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#and he already struggles to keep his emotions at bay when it comes to you sober. even worse when drunk
bunnions · 28 days
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something something katsuki can't keep his hands off you when he's had a little too much to drink (see: denks the worst at-home bartender in the world, believes a shot of vodka really means four).
it starts off innocently enough, gathered in eijiro's living room, when he cracks a foul-mouthed joke and you double over into side with laughter. the heat starts to creep up his neck, but it's easy to blame it on the alcohol. he nudges you back playfully, a grin quirking at the corner of his lips.
two more shots of whatever vile concoction denki mixed up and he's melting into the couch. he's sitting on one end, a little squished with how mina, eijiro, hanta, and denki are piled on top of each other - chatting away, drinking, and desperately trying not to make eye contact with the wasted blond. katsuki's got you perched all pretty in his lap because "there isn't any room left to sit." a convenient excuse.
you're flushed and trying to keep up with mina's story and you're having a great time with your friends but katsuki's hands are looping casually around your waist and pulling you closer to him and he's leaning a little on you for support and you feel a zing speed down your spine as his lips brush against your arm. an accident.
his head's a little fuzzy, but katsuki's practically melting with the alcohol swimming through his veins. and you're so soft it's making everything even fuzzier. before he even finishes that thought he's testing out the plush of your waist, your thighs, pinching a little at the small of your back, and back down to your thighs. you squirm in his hold, and he retaliates with a soft grunt and by biting what he could reach.
the spit on your arm is more uncomfortable than the rather tame bite he gives you. you can see his eyes wobble, flitting to different parts of your face. "hol' s'till," he garbles and your heart leaps into your throat. you can feel four sets of eyes boring into you both, but you can't break away from katsuki's heavy, lidded, lovesick gaze.
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oepionie · 1 year
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— "AND WHILE YOU SLEEP, I'LL BE SCARED." overblot gang 
SYNOPSIS: Your lover waking up from a horrific nightmare and scrambling to listen to your heartbeat so he can make sure you're still alive.
⊹ [ cw ] — angst, hurt/comfort, overblot, blood, glass shards injury, anxiety/panic attacks, insecurities, mentions of death, crying (them)◞
⊹ [ tags ] — ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP. GN! READER | riddle tears his room apart, leona feels immense guilt, caring leona, azul having a panic attack, vil being an absolute mess, vil speaks german, shy idia, jamil injures himself accidentally, jamil calls you 'albi' (my heart), malleus immortality angst ◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.5k+◞
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✩—RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:
It's far past his scheduled time for sleep.
A bitter taste is bubbling up in his throat and frothing against his tongue. Riddle doesn't know what this wretched feeling is. All he knows is that he's terrified. Perhaps that's why he allows himself to disturb your sleep, the maddening emotions slamming against his head becoming too much for him to handle.
"I-I apologize for waking you," Riddle rasps, slipping into your shared bed and burrowing his face deep into the crook of your neck. His breaths come out in quick and fleeting puffs, heart thrumming hard against his ribs.
In the dimness of the night, the myriad of mangled and torn-up books that were strewn and flung about the room in a frenzied fury could hardly be seen. Your gaze flickered down to your lover. The tips of Riddle's fingers were a blistering raw red, his once well-groomed nails now visibly chipped at its ends.
With a touch of your tender hands, you pull him down to rest against your chest.
"What's wrong?"
"I–I just…I recalled the incident of my overblot and how I hit you with that blast. H-How you nearly—" Clamping his eyes tight, Riddle dared not to finish that sentence. The boy trembles in your arms—ears fervently straining to hear the steady and melodic thump of your heart, a melody he feared he would never hear again.
A choked sob tumbles from his lips and your chest aches.
"…I'm sorry," was his quiet cry. "I'm so sorry."
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✩—LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:
Peacefully fast asleep, your back was nestled snug against the Leona's chest while his firm bicep protectively curled around your ribs.
Over the course of your relationship, Leona began to realize how much he loved having you in his arms. You were at peace when you slept, untouched and untainted by the stress and pain you dealt with every day.
He crept his free hand up your torso, cold fingers slipping underneath your shirt, skimming up your stomach, and settling above the spot on your chest where your heartbeat danced vividly against his touch. Leona splays his fingers out more, fixated on how the thrum of your life felt against his skin.
It was a daily struggle to keep his emotions at bay, ensuring that his strong feelings and magic wouldn't hurt you again. The nightmarish phantom of his blot still haunts him to this day. That wrath was an ugly and hideous beast he wished to keep locked away in the depths of his mind for all of eternity.
Yet, at the soft beat of your delicate heart against his sullied hands—Already, Leona finds himself wavering, uncharacteristically weak.
An overpowering mix of stress and strain washes over him, pooling up into watery blobs and flowing down his cheeks in faint streaks as he silently wept.
"Fuck," Leona curses, pulling your dozing form closer to him. "Fuck. Fuck, I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."
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✩—AZUL ASHENGROTTO:
The torment of nightmares was far worse than he remembered, but this dread he felt was unquestionably different, pressing in on him like a frigid cold. The icy sensation seeps into the marrows and dips of his flesh—his sole respite being your touch, which both warmed and scorched at his skin.
"Angelfish." Azul breathlessly sputtered, blindly patting around the bed in search of your body.
Through the fringes of his blacked out vision, he could barely make out your worried drowsy visage. This caused him to panic, pulse picking up, but you were quick to soothe him—reaching a hand out to press against his cheek. Finally finding you, the octo-mer pulled you towards his side of the bed, engulfing you in a tight hug.
Azul tried to stop the flood of tears that layered his face, but your soft lips strewn with kisses on his skin seemed to further elicit his unceasing cries. 
"I'm not going anywhere, Azul. I'm here." You whisper, cradling his face, but he was inconsolable. The octo-mer desperately clawed at your shirt as he pressed his ear deeper against your chest, practically melting into you.
The throbs of your heart echoed through his anguished mind, providing him with some semblance of comfort.
"Don't go….Please…" Azul sputters, body shaking from every deep, labored heave of his burning lungs, "Please."
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✩—JAMIL VIPER:
A strangled scream awoke you from your abyssal sleep, your bleary eyes ripping open to dart here and there around the room in a manic frenzy. The ensuing shattering smash of a glass further threw your thoughts into disarray.
"Jamil?!"
Your lover had stumbled off of the bed, now kneeling against the wooden flooring with the bedsheets pooling around his hips, sheets damp from the shattered glass of water on the floor.
A bloody hand clenched at his palpitating heart, glass shards digging into his skin, as his lungs fought to maintain his breathing.
You sprang from the mattress and skidded in his direction, but Jamil scrambled away from you.
"Albi, no. There's glass. Stay away. You're going to get hurt," Jamil stammered. Holding a shaky hand up, the boy avoided your gaze.
"Jamil—" Brows pinched together, you eased towards him. "I'm not going to get hurt, don't worry."
You stepped over the shards of crystal glass with caution and made your way past, "See?"
Once you were within his reach, Jamil caved in and slowly brought you into his arms—careful with his injury. He could feel the distant sting of the cuts on his hands, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
Leaning down, he lay his head over your heart. Even though the batter of your heart was frantic and panicked, it somewhat provided a steady beat for him to follow as he worked to untangle the complexities in his thoughts. Your lover sunk against you, anchoring himself against the warmth your body radiated.
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✩—IDIA SHROUD:
As the minutes pass, Idia was rapidly losing every meagre amount of confidence he managed to scrape together.
"Idia…honey? Please get up." You croon, running a hand through his flaming hair.
Though it seemed as if he didn't hear anything—Idia kept his head glued against your beating chest, refusing to get up from his position on the floor.
He's been kneeling before you for so long that the rough fabric of his pants burned and skidded against the tender skin of his knees, sending excruciating stings along the threads of his flesh.
"I—No…N-No…I can't." Idia's lips quiver, eyes glossing over as he diverts his gaze. The weight of his arms lay heavy against your legs, elbows resting by your knees while his dull nails dug into the skin at the back of your thighs.
"Why's that?" You whisper.
Idia shut his eyes. The flash of numerous dreams and nightmares he's suffered at the hands of his own demented twisted memories clouded his mind. It did not help that they were all molded out of his own self-inflicted pessimism...cruel and unforgiving. A reason as to why he couldn't bear to look at you tonight, not when the image of your mangled body was still fresh on his mind.
"I-I'm s-sor-sorry…I ca-can't get up…I need to…” he stumbles for words, his breathing picking up its pace. "I need to…need to know you're okay."
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✩—VIL SCHOENHEIT:
"Vil…" You worriedly murmur, pressing your lips against his mascara-stained cheeks, not minding the bitter aftertaste it left lingering in your mouth.
Laying atop the plush silk sheets of his king-sized bed, the dorm leader's eyes were ripped wide open as his chest heaved viciously. It was quite a rare sight as your lover lay vulnerable before you, heart bared open.
Oh, he was an absolute mess.
Dark streams of teary mascara ran down Vil's cheeks, his uniform wrinkled and his golden hair splayed out everywhere—unbound from its braids and tangled up.
The grip of his arms around your midsection tightens as he pressed you up closer against him, his head resting atop your chest. At the sound of your heartbeat, Vil allowed himself to unwind and let your affections banish away even the most ominous of his thoughts.
"Liebling…Es tut mir ehrlich Leid—" Vil rasps, his mother tongue dripping like honey from his lips as he suddenly found it difficult to speak the language he was so accustomed to every day.
Hushing him, you press a fleeting kiss against his brow line and Vil clamps his red-rimmed eyes shut, ceasing to say anything more.
"Hush now. Rest, my prince." You press a gentle kiss to his temple and brush the frizzes of his blonde hair away from his face.
A small smile quirks on his lips as he feels his stomach fluttering from the nickname. The look in his eyes is softly lit, warm like a candle.
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✩—MALLEUS DRACONIA:
One day, Malleus knows, you will be nothing more than wilted and withered ash.
It was a truth that wrapped around him like shackling chains—tearing, whipping and lashing against his raw, bare skin. No matter how hard he pulled, scratched, and screamed at it, the chains remained.
The clanging and grating iron truth about reality cannot be so easily pushed away. Human lives are fickle, and you would inevitably leave him.
Once you do, the fae prince knows he will be a mere shadow of his former self, a wretched and lonesome creature awaiting and longing for his lover who was no more than a ghost of his fleeting memories.
"I apologize for the disturbance, my treasure."
And yet, Malleus presses his hand firmly against your beating heart. A distant marching beat serving as his reminder that you were very much alive and well.
"I truly apologize." Malleus heaves, hands clamouring against your collarbone.
Although thick tension and silence still hung heavy in the air, the dragon basked in the warmth and feel of your flushed skin, a bitter smile gracing his lips as he lay beside you on the bed.
"Sweet dreams, beastie…"
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sugurizz · 4 months
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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ── So this was an interesting ask cause it was a big, hard CHALLENGE. Just like Jaekyung's D- *Ahem* Aaanyways Jae and fluff are scientifically opposite terms. So trying to merge the two together feels more difficult than buiding a rocket. But I did it, and tried to keep HIM in character as much as I can, cause let's be honest…he has his tiny fluffy moments too...sometimes, yeah. heh. Anyways enjoy some RARE Jaekyung 'fluff' folkss.
𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐒𝐊.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Just...fluff, Ig?
