her as she washed her hair, she found herself standing in a fog, uncertain of the safest path ahead.

That wasn’t strictly true – the safest path ahead was to have her things moved to the other room, stop shagging Malcolm, and wait for the five years to pass.

That wasn’t what she wanted, though.

Okay, what’s relatively safe but let’s us keep having sex?

If she were honest with herself, she wanted it all.  A real marriage, filled with love and laughter and happiness and babies (and sex).  And she wanted it with Malcolm – only Malcolm.  The only problem was, she had no idea what he wanted, and what she might have to sacrifice for them to find a happy compromise.  Realistically, though, she knew what she would be willing to give up – children.  It would hurt, and she would have to live vicariously through Clara, but that was something she’d rather not have with him than have with someone else.

At the end of the day, it came down to love – did he love her as she did him?  She couldn’t tell, and he hadn’t said.  He acted like he did, but that had all started after the Gala, and she couldn’t be certain it wasn’t a function of their bedroom activities.  Did the new intimacy between them free him to show her how he felt, or was he acting that way to keep her in his bed?

She had no idea.

As soon as she was dry she reached for her mobile, texting Clara I need to talk to you.  Picking up the blow dryer, she was almost finished by the time she got a response, but it wasn’t what she wanted.

We’re doing an overnight field trip in a museum, I can’t get away.  Is tomorrow afternoon okay?

Shit.  Biting her lip, Rose shrugged.  What harm could one more night do? she thought pessimistically.  At least if she didn’t confront him, she couldn’t be rejected, and the sex was incredible.  Fine, she replied, let me know the second you’re free.

Once she was ready except for her pajamas, she examined her options with her hands on her hips.  She’d brought two sets in, unable to choose, and all of her ruminating hadn’t helped a lick.  One was a simple cotton nightgown, the same from the night before that he’d seemed to like well enough, while the other was overtly sexy, a red satin lined with lace that screamed fuck me – she’d bought it on sale a few days after Valentine’s Day, after all.

“Rose?  Everything okay?” Malcolm knocked on the door, startling her.  “You’re not upset about Sarah, are you?”

“No, I’m okay,” she called back.  “Just a moment.”

Closing her eyes she reached forward, fingers closing around fabric – satin.

Alright, then.

Pulling it on over her head and smoothing it down, she had to admit she did look good in it.  Skipping the matching knickers, she pulled on the robe that went with it instead, tying it tightly before picking up her discarded options and returning to the bedroom.

“So, Jack arranged for us to go to the distillery tomorrow,” Malcolm said as soon as she opened the door.

“That sounds nice,” she replied, dumping her armful of clothes on top of the dresser to deal with tomorrow.  “Do we get a sample?”

He started to laugh, stopping abruptly when she pulled off the dressing gown and climbed into bed.  “Uh, yep,” he swallowed hard, eyes firmly south of hers.  “Of course.  Samples… samples are good.”  His gaze slowly rose to meet her own, and he looked delightfully punch-drunk at the sight of her.  “Tired?”

She slid down on the mattress, turning to face him and propping herself up on her elbow.  “Nope,” she popped the p, grinning.  “Not yet.  Got any suggestions of things to do that’ll tire me out?”

She shrieked with laughter when he pounced on her just as she’d hoped, fingers digging into her sides as he started a tickle war.

It was fair to say by the end, they’d both won.

Several times.

[igivezerohoots]

Thank you. - Grayson Dolan Imagine

Summary: Grayson has always been the kind of person who keeps his feelings stuffed deeply within, who decides not to let his foul mood affect people. However, he neglects the fact that it is not good to keep everything concealed and unspoken, and so he has to learn it through one of the worst ways possible. He must endure his most terrifying breakdown, during which he nearly loses his own self, but luckily, he isn't alone in the fight of overcoming his constraints.

 It's late afternoon when you awake. The gentle chill of the rainy weather is slightly comforting; the sound of the rainfall pattering outside, the distant thunder and the downcast sky, they offer a form of odd consolation. You slightly shiver, bringing the quilt wrapped around your body closer and turning around, in search of the person that is normally curled up beside you.