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You stared at a gloomy, greyish sky through the huge bay window. The spacious emptiness of your roommate's apartment hit heavier in his absence. The raindrops trickled down, gradually getting thicker and louder under the thunderblasts of an imminent storm.
You did a few casual chores around the house, train of thoughts constantly derailing towards him…
− He took you in for a rather transactional reason, and you didn't particularly hate it either. You were in times of rut, torn between multiple jobs and restless days. And he needed someone who had it in them to take him, regardless of his temper and turmoil.
He had a professional to help maintain his fighter career by all means, and you had a luxurious roof over your head. And thus was your secret pact with the charming athlete.−
A louder bang shook you out your thoughts again. The storm running fiercer and wilder added to your unease. And the recurring, almost detonation-sounding noises strained your already worried heart.
You liked the rain, it even soothed you at times. But the violent thunderstorms often made you troubled, almost terrified. it brought fear and unrest in you.. some emotions and memories that you didn't like being brought back to the surface. The tall walls of the apartment resounded with louder rumbles. You cried out as you ran away, an inner instinct in you seeking a hideout narrow enough to shelter you…
____
'What are you in the damn closet for? Thought you were away.' He stared at you; curled up and shaky, holding your knees close to you chest as your hands wrapped over your ears.
You flinched at him sliding the closet door open. The chaotic noises outside had you barely notice him coming home, let alone walking on you in your hideout.
You raised your head and opened you mouth, struggling not to burst in tears. watery eyes and choked hiccups trapped in your throat, you took a deep sigh and tried explaining.
'I…got scared. I hate storms and w-was all by myself…I needed to hide somewhere.' You stuttered, face heating up with embarassment.
The timing was anything but convenient, especially with him fresh out the shower, cheeks pinkish and hair still a bit damp and messy with a towel over his shoulders.
'The heck? You a kid or something?' He huffed with a mean smirk, eyeing you down like some stray kitten on his lawn.
'Ugh. Just get out of there. I'm here anyways, the boogeyman won't eat you this time.'
He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The storm outside was still pretty audible to your ears, and so were the lightning flashing every now and then.
'I-I said I'm afraid…I'll just get out when I settle down.' You uttered, holding your legs closer to you again.
He didn't take what you said for an answer. Neither was he the type to reason with someone. Rather pulling your arm and caging you between him and the closet door sounded like the easiest way he had in mind.
'Still scared now?' He stared dead into your eyes and raised an eyebrow. You locked eyes on his, mortified, no words ready to leave your mouth.
'You're a grown woman, doc. Ya can't be sobbing because of a damn thunderstrom.'
Your head leaned forward, resting on his chest. The pent-up fear made him almost seem like a safe haven to you, and so did his overly tempting closeness against your body.
The tight muscles on his broad chest felt so warm, despite you only touching him for a couple seconds. It had your silly self almost wishing he would actually hold you tight…or even nuzzle you into his neck...
'Oi doc, let go now would ya?' He huffed with an eyeroll, turning his gaze away.
'Y-yeah…sorry.' You flinched away and shook your head, hoping he wouldn't notice the few warm tears you left on his shirt.
'Quite the scaredy cat you are.' He gave you a faint grin as you wiped your cheek.
'I'm hungry. Don't feel like cooking.' He turned around and walked out, hinting at you as he led the way towards the kitchen...
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bedsyandco · 9 months
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The friendship bracelet breaks and Luke is struggling to try and make to new ones but forgets to tell her and she just sees it off his wrist and thinks he took it off on purpose
like it accidentally hooks on something and ends up snapping, the little beads tumbling to the floor. Luke is really upset. He's had that bracelet for so long.
Luke picks up every single one and puts them in a little box, making a mental note to pick up some string from the store so he can make another one.
he was driving Violet home when she noticed it. His hand on the steering wheel and his wrist was looking a little too empty and she saw the bracelet was missing.
it's hard to describe all the emotions she felt and that moment, but they all added up to one big ball of hurt that felt like it was stuck at the bottom of her throat.
she diverted her gaze out the window, blinking her eyes rapidly, hoping to keep the tears at bay.
she wondered why he took it off? was it payback because she took her necklace off? or was he seeing someone and she didn't want him to wear it? he would tell her if he was right? When she got home, she mumbled a half goodbye to Luke and had a big cry
Luke had already bought the new string, but every time he put the beads on....it just looked wrong. maybe it wasn't in the right order? he rearranged them about 5 times, and it still didn't look right. tears pricked his eyes as he got frustrated, and then he got even more frustrated because who cries over a bracelet?
Luke hasn't played a game without this bracelet since he got it, and he wasn't starting now. So he texted Vi that he was on his way and made his way over there.
"Lu, what's wrong? You said it was an emergency, " she says as she answers the door, and he smiles, seeing her in his t-shirt and a messy bun on her head.
"I accidentally broke it. I can't fix it. And I can't concentrate on anything else. Please help me," he begs, holding out his palm, the bracelet hanging between his fingers.
"Come in," Violet says, taking the bracelet from him. They sit at the dining room table while violet starts making the bracelet again.
"You didn't spray perfume on it," Luke blurts out, and vi smiles at him softly before running upstairs and grabbing her perfume, spraying the string with it before continuing to put the beads back on.
"So you didn't take it off?" Violet asks
"What?"
"I thought you took the bracelet off, when I didn't see it on your wrist." She clarifies
"Of course not. I wear it all the time." Luke says as Vi ties the string, standing up and motioning for Luke to hold his hand out so she can put it back on his wrist.
She stands between his legs, still holding his hand and gently brushing her lips over his knuckles. Luke's other hand cups the back of her leg, gently running up and down. When his hand goes up a little too high, she steps back and clears her throat.
"You should probably go," she whispers, and Luke makes his way out of the house and into his car, smiling when he sees the bracelet on his wrist. Content to have atleast a little part of her with him.
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gabessquishytum · 2 months
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Morpheus is a demisexual incubus. In other words, being him sucks. He doesn't want to have intercourse with any strangers, thank you very much. He's been feeling like a failure for a long time because what's his worth if he cannot perform his function? And he just can't have one-night stands, it feels very wrong to him. Eventually, after centuries of starvation, he finds a solution: he simply creates dreams of a sexual nature for sleeping minds instead of actually having sex. This is much better. Now, he'd really love to find a loving partner...The problem is, the creatures/gods/humans he tries to date all have a very wrong idea of him. Well, they have the right idea of most of his species - incubuses are beings whose existence is defined by sex - but Morpheus looks for emotional connection and a deeper bond…that's why he gets dumped every time he refuses to give it on the first date. Hob Gadling is a sexaholic. He homewrecked a marriage (or two...or three...or four. he didn't count, alright?), left a string of broken hearts in the aftermath of whirlwind nights, and simply ruined lots of chances for a happy, fulfilling relationship. He's been in therapy for some time now to manage his addiction, and he believes he's ready to give a committed relationship a try. He really strives to maintain sexual sobriety this time and be a better partner. When Hob sees a gorgeous dark-haired stranger with electric blue eyes in a cafe, it's love - and lust - at first sight. The man is beautiful, and, oh, what Hob wouldn't give to bend him over in the gents...But hey, he knows it leads nowhere, so he shakes off the reverie and approaches the stranger, trying to keep himself at bay. And to think of serious intentions. Morpheus is very guarded at first: being an incubus, he can see dreams, nightmares, and daydreams of a sexual nature, and he's ready to bolt together with his cappuccino and pain au chocolat the very moment he catches a whiff of Hob's fantasies about him. However, Hob does his best to conceal his struggle, and Morpheus...stays. They talk a bit, and then a lot, and even have a walk in the park. Hob is smart, funny, and very charming. Morpheus immensely enjoys their spontaneous date. When it comes to the end, Hob doesn't invite Morpheus to his place, but he makes it clear that he'd like to see him again. Morpheus is secretly delighted: he's seen a whole Kama Sutra featuring himself in Hob's mind during their date, but Hob is being so sweet and considerate! Perhaps it means something. He agrees to meet again but tries not to get his hopes high. After all, it's just a second date, and his natural allure of incubus is almost impossible to resist even for a person without sex addiction. How many dates will it take for Hob to get into Morpheus' pants? And will he be able not to break his heart and stay faithful? Who knows...
This is SUCH a good au. Good on Hob for going to therapy, I’m proud of him. And good on Morpheus for giving him a chance, despite all the HD dirty thoughts that are projecting out of his brain!
The thing about Hob is, everybody might as well be an incubus, as far as he’s concerned. Every adult person that he meets is a threat to his sobriety. He has those kinds of thoughts on a near constant basis, as Morpheus begins to realise when they spend more time together. And for Morpheus this is actually a huge bonus. Knowing that Hob sees him just as he sees the rest of the world is actually quite soothing. Hob doesn’t want to fuck him because he’s an incubus - he might as well be immune to Morpheus’s sex magic, because he’s constantly at full capacity already! He genuinely likes Morpheus for his personality as well as wanting to get freaky with him.
Plus Hob is one of the more understanding people that Morpheus has spoken to about his demisexualness. Hob has experienced an extremely heightened sense of sexual attraction for much of his life, and it’s always felt out of his control. So he understands what it is to have a different relationship with sex. He’d never want Morpheus to force himself into sex. Although he is somewhat concerned that his friend (date? friend who he is dating?) may not be feeding as much as he should be.
Ultimately they both want the same thing: an emotional bond, a closer connection. Hob is deeply afraid of fucking it up but he really really likes Morpheus, could maybe ever love him? At least he feels like love actually does exist when Morpheus is around. For half a minute he can stop thinking about sex and just think about Morpheus’s pretty blue eyes and his tiny little smile… he’s stopped counting how many dates they’ve been on without fucking. And Morpheus? Well, he’s starting to feel like sex with Hob would actually be rather nice.
Maybe there’s a place for them to meet in the middle. It doesn’t have to be everything or nothing. At the very least, Morpheus is positive that Hob will taste like the most intoxicating of drugs. And he’s starving for it.
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juiles · 1 year
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You are my world
Summary: You are Natasha’s daughter. With everyone on a mission you are alone at the compound and get hurt. luckily they come back in time to save you but it shakes Nat and Wanda (your gf) hard.
Type: hurt/comfort
Triggers: stabbing, shooting, surgery (idk if i missed anything)
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You bolted upright in your bed when you heard the compound door thud. Your bedroom was pitch black and you thought you were alone as everyone had left for a mission except you and Peter as you had school and “couldn’t miss it” and Peter was at his apartment.
You quickly shot out of bed and grabbed the gun you kept in your bedside drawer and made your way down to the living room. There was another bang and the door to the kitchen was kicked open and you saw a random man stumbling out. You caught the sight of a Hydra symbol on his jacket and quickly pounced. You landed on his shoulders and threw him to the ground.
“What are you doing here?!” You hissed into his ear as he was face down on the floor. The man mumbled something before his hand was reached up and stabbed you in the stomach with a knife. You shot him in the head and stumbled away from his dead body grasping at the knife in your stomach.
You slumped to the ground against a wall gasping in pain. The door swung open and you saw Tony, Thor and Clint standing with their weapons drawn before Clint saw you and dropped his bow quickly.
“Shit.” He fell to his knees and quickly put pressure around the knife in your stomach. “Call cho and Bruce! She needs immediate attention!” He screamed making both men instantly jump into action after seeing you.
“Uncle Clint…” You muttered grasping his arm as your eyes started to flutter.
“No kid. You gotta keep them open. Your mum needs you here.” He was panicking and you could tell.
“Tell mama i’m sorry…” You gasped out before slumping limply against the wall.
The next few minutes was a blur as the three men quickly got you to the ned bay where Bruce and Cho quickly had you in surgery and the men were in the waiting room pacing.
Tony’s head snapped up when the door swung open and a panicked Wanda and Natasha stood trying to catch their breath. Natasha held up your bracelet that must have fallen off that was covered in blood.
“She’s in surgery! She’ll be fine!” Clint scrambled to run to the red head and placing his hands on her shoulders. “Bruce and Cho are with her. She’ll be okay.”
Natasha stood tense as she stared at her best friend searching his eyes. After a glance at Wanda who nodded, tears streaming down her face, she nodded and fell into his arms. “Okay… okay…”
Wanda stared at the floor as Tony wrapped an arm around the young girls shoulder. “She’ll be okay. She’s tough.”
After an hour, the door swung open and the group all looked up at the doctor who had a smile on his face. “She’s already awake. She’s tough Nat. You raised a good one.”
Natasha’s face instantly turned into a watery smile and she followed the man to your room where you were laid in your bed staring at the ceiling. You glanced over at your mother as she sat beside you before looking back up.
“Hey detka…” She muttered taking your hand gently. “What happened?”
“He was loud… woke me up… I didn’t see the knife… how could i not see the fucking knife…?” You muttered squeezing your eyes shut. “It was a stupid mistake…”
“Hey. No. None of that baby… you are young. It was dark.” She said pushing the hair out of your face. “This was not your fault. You stopped him. On your own.”
You shook your head taking a deep breath and sat up slowly. “How was your mission?” You asked, clearly not wanting to have this conversation. You had grown up in the red room and still struggled to not show your emotions.
“No. You need to let it out detka… what happened had to have been scary… i would have been scared.” Natasha said scooting on to the bed beside you, you instantly melted into her arms and laid your head on her chest. “Let it out malyshka.”
You felt your walls crumble as her hands ran through your bright red hair. You collapsed into your mothers arms and started sobbing. “мама это было так страшно” She sighed knowing you faulted to russian when your emotions were high. “я был так напуган, и все, что я хотел, это ты, маma.”
(“I was so scared mama”, “i was so scared and all i wanted was you mommy.”)
“I know baby… у мамы есть ты ребенок.” She muttered, rocking you back and forth gently as she ran her fingers up and down your spine.
(mama has you baby)
After about 10 minutes you managed to settle down and finally pulled up sniffling and wiped your face with the blanket. “Thank you mama…” You peered through the window of your room and a small smile graced your face when you saw Wanda standing talking to Clint.
“Of course baby.” Natasha smiled following your line of vision. “I’ll go get her моя любовь.”
(my love)
You blushed fucking your head down. “Thanks mama…”
You stared at your hands as your mother kissed your head gently before getting up from the bed and pushed the door open letting it softly shut behind her. You looked back up when the door opened again and your two pairs of green eyes met.
“Hi…” You whispered and Wanda instantly ran to your bed, falling beside you and pulling you gently into her arms. “I’m okay baby… I’m okay.” You muttered into her brown hair pulling her close to you.
“I was so scared… there was so much blood…” Wanda muttered clutched your shirt as you felt the tears soak your shirt. “Clint’s mind was so loud i couldn’t help but see it… god that image will never go away… i can’t lose you Y/N. You are the world to me dorogoy…”
(sweetheart)
“I know baby… but i’m okay. i promise i’m okay.” You ran your fingers through her brown hair gently as she settled down. “I can’t leave you or mama. You know that Wanda. You are my world.”
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chuuyrr · 2 years
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Ohhh I love your Scarlet Witch series a lot. I love dad gojo sm. How about scarlet witch reader but she is also a first year along with megumi, yuji and nobara. 4 of them and dad gojo. I just can't stop thinking about it.
scarlet witch! fushiguro! reader being a first year student together with yuuji, megumi & nobara
jujutsu kaisen x reader
masterlist of the series
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╰➤ CW(s): major spoilers for jujutsu kaisen, mentions of scarlet witch's powers, mainly headcanons + drabbles
╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! jujutsu kaisen x reader (adoptive dad! gojo satoru and tokyo jujutsu tech students)
╰➤ SYNOPSIS: what if scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader was the nearly same age as megumi the time gojo got her and with that—you end up becoming a first year student at jujutsu tech with your beloved older brother megumi?
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╰➤ i think you would have the same reaction as kid! megumi when gojo approached him and took him into custody, because just who the fuck is this strange-looking goof with black round sunglasses and snow-white hair??
╰➤ ngl, i think you would have nearly kicked gojo between the legs too because, for one thing, you were a daddy's girl. before leaving you and deciding to take on that mission involving a certain star plasma vessel, your papa toji taught you everything you needed to know. he practically taught you not to trust strangers and how to defend yourself without your wiggly-woos magic knowing how special you are as your mother had said.
╰➤ but, as soon as gojo mentioned that you have a brother and even a sister, you became emotional.
"you don't have to be alone anymore, [name]."
╰➤ it had never been easy for someone like you who had spent most of her childhood alone, having to constantly change homes due to your father's job as an assassin and such. so you took gojo's offer to stay with him—and it turned out to be the best decision you had ever made.
╰➤ unlike kid! megumi or even a kid! tsumiki, you developed a father-daughter bond with gojo while growing up in his care. you two just clicked and were chaotic. unlike megumi and tsumiki, who address gojo as teacher, you openly refer to gojo as your dad.
╰➤ spoiler alert: gojo may or may not have cried when you called him dad.
╰➤ your relationship with gojo, on the other hand, had a rocky start. you just couldn't replace toji, even if he left you behind. you also struggled to adjust to having a permanent home and living with strangers, especially when it came to trusting gojo with your secret—how you didn't have cursed energy but rather something else—chaos magic.
╰➤ gojo was taken aback because, once again, despite having something like that, he couldn't feel any cursed energy from you.
╰➤ you expected him to rat you out and be disappointed because he comes from a clan that's pretty much a big deal, but you were surprised when gojo simply ruffled your hair and smiled down at you, telling you how special you are and promising to keep your secret.
╰➤ spoiler alert (again): you cried just as hard as he did when you called him your dad.
╰➤ gojo, megumi and you had no intention of getting yourself to enroll in jujutsu tech. in fact, you were already attending a "normal" school, but a student only had to eat one of ryomen sukuna's fingers to be cursed and nearly executed by the higher-ups. it gave you deja vu.
╰➤ with your father, gojo satoru, being able to stop the execution of yuuji, a condition was made for you to enroll and become a first-year student at jujutsu tech alongside the vessel in order to keep the special grade curse ryomen sukuna at bay while also being the one to stop (and execute) itadori yuuji in the event something goes horribly wrong while yuuta okkotsu is overseas.
╰➤ the higher-ups were already aware of your ability because you had previously demonstrated and used it, but you had to be held back due to your issue with the higher-ups viewing you as a threat and being unable to accept the fact that you, a non-curse user, possessed such power in secret. (but really, they simply cannot accept that you, our dear fushiguro [name], are a baddie 😒💅)
╰➤ to be fair, you didn't want to enroll in the first place, but yuuji influenced you now, so it wasn't just the condition. you've also realized that you can't keep your powers—your chaos magic—hidden forever. you can put it to good use too.
╰➤ congratulations! you, as well as yuuji and nobara, are now officially first-year students! and because of gojo's request, you even have a scarlet-colored uniform (that is similar to mcu! wanda maximoff's attire during age of ultron.)
╰➤ you definitely clicked with yuuji because you two were bestowed with such a gift that makes you both cursed and blessed at the same time.
╰➤ apart from yuuji, you also instantly clicked with nobara because you were both the only girls in the group. furthermore, you two shared a love of fashion and interests ><
╰➤ yuuji and nobara were shocked to learn that you were megumi's (half) little sibling because you looked nothing like him—but that's not true because you do get the "fushiguro look" when you're angry or frenzied in the middle of a fight.
╰➤ both yuuji and nobara were surprised to learn that gojo is technically your father and maybe megumi's as well, but mostly because you openly call gojo your dad.
╰➤ because you are the youngest of the group, the first years are protective of you, just as your adoptive father gojo is. (it's literally kikufuku protection squad again! ><)
╰➤ like, you know when megumi is approached by a girl in public, and they all have a plan? they have something similar for you (💀)
╰➤ please, as the scarlet witch with toji's blood running through your veins, you get attention every now and then for your goddess-like beauty, whether from a boy, a girl, or literally anyone.
╰➤ you see yuuji as your older brother, so you address him as "yuuji-nii-san," just as you do with your actual (half) older brother megumi, and nobara as "nobara-nee-san."
╰➤ in contrast to the og! scarlet witch! baby fushiguro—you have a beef with ryomen sukuna, just as you have a beef with the higher-ups, particularly gakuganji.
╰➤ you remember that mission where yuuji let sukuna take control of him and the result was him ripping yuuji's heart out? that irritated you greatly. so, what exactly did you do? you threw hands in ryomen sukuna's domain ;)
╰➤ sukuna was taken aback to see you because, once again, you don't have cursed energy, and he clearly didn't expect you to be this powerful.
╰➤ your powers weren't particularly strong at the time yet, but when you thrashed his place and threatened him after yeeting him across the domain, sukuna sensed something sinister within you, especially with the way your eyes were glowing a dangerous red color as you unleashed psionics of your chaos magic.
╰➤ sukuna couldn't wait to see you grow stronger and eventually become the scarlet witch, the all-powerful being prophesied to rule everything and destroy the world.
╰➤ you take every opportunity to annoy gakuganji, and gojo is so proud of you, while gakuganji is like, "damn you gojo satoru for raising this monster to be just like you!!"
╰➤ in general, not much has changed. you were still a bundle of mischief and chaos, as well as a total badass. you were also still very close to gojo, the first and even second year students of tokyo jujutsu tech—just like how the og! scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader is.
╰➤ the only thing that had changed was how much more confident you were around the higher-ups and how you first reacted to meeting gojo because you weren't a baby when he took you in; you were already nearly megumi's age and got raised by toji before he left.
╰➤ with that being said, you got toji's cool-headedness, confidence, sarcastic and calculating attitude despite being sweet and all.
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[ author's notes ! thank you so much for requesting for dearest anon, i had so much fun writing this hehe ♡ ]
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onecantsimply · 2 years
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Okay so Ai got a repost that had a tag about the angst for this post-
So-
WE’RE MAKING A VERSION OF WHEN THEY SURVIVE AND WHEN THEY DIE- NOW LET’S GO-
-
You Live:
ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤:
• Through all the wounds, through all that agony, and through all those struggles against that God, you had won. You had been announced as the winner as your opponent shattered into green particles from behind you. And Heracles couldn’t be happier. He was crying during that match but he won’t admit it-
- But when he sees you returning to your tunnel with your Valkyrie partner helping you, he quickly makes his way towards the sick bay. Bet your ass he’s running because he wants to see you as soon as possible. And when he does, he’s immediately by your side as you get bandaged up. He knows he can’t really give you a hug since you’re really damn injured, but he can give you kisses-
- He will not hold back with them, guaranteed. While you’re getting bandaged up by a doctor, Heracles is gripping your hand, spilling how worried he was when you had gotten yourself injured. Though, hope shall never waver, because he was very fucking relieved when you had won. Even through the amount of time that had to be wasted just for you to get your edge-
• And right when you’re recovered, Heracles throws a good party for you- At that point he’s going to get drunk and he’ll spill everything. All his emotions, all his hugs, all his kisses, everything- Mans is vulnerable-
ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕤:
• The gentle smile filled with relief that makes it onto his face is immediately visible once he sees your opponent shatter into the pieces of green shards. And as Heimdall announces your victory, Hermes finally lets go of breath he had been holding for what seemed like forever.