As your hands seek for the warmth of another's skin, they are disappointed to only come across the feeling of wrinkled sheets. It makes your eyes open, blurry and glancing around for the sight they are looking for. You almost smile as you see him sitting at the edge of the mattress, relief instantly abounding your heart. He is facing away from you, tired eyes planted upon the wall before him. He's merely clad in his black underclothes, shoulders slumped and skin grey and gloomy beneath the dim lighting's will. His dark hair is unkempt and disheveled, spine only briefly protruding from his back. Beneath all the flesh and muscle, it is as if you can see the bones, nestled together and making him one. Your fingers gently caress his lower back, and you watch with wonder as the body immediately tenses at the hint of your touch, how the skin seems to crawl at the indicator of your presence.

The sound of Grayson's taut sighing reaches your ears, and you can sense that something is wrong. He seems so stoic out of the blue, so quiet and reserved. The aura dancing around him suggests his uncertainty, a shred of guilt, even fright.  His head lowers, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly; unsure of how to act. Part of him wants to turn around and find comfort in the haven of your embrace, yet the other, the hesitancy and fear, holds him back; tells him not to touch you, not to eat away your life, not to ruin you.

And Grayson figures that he is selfish like that. He is well aware of how much you care about him, how happy you are when you are together, of how much he feels the same. And he hates it. Grayson always told himself that all that could heal him was the affection of someone, the fondness and gentleness they would show. It was all that he ever craved for, all that he ever missed, all that he could ever hope of having. And now that he does, he doesn't know what to do with it. Initially, he seeped within the beautiful lie, yet now... now the doubts are starting to cloud over his tainted mind. Is this really what he wants? Can this really be it? Grayson knows for a fact that somehow, he will managed to screw it up, and end it all with his selfish actions.

As he turns around and peers at you over his shoulder, eyes black and vacant, expression placid and still, you slightly cower beneath the stark gaze and the warmth of your touch upon him dissolves. There is a fragment of pity within the windows of his soul, the way they soften when they land upon you, it makes you feel in a way that is unexplainable. He takes in the disarray of your hair, the way sleepy orbs stare at him so dreamily, the blouse swathed around your body that was made for someone much bigger; a piece of clothing which is his belonging. He doesn't seem to be able to get the picture out of his head. The way you would squeal and giggle when he'd be atop you, pressing fluffy kisses upon the surface of your skin, how you'd take the initiative and wear some of his baggy clothing simply because it was comfortable, how you had wrapped your bare legs around him a few hours ago and how his soft palms had run over them. It seemed as if you were a remedy of some sort; every kiss you'd given him made his heart stutter, every soft-spoken whisper you'd empty against his ear was enough to make him feel happy. The smiles, the jokes, the happiness you shared when with each other-- it was pulling his ripped heart back together, slowly but certainly curing him. It felt good, to have someone like this after such a long while; someone he could be vulnerable with, someone with whom he could be himself.

"Gray, what's wrong?" You say softly, voice replete with nothing but concern and worry.

There is a moment of silence, and it appears as though Grayson is considering your question, eyes shifting as he thinks. He can't stand gazing at you. It is hurting him. He is unable to cease his thoughts, to stop the inferno burning within him, polluting his lungs with thick, black smoke. And he can't help but wonder, what will become of you if you end up with a guy like himself? A guy who is sad, whose vile thinking cannot be stopped, who is losing himself-- feels trapped, strapped to the confines of his own mind, and no matter how much he tries, how much he cries, he can't-- he can't escape. There is no catharsis, no silver-lining within the dense fog surrounding him. He's ready to hurl, his heart is aching so much he can barely stay awake. Only sleep can cure this pain, but the remedy is momentary. When he wakes up he will have to remember again, to be possessed again.

Grayson is so scared. He's so very scared. Throughout his entire life, he was able to avoid bullying, mean comments, sinister people, but now he is doomed. He is tormented by the only thing he cannot escape, by the only thing that kept him together for so long-- himself. He's losing his own, very being, and there is no ground to stand upon.  He's only sinking deeper into the void, his screams for help muffled by a gag shoved down his throat. And he can't breathe, he can't talk, he can't escape.

"Nothing." His low voice responds, stale and bereft of all enthusiasm and glee. The storm thundering around him amplifies, and so does the downpour outdoors.