- Now, Hermes finds it necessary to help you to the med bay. He has no care for people that try to stop him. Not when you’re most likely waiting for him while walking down the tunnel. And in the instant he greets you down that hall, Hermes has a firm grip on your hand, as well as a firm hug to your figure.
- He just can’t help it when he’s been so worried for you in that bout against a God. His worry soon starts to disappear when he sees you getting bandaged up. And due to his own work, he cannot stay there very long, but he will make sure to visit you when he can.
- By the time you’re recovered, Hermes is already waiting for you, having a few gifts ready for you for your win. Be prepared for cuddle sessions and gentle kisses to your forehead, because that is most of what Hermes will give you when he’s cuddling you in bed.
𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟:
• Goodness. Good fucking goodness. Odin isn’t exactly cracking an expression at it, but he visibly lets go of his chair and tenses down. Instead of showing his relief in public, he keeps it inside until he’s in a private space with you.
- While he is not exactly the one to be emotional, even in private, he is still sensible enough to give you a few hugs, kisses, as well as a few words of congratulations for winning. It wasn’t on the side he wanted it to be on, but he’s still glad of your win, as well as your survival-
- Like Hermes, Odin is almost always busy, so he does have to go away after a small bit. Though, he will be sure to visit you at least once more while you’re in recovery. Without Huginn and Muginn, of course. Those crows do not know how to stay silent. Odin had to grab them by the throat to keep them from yelling out how he was with you in the hospital.
- Though, while you are done recovering, Odin can finally have the time he needs with you once he gets home. That’s where he’s most comfortable, and more capable of speaking. He will make sure you don’t get into any more situations that include fighting. He’ll deal with it himself.
You Die:
ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤:
• He knew it was coming. He fucking knew it was coming. So why is he behaving like he wasn’t ready for your death? He feels somewhat numb, even if he can hear and feel himself starting to tear up. Your apology towards him as you start to shatter into green particles… It almost broke him down completely.
- Hearing the sneers and shouts of the Gods in the crowd didn’t make it any better. Not when they were insulting your name for daring to want to keep Humanity alive. At least… At least in his own battle, maybe he could join you, along with the fallen Humans and Gods just before.
- Now Heracles isn’t exactly the same for a few days, no matter how much he wants to be. Ares is concerned for him. It’s as if the literal Sun in the world had shut itself down. Though, Heracles knew that crying or moaning about it wouldn’t bring you back. So he had to be strong for his own side, and count on the memories he had before.
- While he is out of that depression phase, he’s more serious, and doesn’t seem to smile as much. The only thing he does smile at is the memories of you, or the things that remind him of you. Though, as soon as he remembers his goal, he goes right back to being serious. Ragnarok changed him for the worst.
ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕤:
• Utter silence from the man himself as he watches your wounds get the better of you, and allow your opponent to kill you. Those very same wounds make your body shatter into green particles, keeping Hermes in his fit of silence.
- His movements are completely still, and his eyes dully stare towards where you previously were. The cheers of the Gods for their handpicked fighter, as well as the yelling of disgust towards your name had Hermes washed in an emotion of something he hadn’t felt in a while.
Utter hatred.
- He supposed that this was your fate, though. You did go against the Gods just to fight for a race like Humanity. But even so, Hermes was still your significant other. And he still cared for you. He’s just glad that he made you as happy as you could be in your final moments with him.
- And within the walls of his own home, it feels empty without you to be by his side in bed. Alone once again, and Hermes has to get used to it. His silence is what he will treat almost everyone with, although he will still do the tasks he is assigned to do. The only thing on his mind is you, and will forever be kept that way for as long as he lived.
𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟:
• Well, it was to be expected. And yet, Odin can’t help but have that gnawing pain at his own heart and soul. He can’t hear anything as he grips the arms of his chair until it breaks from his force. His silent glare is focused on the God that had made you shatter before his very eyes.
- Seeing how they had walked into the tunnel, victorious and happy at their own win… It made him sick. Especially when he saw the other Gods laughing and presumably yelling. He couldn’t hear them, but he knew what they were doing. They were making fun of you.
- He will make sure that they never make fun of you ever again with one deathly glare all aimed at them. Huginn and Muginn had flew off of his shoulders while the Gods quieted down. And with that, Odin had made his way out of the stadium, knowing fully well that he would never see you again.
- He kept himself stoic, and he kept himself normal. Though that nagging feeling never left his heart, so he chose to honor you in his own heart, keeping his feelings for you once again tucked away so he could stay normal. One more win for the Gods. Just a few more to go before the memories could be gone for one thousand more years.
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megumichanxxx · 2 months
Text
Zayne: Tender Respite
I feel weak, cold, and hungry. The streets were already empty and I could only hear the siren of an ambulance in the distance.
A mild wind blew, sending thrills down my spine. I slowly walked to the nearest source of light – a barely lit bus stop. I kneeled close to its sign in search of shelter from the piercing frost. It provided a bit of comfort. It was not enough for me as the cold had settled into my bones. My eyes have become fuzzy from hunger and extreme exhaustion.
I felt the unexpected presence of someone standing close to me and I stared at them.I could see a silhouette of someone I assumed was on a medical mission that wouldn't be completed until the end of the month.
It couldn’t be him.
Time appeared to stand still as he approached me. I caught him raising his hand, almost as if to pat me on the head. A gesture only he and Caleb would make. He paused a little. But without saying anything, he placed his coat around my shivering shoulder. Then, I felt his hand on my head. The warmth of him seemed to chase away the chill that had sunk deep within me.
I was about to remove his coat, but he gently stopped me.
"You're shivering. Keep my coat on. You should go home. We... should go home." His voice was laced with tenderness and concern.
I remained silent, too drained and worn to even form words. I didn't budge in my spot. He held my hand and urged me to get up. With open arms, he invited me into his embrace.
I hesitated for a moment.
"Come here." he encouraged, arms still open.
I took a deep breath and closed the distance between us. My arms found their way around his waist as the first tears began to fall. I clung to him. My sobs broke free as I felt the steady rhythm of his heart. The tears I'd fought to keep at bay now freely flowed.  My tears poured without restraint. My body shuddered with each sob.  I’m holding onto him like he is my lifeline.
"Zayne, Tara's gone"  I choked out, each word laden with pain. My face was buried in his chest. My tears soaking his shirt. But at that moment, neither of us cared. I allowed myself to fully give in to my grief.
“I was able to save Jenna. I was there for Xavier when he needed help. But Tara—" My speech was interrupted by sobs. It made it hard to breathe. My eyes burned with tears.
"I couldn't save her. I tried." As I cried, he held me closer.
Zayne held me tighter. He rubbed my back gently.
"Sshhhh... I'm here for you" he said.
"I succeeded in rescuing those who were important to me. I managed to ensure the safety of the civilians. I supported them... Why couldn't I prevent her fate?" Tears streamed down my face as I spoke. I’ve struggled in voicing my emotions.
Zayne gently placed his hand on my cheek.
"Stop. Please don't blame yourself. You did everything you could."  he reassured, locking eyes with me as his gaze met mine. He tenderly kissed my forehead then lightly grazed the tip of my nose and finally brushed the top of my lips.
"I wish I could have saved her," I murmured, burdened by guilt.
"That's enough."  he insisted firmly.
"But-"
"Stop blaming yourself. It was beyond your control. What happened to her was an accident."
"But I-"
"Enough. That's enough, Love."
Zayne planted kisses on my cheek wiping away each teardrop.
"You saved lives. You protected the ones you cared for. You did well. You did well, Love."
Zayne kissed me on the lips. His warm and soft lips felt like heaven. Gradually my sobs subsided as I found solace in his embrace.
We stayed locked in our embrace until our lips separated. I gazed at him, taking in his every detail. The comforting heat radiating from his body. The strands of his hair cascading over his eyebrows. I absorbed the intensity of his gaze that made me feel secure and cherished.
I embraced him again tightly. He enveloped me in his arms. He planted a kiss on the crown of my head. It was just a simple gesture but it reassured me, in its own subtle way.
"Zayne..." I looked up. He wiped away my remaining tears with his thumb. "You are here. You are not leaving?" I asked in a hoarse voice.
"I am right here," he replied. "I won't leave."
I sighed and rested my head again in his chest. We stayed like that for a while, taking in the cool night air. My heart warmed up a little bit more.
He was right. He is here. He is not going anywhere. I won't lose him. He won't be gone.
"We should go home." Zayne said.
I looked up at him and gave a faint smile. He brushed the stray hair from my face.
"Let's go home." I whispered.
He gave a nod and gently took my hand, leading me away from the bus stop.
As we drove away from the no-hunt zone, the memories of the events began to fade. I felt my body relaxing. I turned to look at him. His eyes were fixed on the road. I took in his profile and felt his hand intertwine mine. 
Zayne caressed my thumb with his as our hands linked.
"Everything's going to be alright" he assured me, giving my hand a comforting squeeze.
I squeezed his hand in return and gave him a slight nod. 
I believed him. Everything will be okay.
I will be okay.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The car ride home was silent. I was tired. Exhausted. I wanted to forget about everything and go straight to bed. Upon reaching our home, Zayne led me to our bedroom.
"Go take a shower. I'll get something for you to eat" he suggested.
I shook my head slightly.
"I'm not really feeling hungry" I whispered.
"But you haven't eaten yet."
"A drink might be okay. I just... I just can't eat right now."
"Alright, then. Just shower and get some rest" he responded, handing me towels and fresh clothes.
I undressed in the bathroom and stepped into the shower. I’ve let the comforting warmth of water wash over me. As I scrubbed away the day's blood, sweat, and dirt, a sense of physical relief slowly enveloped me. It felt good but it still couldn't dissipate the lingering chill of my emotions.
 I got lost in thought. I remembered what Tara told me when I was in a slump.
“You are a strong person. You have the power to achieve greatness. Remember that. Don't fret about the future. Focus on now.”.
A slight smile found its way onto my face.
She was right.
The here and now is all that I truly have. It’s invaluable. I am still alive.
My friends haven't left my side. Zayne is still here.
And there’s still the future, I vow to live as fully as I can.
Exiting the shower, I quickly patted myself dry with a towel and wrapped it around myself. I slipped into my pajamas and.returned to our room. I feel slightly refreshed.
Zayne was sitting on the bed, waiting for me. He was gazing at a photo from our engagement party on the nightstand. The joy on our faces was a stark contrast to the day's events. He looked up as I was approaching him.
“Zayne, I’m done. You can take a shower now.”
“Later.” He stood up and hugged me. "Are you better?" He asked.
"Yes, thanks to you" I answered.
"Good.” He kissed me. “Try to get some rest. It's been a tough day."
"Will you stay with me?"
He smiled.
"Always. I'll be here until you fall asleep. And when morning comes."
I settled into bed, pulling the covers around me. I turned to face him. He pulled the blankets over my shoulders and tucked me in. He laid down beside me. I moved closer to him. Resting my head upon his chest, I was lulled by the regular beat of his heart.
I felt safe. Comforted. Loved.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head.
“Okay, Rest for a while.”
I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion take over.
I was almost drifting off when he started humming a melody. I knew it but couldn’t remember where I’d heard it before. I listened intently to his soft, gentle voice. It was calming. I feel relaxed. The song he hummed sounded like a lullaby. I could feel myself getting drowsy. 
“I love you.” I whispered.
“I love you too.” He replied.
"Goodnight, Zayne" I murmured, already succumbing to sleep.
"Goodnight, My love," he replied softly, kissing my forehead.
As sleep took over, I felt his arm wrapped around me. He is holding me close, and I smiled.
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lunargrapejuice · 2 years
Text
love is sweet
satoru gojo x afab!reader with no pronouns used | 1.7k + words
when the weight of the world feels like too much and only satoru can help, in ways only satoru can
warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, soft smut, anxious/stressed out reader, sensory overload mentions, crying, lots of pet names, not a great way to cope with your issues but i needed it so here we are, unedited
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sometimes the stress and feelings of everyday life are too much, making it to tomorrow seems like an impossible task and yet everyday you push forward. the weight on your shoulders gets heavier and heavier no matter how much it feels like you can’t take it anymore and with each passing day you feel it bringing you further into the cold, dark ground. 
you knows it's partly your own fault. if you could just articulate yours feelings and worries in words maybe you could talk about it, get it off your chest and allow someone to help but that's never been how you’ve done things. always having to learn things the hard way, so many people have described your failures and struggles as such and maybe they’re right. how much longer would you choose to suffer in silence when your heart is screaming for help, how much longer would you push down the lid with all your mite, attempting to keep everything at bay when you feel your emotions bubbling over? would anyone even care to listen when the words of your heart finally make it out of your mouth or when you needed help cleaning up the mess you could no longer stop from spilling over the edge? 
there are a few in your life that you think might care but are you really ready to let it all out? to show what you think is the ugliest side of you to those you hold close? even if they’ve seen it before you hate when you slip and let those uncomfortable emotions show. you have to put on a good face, you don't want to upset anyone by being an imperfect vision of yourself.
some days the perfectionism you expect from yourself needs a lot of strength to hold together but it’s strength you don't always have and you feel it dwindling. work emails that you have to read multiple times have tears pricking at your eyes; no matter how many times you read the words they pass by and any information they may contain doesn’t register in your brain. loud cars outside make your skin crawl. on top of the thoughts in your head it's all too much. even the music you normally play in your headphones seems so overwhelming but somehow the silence is even worse, giving your anxious thoughts the perfect place to play their annoying tunes, to be as loud as they’d like. 
the distractions you’ve planned ahead for yourself when you get like this don’t seem to be working either. the entire world around you is loud and suffocating, swirling with anger and stress and worries you’ve put off too long that won’t quiet down, that can’t be drowned out by anime or video games or manga.
there’s only one person you know that can draw your mind away from the most intense storms that rage and crash in your heart and before you fully register where you are and how or when you actually got there, you’re already knocking on his door with fightly balled up fists. 
“well hello there my little mochi, what a sweet surprise.”
sartorus cooing voice pulls your gaze from the gray carpet, taking notice of the casual clothes he was wearing but when you look up into his sparkling cerulean eyes you aren’t sure if coming here was a good or bad idea. you’re not good at hiding from those eyes.
before he can look at your face long enough to see the pain and stress you try so hard to hide, you press into him. reaching up for his face with both hands and pulling his lips to yours as you move deeper into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind you with your heel. 
satoru easily falls into rhythm with your movements, not missing a beat when you kiss him deep and desperate or tug at the strands of his white hair. the moan he lets slip past his lips when you tug a little harder than you normally do is sinful, electrifying and you hope maybe it’s enough to pull you from this stupor. strong hands find their way behind yours legs, eager fingers sinking into the fat of your thighs before lifting you off the ground and making his way towards the bedroom. your lips never part even though you’re finding it hard to breathe. all you want to feel is this, to feel him; anything but this uncomfortableness in your chest and the looming darkness that covers your shoulders like a heavy cloak. 
your back meets the soft plush of his mattress and you flex your legs around him, pulling sartorus hardening dick to your clothed cunt. he smirks against your lips and finally pulls away for so much needed air. his bright eyes stand out in the dim light of the room and you can feel his gaze eating you up. you need to move, to do anything to stop him from looking too deep and seeing that which you try so hard to hide
“please fuck me ‘toru,” you beg, reaching out for him and closing your eyes before your gazes meet. could he have seen the tears on the rims of your eyes in this lighting? you hope not. but it doesn’t matter because your voice gives you away. no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t hide the strain in your voice, not from someone who has memorized each octave of the sound he found most lovely in the world.
satoru feels his heart drop to his stomach and pulls away from you, his once eager expression turning to worry. “bunny, what’s wrong?”
his anxious tone almost brings your not so well put together walls crumbling down into nothing but sand. you can feel him looking at you but you don’t open your eyes, too afraid you’ll cry if you get a good look at him. instead you bring your hands up to your face in an attempt to hide and avoid his question, close yourself off but long and slender fingers that have no intention of letting you slip past them wrap around your wrists and pull your hands far away until they’re resting against something hard and filled with warmth; his chest.
“y/n…” his voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “..have i done something wrong?”
hot tears spill from your closed eyes out without permission. this was exactly what you didn’t want.. you didn’t want to hurt or burden him or make him worry.. how is it that you’ve made the most confident man you knowsquestion if he was the problem? something was wrong with you, not him, never him. 
“no love.. not at all..”
he lets go of one of your wrists but you keep it on his chest, his heat and the beating inside his chest calming your own racing heart. his touches come to your face, gently wiping the tears away but they’re only replaced with more. “what is it then?”
his touch coaxes your eyes open and even though you want to look away or stop crying like a baby underneath him, you can’t bring yourself to do either. using his shirt under your fingers you pull him close again. if he really wanted to he could have resisted but he doesn’t and he lets you pepper kisses onto his exposed neck.
“dont wanna talk about it,” you say through the press of your lips to his soft skin, his sugary scent filling your nose and your tears salting your tongue. “i just want you.. please..” 
“angel-”
“‘toru!” your cry of his name cuts off his words and the force you use to pull him closer has him almost unable to stop his body from completely crushing yours, only barely to move his hand to hold himself above you, but you wouldn’t care if it did. you just needed to stop him before there was no turning back, before your emotions burst into a raging sea and took you both down with it. burying your face into his neck, letting his snowy hair tickle your forehead, you push out the last bit of words your body can muster and hope it’s enough to convince him to give into your wishes, even though you both know it’s not the best way to cope with what’s on your mind. “don’t want to think about anything but you so please.. help me forget about it.. just for a little while.”
“okay,” he says tenderly against the side of your head and uses his strength to lift you from the bed and into his lap. his next words are whispered on your lips as you tug at and unbutton his shirt, your eyes still weeping but he’d be sure to stop them soon enough. “it’s okay, i’ve got you.”
every movement he makes is slow and considerate, with enough pressure you remind you he’s there and to lean on him but enough gentleness to remind you that you would be okay and if all else failed, he would be there to hold you through it all. he would ensure nothing, not even your own mind, could harm you. he wouldn’t allow it and as the strongest, he would make and keep that promise to you over and over again. 
any clothes you both had on were left forgotten on his bedroom floor and all that remained on your body was lingering warmth from each kiss his lips placed on it and he didn’t let a single spot go untouched. 
over your relationship together you have known satoru to be many things; forward. teasing. annoying. sweet like the candy he so often ate. a lover who could fuck you hard and fast, tame a bratty side of you in only a way he could, but also fuck you slow and romantic like you were the only one he has ever loved but nothing prepared you for the tenderness he displayed tonight.
sweet and honest words of your beauty, your strength, your love, your kindness, whispered against your skin lit your cold heart on fire and when his long fingers spread your wet folds and sank into your tight cunt, inch by inch, your whole body matched the heat of your chest. every curl of his fingers inside your velvety walls has you forgetting more and more about the burdens that weighed so heavily on you before and soon, when his aching cock fills you the brim, the whole world is nothing but soft white, crystalline blue, the love you hold for each other and the smell of strawberry cake.
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spacesquidlings · 7 months
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Baby Fever
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Description: What started off as an innocent enough joke turns into much, much more, as Gavin shows just how much he wants a baby
Pairings: Gavin Bai x MC/OC (Rowan)
Warnings: Breeding kink, multiple mentions of pregnancy, edging, unprotected sex/creampie, multiple orgasms, vaginal sex, praise kink, light dom/sub dynamics, light BDSM. This fic is for individuals 18+ ONLY.
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The evening started innocently enough. Rowan had asked Gavin if he wanted to cook dinner with her, and although they had both tried their hardest, the food had still come out looking less than appetizing.
The meat had stuck to the pan, burning while they’d struggled to peel more vegetables and potatoes than either of them thought was possible. The premade salad they’d bought was already wilted when they opened the package, and neither of them were particularly willing to go back to the store to get another one.
The potatoes turned out well enough, but the vegetables were overcooked, taking on the burnt, smokey taste of the charred meat still stuck to the pan.
Even once the spices had been added and they’d gone through the steps of making a nice sauce to drown everything in, still the food tasted strange. Not exactly wrong, but not exactly right either. It tasted a little like charcoal, likely from the burnt meat, with a strange, almost grainy consistency.
Gavin sighed, long and loud as he moved the pots and pans into the sink, frowning as he turned on the faucet. “I’m starting to question the point of trying out all these new recipes.”
Rowan paused from where she was scraping the unsavoury remains of their food into the trash. “What do you mean?”
“Well can’t we just order takeout if we want something a bit fancier or complicated?”
Rowan frowned down at the trash before closing it. “I mean I wouldn’t say any of this was particularly complicated. We just need to practice more.”
Gavin heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “We could still order takeout for some things.”
Rowan pouted, fatigue from their failed meal weighing her down. She walked over to where Gavin stood at the sink, glaring down at the pots as steam rose from the hot water.
She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his back. “Well you know how we’ve talked about having a baby, right?”
Gavin stilled, his heartbeat stumbling in his chest as he tried to keep control of his breathing. He nodded, forcing out a quiet “yes.”
“Okay, well imagine I’m pregnant.”
Gavin bit down on his tongue, doing his best to focus on the hot water filling the sink, the scrape of the sponge against the pan, the charred remains of food swimming in the bubbling water.
He definitely wasn’t imagining Rowan pregnant, definitely wasn’t picturing her belly swollen and round with their child. He definitely wasn’t imagining how he would feel, knowing that it was his baby inside of her. That it would be because of him that she would be pregnant.
“Okay,” he gritted out, scrubbing the pan with extra force as he became a little too aware of her arms around his waist, of her hands resting on his abdomen, of how tight his pants were becoming around his cock.