Before you are able to reach for him, he is already standing, tall stature towering over the bed, yet sloping and hunching. He says nothing more, merely heading to his bathroom and shutting the door behind him. You sit in quietude for a few minutes,  eyes pinned to ground, feeling guilt and remorse eating up your fragile, throbbing heart. It is not long before you hear the sound of the shower going off, and you sigh softly, lips pursuing as countless thoughts seep within your mind. Grayson evidently isn't okay. You are confused, however, as such demeanor from him isn't normal; at least from your experience.  He was fine just hours ago, when he had tiredly settled down next to you and fallen asleep. You struggle to understand, what has changed since then? Maybe you did something that vexed him, perhaps it had to do with something you had said. Or maybe... maybe he regretted what you both did together. Just a few hours ago, Grayson and you made love for the very first time, and it makes your heart shatter to think about the possibility, but it may be that which is bothering him so greatly. Maybe he wasn't sure if he wanted to do such a thing with you, and now he is having second thoughts about it.

The harsh thunder that splits your ears makes you flinch.

Though reluctantly, you draw the thin blanket from your body, your bare soles coming in contact with the cold flooring below. The loose, grey sweatshirt hanging from your form nearly reaches the middle of your thighs, the sleeves far too long for arms like your own. It provides a sort of comfort in a way, slightly soothing your aching heart as you hesitantly stroll toward the bathroom door. You press your wide palms against the timbered surface, slightly biting your lip. It makes your eyes almost tear up when you hear soft, muffled sobs coming from within the small room. Your first instinct is to twist the handle and venture inside, and it seems to overcome any doubts your mind is holding. Listening to your happy, loving Grayson, spewing such soul-racking cries, makes wave after wave of sorrow overwhelm you.  Maybe he will send you away, maybe he will yell at you and show his worst self, maybe he doesn't even want to look at you... But you cannot live with the idea that you left your love when he was clearly in need of solace. You must do something.

The metal feels cold beneath your fingers, but you can't afford to care.

"...Baby?"

As you enter, a smother of steam surrounds you, heat pushing past your nostrils. The warmth creeps beneath the shirt you are clad with, dampening the exposed skin underneath. Your eyes take in Grayson's nude form standing hunched within the shower, arms draped by his sides. The little room wasn't lit well, given that the only source of light was from under the overcast sky and the lightning that would occasionally strike. It wasn't hard to see, and all that teemed your ears was the gentle sound of water cascading from the shower head and the harsh gales of wind battling with the rain outside. You grimace at the rumble of thunder bellowing in the distance.

Your motion ceases completely once sad eyes turn to look at you; lost, unfocused, obscure eyes. They are squinted and weary from their duty, and despite the lack of light, you can still make out how puffy they are, how broken they are. You have never seen so much emotion lie within a pair of eyes-- not even when you'd stare in the mirror when sobbing. They look at you for a brief second, before turning away, hiding; ashamed. Grayson's cries resume, this time involuntarily transforming into inhuman wailing. His back slides against the wet tiles, knees folding close to his chest, face hidden away beneath shaky hands and wild hair. Within his frenzy, he begins hitting himself, clenched fists striking his knees, teeth biting into bleeding lips, nails racking down flushed cheeks.

Little fingers wrap around his wrists, seizing all movement and-- even if Grayson is much stronger and could dismiss the hold all at once-- he lets himself be gripped, but hides his face, pressing his cheek against his shoulder and voice breaking dangerously as he tries to disappear. You try to calm him down, but he screeches in protest, muttering vapid words that you can't make out.

"Gray, Gray, calm down," You try, but he is still quivering, attempting to wiggle out of your grasp. Your hands squeeze at his shoulders, voice low and calm, yet firm and loud. "Gray, stop. Look at me-- Grayson, look at me."

There is silence as the curled man stops his squirming, wide eyes locking with your own. His breathing is heavy and erratic, his face damp from the tears, expression broken and helpless. A quiet tear lands upon the side of your hand as you gently cup his cheek, gentle orbs understanding and compassionate, serene in a mien that makes his lips tremble. You can feel his heartbeat throbbing against his skin, pondering at how fast and scared it is. Grayson's features falter, his palm squeezing yours as the warmth of fresh water slowly coats it. He starts softly crying again, and you take him in your arms, hearing his mewls grow vehement and clamorous. You don't even care that the water flowing from the shower is dampening your hair and clothing.