“And that it’s like after midnight or something, and I’m craving something ridiculous, but all the takeout places are closed,” she continued, poking her head out beneath his arm, trying to peek up at him from beneath her lashes.
“But I want that food so bad I’m in tears because being pregnant means I’d be incredibly emotional.”
Gavin nodded, staring straight ahead, his movements jerky and robotic as he set the pan into the drying rack and dumped a plate into the sudsy water.
Because it was becoming harder to stop himself from imagining his Rowan pregnant. It was becoming far too difficult to stop himself from imagining how she would become pregnant. How he would hold her down while her legs shook around his waist. How the inside of her thighs would be smeared with his release, how it would drip from inside of her, proof that he filled her entirely.
“And you wouldn’t want me wandering around trying to cook if I was pregnant and upset, would you?” She asked, a note of teasing in her voice that made his cock twitch.
He was imagining her cheeks flushed, her eyes half-lidded as she panted, murmuring his name like it was a prayer, like it was the only thing that mattered to her. Like he was her whole entire world.
And then once she was dripping with his release her belly would swell with his child. And what was better proof that she was his, that Rowan was his wife? That she was his, that he was her entire world, that she had allowed him inside of her, had allowed him to make her pregnant.
“No,” he muttered, scrubbing furiously at a pot with congealed butter in the bottom.
“So then you’d have to cook for me, right?” She continued, pinching his side. “So I wouldn’t be sad!”
He nodded, biting down so hard on his tongue he could taste blood now.
“And you don’t want me to be sad, do you?”
He shook his head, dunking his arms nearly elbow deep into the water, hoping it would somehow snap him out of his thoughts, would somehow stop him from getting any harder.
It did not work in the slightest.
Rowan pressed a kiss to the back of his neck before she pulled away, and it took all of Gavin’s self control not to turn around and throw her over his shoulder right there.
But he didn’t want to smash the dishes he was holding, and he knew that if he loosened his grip on his self control he would surely shatter the plates. So instead he focused his attention on washing each pot and pan and utensil, trying and failing to keep his mind from wandering.
It was truly a monumental task trying to restrain himself, especially as Rowan continued chattering about what if she was pregnant, would he cook for her? Would he comfort her even when her emotions were out of control?
What if?
What if they tried right now?
What if he made her pregnant right now?
Gavin sucked in a shallow breath, wiping his hands on the dish towel with mechanical precision.
“Babey? Is everything alright?”
Gavin spun around, his hands cupping Rowan’s face, barely keeping himself in check now. “I cannot stop thinking about how much I want to make you pregnant.” His hands shook and he drew in a quivering breath. “Right now.”
Rowan’s eyes widened, colour staining her cheeks as his words sunk in. “Are you serious?”
Her voice was shaking too, her hands coming to rest on his wrists.
He drew in another breath, not to ignore how tight his pants felt anymore. His mind was straying again, imagining her legs spread for him, his fingers sinking inside of her while she whimpered and moaned as he coaxed her towards her release. Or maybe he would use his tongue, and scrape his teeth along all the most sensitive parts of her as she squirmed. And then on the heels of her orgasm he would take his cock and he would-
“Gavin?”
Her voice drew him from the reverie, and too late did he realize how warm his face had gotten, how hard he was grasping her face.
“I am serious,” he said, dropping his hands to her waist, holding her close. And yet it was nowhere near close enough. Not until he’d done away with their clothes and he was buried deep inside of her. Not until he was breathing in the smell of sweat on her skin and felt the race of her pulse beneath his lips.
Her chest heaved, her pupils dilating. He could feel how her hands trembled against his wrists, how her nails dug into his skin. And when she spoke again, her voice squeaked. “Right now?”
He didn’t waste another moment, scooping her into his arms before she could gasp.
“Right now.”
Her face was red as the sky at sunset, her eyes glossy as she caught his gaze before flicking them away, her blush creeping down her throat.
The bedroom was upstairs, and Gavin took the stairs two at a time, feeling himself getting harder and harder at her ragged breaths against the crook of his neck. Her hair tickled his ear, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her heart beating so furiously he could feel it against his chest.
He pressed desperate kisses to her face and neck where he could reach, although it was hard when she’d buried her face against his throat, whimpering each time his lips and his teeth found her skin.
He paused in the doorway of their room, struggling to peel her away from him. Was it possible she was hiding from him because she didn’t want to do anything tonight? Maybe he’d made her nervous, or maybe she was feeling unwell.
The worries were like ice water sluicing over him, extinguishing the fire that had set him aflame.
“Rowan?” He murmured her name softly, afraid he’d upset her. “My princess, are you okay? Do you not want to…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Now that some of his earlier desire was gone he felt nervous, awkward. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, like he would stumble over whatever words he said.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders more, and he hissed at the sharp pain. Her brow wrinkled and she pulled her hands back, clutching them to her chest. “No, it’s not that.”
He pressed his brow against hers, their noses bumping together. Her voice was so small, he’d barely heard it. “What is it then?”
“I… I um…” She kept trailing off, her eyes flitting away, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.
A smile was growing on his lips, heat creeping back over his skin where it had once been rinsed away only a few moments earlier. She couldn’t seem to find her words, couldn’t seem to focus on him at all. Her cheeks were so red, and her eyes were like bright stars against the flush of her face. Now that her hands were no longer desperately grasping at him he could feel them shaking, as though she were nervous. Or excited, perhaps.
He hoped it was because she was excited.
Her bottom lip quivered, and he had the overpowering urge to press his mouth to hers, to slowly draw in that bottom lip between his teeth until she whimpered, until he felt her melting against him. And then he would lay her down on the bed and peel each piece of clothing from her body and press his lips to her flushed skin until she was panting and desperate and needy for his touch.
Gavin struggled to force his mind to calm, to breathe slow and deep, lungs expanding as they filled with air. He needed to wait until she found her words; he wouldn’t do anything further until she told him it was okay.
“I guess you just caught me a little off-guard,” she managed, still not looking at him, the flutter of her lashes tickling his cheeks.
“In a bad way?�� He held her closer, not daring to let her go just yet, not wanting any space between them.
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and Gavin bit down on his own tongue to keep from focusing on it. “No, not in a bad way.”
“Then what is it?”
She shrugged, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I guess I hadn’t thought anything I’d said was much of a turn on.”
He chuckled, although a prickling heat rose on the tips of his ears and down the back of his neck. He looked away, unsure now what to say to explain himself.
How exactly did he explain how he’d become aroused thinking about her rounded belly, how he would fill her again and again, over and over until even the inside of her soft thighs were stained from his release. How he’d hold her legs to her chest for a while, and then he’d sink inside her again for good measure, until there was no question that their baby had taken root in her womb.
“Gavin?”
He was startled from the spiral of his thoughts by the sound of Rowan’s voice, of her cool palm cupping his flushed cheek.
He coughed, pressing his mouth into a thin line as he slowly locked his gaze with hers once more.
And his knees nearly buckled when he did, catching the light dancing in her eyes, the shy smile that had been on her lips before blossoming like a flower in the spring.
“What were you thinking of?” Her tone was teasing as she stroked his cheek. Her touch was light, little more than the brush of a feather. It was so light he almost didn’t notice the way her hands still shook, the way her voice trembled.
Almost.
He breathed deeply, doing his best to hold himself together. “I was thinking of you.”
“Of me?” A breathy laugh escaped her lips, and it hurt how much he ached to press her into the bed and coaxing every little sweet, delicious noise from her lips that he could.
He hummed, sliding his mouth to her ear, his words little more than a breath as he spoke. “I was thinking of you lying on the bed, spread open just for me. Of all the pretty sounds I want you to make while I stuff you full of my cum.”
She squeaked, eyes going wide. Her face was so red he could have sworn it caught flame, her bottom lip trembling again as her breathing turned ragged. She couldn’t seem to hold up her smile from before, that glimmer of mischief washing away beneath his gaze.
“Well?” He asked, feeling mischief glittering in his veins like starlight winking in the night sky.
She frowned, and he watched as the gears in her mind worked, slower than usual as her chest continued to heave. “Well, what?”
He chuckled, grazing his lips along the curve of her jaw, resting them just above where her pulse fluttered in her neck. “Well what do you think?”
“What do I think of what?!” Her voice was a squeak, and he felt as she swallowed, as she tensed in his arms.
He sighed, although it was all for show. He was smiling, too, at how adorable she was. How wonderful and silly his wife was, cradled in his arms as she stammered over her words. How pretty the colour of her blush was, how sweet the sound of her voice was.
“Of me lying you on the bed,” he said, voice soft as featherdown. This was the important part, making his voice low and silken so her toes curled, so she clutched him and promised to do everything he asked because she wanted to be good. 
“And spreading your legs wide, all for me,” he continued, bumping his nose against the little gold chain around her neck as he lowered his head, breath ghosting against her collarbone. “So I can-”
She whined before he could continue, brow drawn as he looked back up to catch her gaze. Her eyes had gone dark, full of needy, desperate desire. “You really want to try making a baby?”
Her voice wobbled, and he laughed, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. “I do. I really do.” He wanted to fill her with as many babies as he could, wanted to spend every night filling her entirely until she was pregnant.
“Okay.” She ducked her head, her hair falling over her face. “Okay, I want you to do whatever you want.”
He was taken aback for a moment by her soft words, but quickly regained his composure, chuckling again as he finally passed the threshold of their room and carried her towards the bed. He would need to tease her just a bit longer for that.
“What was that?” He asked, settling himself on the bed, Rowan still caught in his arms. “You’re going to have to look at me while you’re saying that, princess.”
He could see the pout on her lips, imagined the furrow of her brow as she scowled, hidden as it was by her bangs. He’d seen it enough times to commit it to memory, the expression always emerging when he teased her.
“I’m not going to know what you want if you won’t look at me when you tell me,” he said, grasping her chin and gently turning her face up to look at him. He couldn’t help grinning as he caught sight of her pout; he adored how pretty she looked with her bottom lip pushed out, how her brow was creased from her glower. “Let’s try again.”
She was silent for a long moment before she averted her gaze again, trying to look away. He knew part of it was from how timid she could become during foreplay when he was in control, but he also knew a little of it was from the game she played, too. Seeing how far she could push him and how much she could get away with before he retaliated.
But the need to sink inside of her was far too great, and his patience was waning.
He turned her in his arms until she was straddling his lap, her mouth falling open in a gasp at the sudden movement.
“Tell me what you want,” he tried again, lowering his voice as he trailed one hand up her inner thigh. 
She’d elected to wear a pair of leggings and a dark green dress to keep her warm from the crisp autumn wind that had screamed through the day, tearing at the remaining leaves still clinging to branches and slamming against the windows and doors. It was a pretty outfit, and he’d told her as much that morning. But he knew now it would frustrate her, all that fabric dulling the sensation of his fingers stroking up her inner thigh and over all the spots she most loved being touched.
She tried shifting her hips, but he grabbed her waist with his free hand, holding her in place as best he could. It would surely be torturous for her, wanting to feel his touch and barely feeling a phantom of it in this position.
It seemed fair. After all, he’d endured enough torture as he’d washed the dishes earlier, instead of pressing her to the kitchen table and tearing her clothes off right there.
“Well?” He hummed, enjoying the way she glared at him, shoulders shaking, lips quivering as she tried and failed to catch her breath.
She whined, hands balling in the fabric of his shirt. “I want you to do whatever you want.”
He added a little more pressure to the hand stroking her, dragging his fingers across her clit. “Do you want me to fill you until my cum is dripping out of you.” He lowered his voice, leaning forward until his lips brushed the edge of her ear. “Until there’s a baby in your womb?”
“Yes.”
He clicked his tongue, enjoying himself perhaps a little too well as he drew his hand away and she whined, crestfallen now that he was no longer touching her at all.
“You have to say the words, princess.” He pressed his lips to hers, proud of himself for how chaste it was, only frustrating her father.
Rowan took a shaky breath, seeming to brace herself before repeating his words in little more than a whisper.
He grinned; he would accept that. He didn’t have the strength to keep teasing her now, and there were plenty of ways to make her blush, to make her squirm beneath his touch.
He kissed her again, much less chaste now, finally drawing her bottom lip beneath his teeth, moaning as she gasped.
“Good girl,” he murmured against her lips.
Then he was moving, turning and flipping her onto her back in half a breath, Rowan’s eyes wide as saucers as she found herself on her back.
His hands were on the hem of her dress, unceremoniously dragging it over her torso. But he froze when a tearing sound cut through the room, a rip the size of his head appearing on the bodice of her dress.
A line formed between Rowan’s brows, and she shot him an incredulous look as he stared at the hole. “Did you just-”
He grasped the fabric on either side of the rip, tearing it asunder, the scraps of fabric falling to the side as Rowan continued to gape, whatever she’d been about to say lost.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” was his only reply, and then he was taking the hem of her leggings and underwear and yanking them from her body in one fell swoop.
Blessedly, neither tore, and he tossed them to the side.
Rowan was still staring up at him, the flush on her cheeks spreading across her body, staining every soft curve in the pink of newly bloomed peonies.
He stroked her sides, the ache in his core unbearable already. She was so soft, so warm. He knew every inch of this beautiful body, every curve and roll, every stray freckle. He knew the places she liked to be touched best, the places perfect for placing his hands, the places to rest his head when they were finally through so he could breathe in the sweet smell of her. His wife, his Rowan.
He slid his hands over her hips, around the curve of her rear, squeezing with both hands until she bucked her hips, gasping at the touch.
“Gavin,” she murmured, chest heaving as he continued to touch her, reverently running his hands over her curves. He just needed a moment to admire her, before he did anything further.
“Just a minute, pumpkin,” he sighed, lowering his head to brush kisses to her belly. “I just need to look at you for a minute longer.”
“Gavin.” She sounded more insistent this time, and he raised his head in time to see her grinning, one hand sliding over her own breast.
He watched, mesmerized, as she squeezed it once, as she began slowly circling her thumb around her hardened nipple. Her eyes never left his face, and although she had turned a bright scarlet, she didn’t seem to hesitate.
Movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he noticed in time to see her other hand slipping between her legs, her smile widening.
The attempt snapped him from his stupor, and he grabbed her wrist, pressing it against the bed above her head as he leaned over her, so close her breath ghosted against his lips.
“You do not touch yourself.” He lowered his voice, using the ‘commander’ tone he usually only reserved for very particular situations. Like his wife, trying to touch herself.
That little smile was still on her lips and she bucked her hips again, pressing them against his erection. He could tell she was holding onto her composure by a fraying thread, even as she continued stroking her own breast. “Says who?”
He lowered his mouth to hers, leaving barely a breath between them. “Says me.”
“Or what, commander?”
He grinned now too. “I’ll have to arrest you. And charge you for ignoring my orders.”
“I didn’t know that was a law.”
He pulled away, taking her other hand and pressing it into the bed above her head, holding both wrists in one hand as he pried the tattered remains of her dress out from under her. “It’s a very important law, and you’ve committed a very serious crime.”
She looked about ready to say something particularly petulant, but as he fixed his glare on her he watched as the words died on her lips, her mouth quickly snapping shut.
“The only one who gets to touch you is me,” he said, voice growing rough as he bound her wrists together with the fabric of her torn dress and secured them to the headboard.
He was the only one who could touch her, who could stroke her most sensitive places and coax whimpers from her lips. Only he could make her writhe and whine, could bring her to her release over and over. She was his wife, and he would be the only one who touched her.
“But I thought it would…” Her words died as he arched a brow, eyes narrowed as she tried and failed to finish her sentence.
“The only thing I want from you is to hear you moaning my name,” he said, keeping his tone as commanding as he could. But he would be lying if he didn’t admit that he was slipping. His cock seemed to be pulsing with how needy he was, how desperately he needed to be inside of her.
But she still had that damned smile on her face, and he figured he needed to do something about that. Something that would remind her that she was his, and that she had just agreed to let him do whatever he wanted.
“Now,” he said, shifting until he knelt between her legs, squeezing the soft flesh of her thighs before spreading them wide, every part of her on display for him. “Before we can continue, are you ready to receive your sentence?”
His cock twitched again, but it would have to wait. First there was something else he needed to do first. And once she was begging for his touch, he would fill her until her belly was swollen from his release.
She bit down on her lip, that satisfied little smile beginning to melt away. She wanted him to touch her, he could tell. But she wouldn’t get what she wanted.
Yet.
“And you should know,” he added, dropping his voice an octave. “The only response I’m accepting is ‘yes, sir.’”
She swallowed, nodding as best she could. “Yes, sir.”
He smiled, dragging his forefinger across her folds, brushing it against her clit. “Good girl.”
***
There might have been stars shining in the ceiling for all Rowan had any sense of the world around her anymore.
Part of her wondered whether it had been worth teasing Gavin. She’d known it was a risk, but she’d thought it would turn him on at the time. Make him do all those things he’d promised he would. Filling her with his cock again and again, folding her legs over her as he pushed into her, spilling inside of her over and over.
She really should have remembered how much Gavin liked being the one in control. How much he liked being her own private commander.
It was not something she would be forgetting anytime soon.
Gavin had started so gently she’d wanted to cry from how painful her need had already become. All she’d been able to imagine as he’d carried her up the stairs was the face he made when he pushed inside her, was his hands grasping at hers, was the sounds he made whenever he reached his release.
And yet he’d barely touched her, his fingers like phantoms stroking her. And all the while he’d murmured about how she had to be good, how he would do everything he’d promised as long as she listened and served out her ‘punishment.’
She’d tried asking him to forgive her, but he’d only shushed her, telling her the only thing she was allowed to say anymore was his name.
Which was going to be the only thing she ever remembered again, with his current ministrations making her brain leak from her ears.
He’d been edging her for what felt like hours now, bringing her so close to the brink only to pull away, stroking her body gently until she began to relax, until her breath grew even once more. And then he did it all over again.
He used his hands, his tongue, his teeth, teasing her as he stroked her most sensitive places, as he squeezed her breasts and rolled her nipples with his tongue. As he pressed bruising kisses to her throat and sides, as he left bite-marks everywhere his lips touched.
It would have felt like heaven if he hadn’t been teasing her, if he hadn’t been using his touch as a punishment. She wanted him to do more, she wanted his tongue and his fingers and his cock inside of her. She wanted his body pressed against hers, the frantic beat of his heart pulsing against her breast in time with her own.
But when she tried to ask him to do more, to nearly beg him to do more, he only reminded her that she’d said he could do whatever he wanted, and this was what he wanted to do. And then he gave her one long, desperate kiss that made her utterly breathless before returning to his torture.
She writhed, tugged against her bindings, although it felt like it was all in vain. Gavin was far too good, and she was well and truly stuck right where she was. She couldn’t move her hands from where he’d bound them, and he was able to hold her in place with just one hand on her hips while the other stroked and teased her mercilessly.
She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as her core tightened. She felt her body clenching over nothing, aching for something, anything. Even just one finger inside of her.
And just like clockwork the hand between her thighs vanished, her eyes opening at the wet pop of his fingers in his mouth as he sucked them clean.
She tugged uselessly against her bindings. “Gavin, please…”
She closed her eyes again as he grazed his palms along her sides, whimpering as he soothed her, the ache between her legs growing dull. It never fully disappeared though, hadn’t fully gone away for ages now.
Gavin hummed, and it sounded like he was grinning. “That sounds so pretty.”
She scrunched her nose up, rolling her hips, wishing she could have just a little more of his touch.
“You’re so pretty, my princess.” His tone sounded almost reverent, and it would have made her melt had he not been torturing her with his beautiful, cursed, skilled fingers.
He dragged his hands up, slid a featherlight touch over the swell of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
Although he was barely ghosting the pads of his fingers over her skin, her legs still trembled. She clenched at the sound of his voice, at the little sigh at the end, like he couldn’t stop staring, like she was something utterly beautiful and extraordinary.
Her bones were kindling for the flames unfurling from her bloodstream. She felt as it licked at her skin, as it singed the ends of her nerves. She feared that if she opened her eyes she would see fire rising around them, smoke choking out the last of the light in the hazy lighting of their room.
Her core grew tighter as he murmured sweet praises, telling her how pretty she sounded, how sweet she tasted on his tongue, how soft and perfect her thighs were when he sucked at her clit. It felt like threads of heat coiling tighter and tighter, pulsing a desperate beat that no symphony could ever keep time with.
Gavin’s teeth were suddenly on her throat, and her eyes were flying open, a gasp slipping from her lips from the shock. Heat quickly bloomed where he bit her, his teeth sinking into her flesh just enough to summon pain, but not enough to draw blood. He chuckled, his tongue swiping over the spot, the sound reverberating through her, reaching into the hollows of her bones.
He repeated this torture, again and again, sinking his teeth into her throat over and over. She whimpered, the sound twining with his muffled laughter, turning into a hedonistic melody that only they could create.
She closed her eyes again, straining her hands, wishing she could bury them in his hair, dig her nails into his shoulders and rake them down his back.
Oh how she wanted to touch him, how she wanted to be touched so much more than this. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and hold him against her while he came. She wanted to cradle his head against the crook of her neck as he shuddered in the throes of his passion.
She was drawn from such desires as she felt one of his hands slide down, dragging one finger through her oversensitive folds. She writhed, utterly helplessly as he began his ministrations once more, the attentions of his lips and teeth and tongue on her neck while his hand toyed with the more delicate parts of her.
It didn’t take very long at all until she was panting, moaning his name helplessly, wishing he would just have his way already. She wanted him so terribly, couldn’t he see that?
Gavin leaned back as he drew his hand away, holding her gaze as he licked his fingers clean. It sent desire arcing through her, like a lightning strike. She felt something inside of her splintering, the tension in her core starting to fray.
He hummed, his eyes a deep gold as he took in the mess she had become. A smile flitted across his lips, dangerous and sensual. It reminded her of a predator, his teeth glinting as they caught the wan light.
“You’ve been so good,” he murmured, stroking her cheek. “I think you’ve served out your sentence.”
Hope flared, bright and sweet and beautiful, rays of light seeping out from the spaces between her ribs.
He trailed his hands down, that devilish smile growing wider. “Do you promise to be a good girl?”
She struggled to draw breath, her lungs spasming as she gasped. “I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I promise. I-” 
He arched a brow, his eyes alight with mischief. Oh she wanted to kiss him so badly. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and lose sight of the boundaries of her body against him.
“Gavin please. Please.” She was sure it sounded a little pathetic, but she was well past caring by now.