You hold him fondly, shutting your eyes tightly and caressing the tufts sprouting from the back of his head. You don't know for how long you have been bowing here at his side, soothing his mighty pain. It seems like you are in a different world when you allow your eyes to open, sensing the nuance of his mood. The rainstorm outside has stopped, ridding the sky of the thick clouds and letting birds fly freely. Grayson's crying has halted, yet he's still trembling and hurting, his suffering patently not over. His fingers are aquiver, nails digging within the wet material of the blouse you're clothed with.

"It hurts, Y/n," He whimpers hoarsely, sniffling against your shoulder. "Make it stop, please-- please make it stop..." He shudders against you, desperately striving not to dissolve into tears again. This is the brink of his sanity, and he is on the verge of giving up and letting himself being completely engulfed by the void of his mind. "I can't make it stop, it won't stop.. please, please save me... I can't make it stop. It hurts-- it hurts so much!"

"I know, Gray," You say softly, breath fondling his skin as you kiss the side of his neck with reluctant lips. "I know. And I can't make it stop, I can't make all of it fade away. But, I'm right here with you, and I won't leave you deal with it on your own. I will walk with you through it, I'll be right by your side. You're not alone. All that you are feeling right now-- it's normal. It's okay to feel this way."

"I feel like I'm losing myself," He confesses tremulously, lashes glued together with saltwater, face contorting at the mere thoughts running through his mind. "Will I live like this every day? Will this never go away?"

You smile and shake your head slightly, the pads of your fingers carefully massaging his scalp. "No. It will get better, sweet. I promise you." You press a light kiss against his temple, seeing as his body slowly calms down beneath your touch. He's listening. "I know it's scary; losing yourself. But, you are a strong person, Gray, one of the strongest I know. You will stand tall and face any problem that comes your way. Because you can do it. And you won't be alone. I'll be right here the entire time, to help you deal with it. I won't lose you, I won't leave you. We can do it, together. Try it, with me. What kind of person would I be to let your demons consume your pretty head?"

Grayson feels thankful, bewildered even. He can't help but wonder where such kindness emanates from. He is not used to being cradled and mouthed words of sympathy, nor is he accustomed to breaking down so bad in front of another. Especially you. He is afraid, above all. He is afraid that if he were to display this side of him, he would scare you off. And he doesn't want to lose you, no, not now that he has found you. What would he ever do? He wants to express the gratitude, the appreciation and love he holds for you. He wants to say that his heart hasn't been beating calmly for days, and that the simple presence of you has made the entire torment better. He wants to, but he finds himself unable to do so.

"Don't let me go," He croaks, voice calm and hoarse. He is drained, both emotionally and physically. His body cannot withstand such self-made loathing and pain, his heart is on the verge of giving out from the rapid use. He wants to cry, but his brain is so weary that it is not able to produce tears. His lids are so heavy, draping over the dull beads of his eyes. He absentmindedly fingers the saturated material of your blouse, head reclining against your shoulder as tired eyes slowly shut.

"I'm here, Gray, I'm right here." You lightly kiss his forehead, lips slightly trembling. You close your eyes and feel as his tense body gradually composes within your hug, hand gently caressing his skin as his chest begins quaking once again. It seems unfeasible, but he starts weeping again, unraveling in your arms. You remain still and firm, a dependable brace for the broken boy despondently holding on to you as he cries.

You don't regret the decision you made regarding him, not even for a split second. You'd never trade such a delicate, fragile being for anything under the labels of "better". How can you? When you truly love someone, you don't watch their demise without standing up for them, but help them clamber out of the hellfire. So, you stay there, arms enfolded around his tottery frame, lips mumbling sweet nothings against the flesh of his bare neck as they brush along it.

As the clouds recede from the sky, a string of colors stretches across the baby blue valley, reaching the horizon and peeking through the window. The lively hues of the rainbow are comforting and reassuring, feeling your heart with hope. It is a reminder that there is always beauty in the world, hope in the hopeless, calm after a storm. The chirping of birds comes about, and Grayson falls asleep upon your shoulder, soothed by the environmental hymn and the warmth of your embrace, swollen lips parted and heart lying in peace. The tug of a small smile is still making the corner of his mouth quiver.

Thank you.