He chuckled as he ran his thumb over the curve of her hip, his touch languid. “Please, what?”
She ground her teeth, fighting against the urge to whimper and whine. He was still teasing her. Still edging her into eternity, making her desperate for even the slightest touch.
Although, whether it was unfortunate or not, she had abandoned her pride over an hour ago, when she’d realized he was going to drag this out for as long as he pleased. “Please touch me, sir. Please p-put your…”
Maybe she hadn’t entirely done away with her pride. Her stomach twisted, the pulse of desire in her core so overwhelming she could barely think. If only she could say the words.
His smile grew wider, teeth catching the light. His incisors looked sharper than they had before, something predatory in his eyes. He traced his hands down the outside of her thighs, as if contemplating her words. “Touch you where, my princess?”
She bit her bottom lip, although it did little to help as she tried and failed to focus her mind enough to give form to her words.
Gavin tipped his head to the side, clearly enjoying himself far too much. She could see it in the gold of his eyes, in how dilated his pupils were. The dusting of pink on his ears had spread, deepening to a fiery crimson that streaked down his throat and under the collar of his shirt.
She lifted her hips, and his breath caught as he looked down. His gaze was hot, and she could have sworn she felt a cool caress against the delicate skin at the apex of her thighs.
Wind tangled in her messy hair, and distantly she realized that it was his evol; his control slipping on his power as he stared down at her with something like hunger.
“Here,” she managed, wiggling her hips as best she could. “I want you to touch me here.”
Again she felt that touch of a breeze, like phantom hands stroking her.
He hummed, sketching his index finger over her belly. “I can do that.”
“With your hands.”
He arched a brow, leaning over her until their noses touched, until his breath tangled with hers. “Awfully demanding, aren’t you?”
“Well…” She trailed off, her tongue heavy in her mouth. He made it so hard to speak when he was looking at her this way. The way his gaze was so steady, his eyes partially closed, his lips curled up in a smirk. She could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed, could feel the softness of his lips as his grin grew wide once more.
“Well?”
She pressed her lips into a line, clearing her throat, although the act did little to dispel the tightness in her throat.
“Well you have said I’m a princess,” she said, her voice only crackling a little like the kindling fed to a growing flame. “And aren’t princesses demanding?”
A whoosh of breath from his lips that she was certain was meant to be a laugh, or perhaps a sigh. Or perhaps both. Her mind was so muddled now all she could focus on was his breath, his lips, the heat of his skin washing over her like ocean waves against the shore.
“That’s true,” he said, a true laugh chasing after his words. “And who am I to deny a princess her wants?”
“Exactly.” Her response was breathless, and her stomach twisted, her core clenching as he fixed his eyes on hers, his expression unreadable.
She held her breath, waiting for his reply. And when it came, her heart fluttered like it was made of gossamer and sunlight and butterfly wings.
“Any more requests?” His eyes were alight with mischief, so bright they were like twin stars.
“Only all the things you promised earlier,” she said, tilting her chin back as if she really were a princess. As if he hadn’t tied her to the bed with scraps of her torn shirt.
Something seemed to soften in his expression, although she couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was. Perhaps it was the light of his eyes, or the sharpness of his smile. Perhaps it was the way he held himself, the way each move seemed powerful and commanding.
“As you wish,” he murmured, his voice a warm rumble that reached into her core, so tight now it hurt with every needy pulse that rocked through her. “It’s my duty to make my princess happy.”
He brushed his lips to hers, painful in its restraint. She lifted her head, chasing after him, but he pressed on her shoulders until she lay back, promising he would do everything she wished so long as she was patient.
His hands stroked her sides, traced the curves of her breasts. He trailed his lips in their wake, his kisses softer, reverent. It was like he had become a supplicant, and she a divine goddess he gave his entire being to in worship.
It would have given her whiplash from his earlier behaviour, but even when he’d been torturing her he’d breathed his words with such gentle softness, had told her how pretty she was, how beautiful she sounded, how he adored her so. 
And this gentler touch slowed the desperate beat of her heart, eased the ache that had reached into her bones. She felt her own body softening, relaxing beneath him as he continued to trail tender, adoring kisses over her body.
She sighed as he reached the apex of her thighs, his breath ghosting over her the delicate bundle of nerves. She still felt far too sensitive there, and even just the feel of his breath sent a shudder through her body.
“Here?” He murmured, catching her gaze as he looked back at her.
She nodded, swallowing as she watched his smile grow wide once more. “There.”
“As you wish.”
His words reverberated through her as he lowered his mouth, his tongue swirling around her clit before he drew it between his lips. She gasped, tensing against her bindings, legs already shaking as he began his gentle ministrations.
Wet sounds filled the air, twining with his quiet groans as though she were a full course meal and he was a man starved. Rowan moaned, so overstimulated even the smallest of touches sent lightning arcing through her body. She was made of fire and air, and the thin threads that had been holding her together were rapidly fraying beneath the force of the heat conjured by each swipe of his tongue.
It didn’t take long to bring her to the edge, for her body to grow so taut she could hardly breathe, hardly move. Her hips rolled, grinding against him as he drew her folds between his teeth, his hands squeezing her ass.
She whimpered, forcing her eyes open to find him staring at her, his eyes shining stars in the darkness.
She tried to say his name, although nothing but a moan fell from her lips. She couldn’t see his mouth, but she could feel his smile against her, caught the satisfied delight in his eyes.
“Cum for me, my love.”
Her mind had crumpled beneath the magic of his touch, and she was so utterly enthralled by him now that she would have needed more than a moment to register his quiet words. But she didn’t have even a moment before he resumed his work, tongue and lips and teeth pushing her from the edge.
It was like freefall, the way her stomach somersaulted, the way the air rushed from her lungs. Her body trembled, its movements uncontrollable. All she could do was cry out, Gavin’s name on her lips over and over as he sucked and licked and bit as she rode through the waves of her orgasm.
Her body arched up, her toes curling as she squeezed her eyes closed, utterly breathless. Shudders wracked her body, the heat in her core raging through her, decimating every bone and nerve and cell until there was nothing left but flame and the feel of Gavin still between her legs.
He didn’t stop until she finally came down from her high, her body beginning to still, her senses beginning to return.
She didn’t have the strength to open her eyes, to do anything but whimper helplessly as he murmured sweet nothings, pressing kisses to the insides of her thighs.
“You were perfect,” he breathed. She felt the bed shift as he moved, the sound of his feet hitting the floor muffled from the rush of blood in her ears. “So, completely perfect.”
She tried to crack a smile, tried to tell him that he was pretty perfect himself, but all she managed was a mumbled “mmmm.”
He snorted, followed by the rustle of fabric. “Don’t fall asleep yet, love. We’re not done yet.”
“Can I have just… Five more minutes…” She trailed off, heaving a deep sigh. She really did feel tired, all her energy spent from his torture.
He tsked. “Don’t you remember what you said?”
“Hm?”
“That I could do anything I wanted.”
She cracked her eyes open at that, a new rush of heat overflowing from her chest. He’d finally removed his shirt, his torso bared for her. She traced the curves of his body with her eyes, the swell of his biceps as he unbuckled his belt, the planes of the defined muscles of his abdomen, the softness of his chest.
She licked her lips, imagining how it would feel when he finally pressed his body against hers, when she would finally be tangled in his embrace. “And what are you wanting to do?”
He snorted, tugging off his pants. “Have you forgotten?”
She hadn’t, but after all his teasing she figured she was allowed to tease him right back. And she wanted to hear him say it again, wanted to hear the words from his lips that would make her breathless with excitement and make his face burn like a sunset sky.
His smile was devilish as he took a step towards her, cupping her cheek with one hand. “I’m going to make love to you until my cum is dripping out of you.”
Her toes curled as he leaned down, his voice lowering as he murmured his next words against her lips. “I’m going to fill you again and again until my baby is inside of you.”
She bit back a giggle, even as her body clenched at his words. His tone was warm and sensual, but it was belied by the colour in his cheeks, by the fiery colour staining his ears. He meant every word he said, but just the thought of it was slowly turning him into a mess, too. Was perhaps making him feel a bit shy, too.
Gavin was brave and strong and confident, but he was shy too. Shy when it came to some of his deepest desires, to giving them form.
It made her want to gather him up in her arms, to press kisses to his cheeks until he laughed, until he turned breathless. And then she wanted to make love to him until he was a mess in her arms, until he was satisfied and she was so full of him she wouldn’t be able to stand.
She smiled, butterfly wings taking flight in the cage of her ribs. “Then you’d better get started, officer.”
He arched a brow, looking amused. “Oh?”
“Yes, sir,” she recovered quickly. “There’s nothing I want more, sir.”
He snorted, eyes flicking to her lips. “That’s good to hear. Then I hope you’re prepared for a long night.”
She lifted her chin up further, space for little more than a breath between their lips. “It’s all I want.”
She could practically feel his smile against her lips, but he did not close the distance, and she couldn’t reach any further with her hands still bound to the headboard.
“Really?” There was a note of incredulity in his voice, as if he was amazed that she really would want him.
But Rowan couldn’t think of anything she could possibly want more. She wanted him, she wanted him close, she wanted to hold him tight and listen to his voice as it ricocheted through the room before being drowned out by his winds as his control ebbed away with every thrust of his hips. She wanted to hear him tell her how good she was, how pretty she was, how much he loved her, how much he needed her. She wanted to hear him tell her how good she felt, wanted to hear his contented sounds as he came down from his release before he started all over again.
And then of course there was something else that she wanted. As terribly as she wanted him in this moment, as terribly as she always wanted him.
She really did want him to try. She really wanted both of them to try. For a baby that was a little bit of her, and a little bit of him. A baby with golden eyes and round, red cheeks, and squealing laughter like the ring of silver bells in the wind.
Her voice was even this time, no cracks like there usually were while she was still reeling from her release. “Really.”
He closed that final distance then, his lips brushing against hers. He was soft at first, the kiss chaste and gentle as a morning breeze. And then his lips were parting, and he was dragging her bottom lip between his teeth, and he was slipping his tongue between her lips, groaning as the kiss deepened.
And suddenly it was not gentle and chaste any longer, the kiss all passion and hunger and need. Gavin had been standing next to the bed only a moment ago, but the bed shifted and Rowan felt as his body covered hers. She felt the hard planes of his stomach as he slid against her, the softness of his chest pressing against her breasts.
She hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes, but his touch had stolen all her senses, had wiped her mind of everything but the feel of his body against hers, of her need for him closer.
She was overwhelmed, the rough touch of his calloused palms stroking her sides, gentle as they caressed the swell of her breasts, as they traced the curve of her hips. The smell of pine and cool air and the sandalwood scent in his soap filled her nose, washed over her like she was little more than a flower lost beneath the heavy clouds of a storm. Her skin was burning, and yet the air itself was cool, winds tangling in her hair, churning through the room and making the sheets beneath them flutter.
She gasped as he broke the kiss, lips moving to the curve of her jaw, trailing down her neck. She still felt the bite of his teeth, but it was less punishing this time. Still possessive, but reverent too. Like he was claiming she was his, like he was marking her throat with proof that she was his and only his.
It wasn’t enough, though. She wanted him closer, wanted to touch him more.
Rowan lifted her hips, grinding them against Gavin’s until he gasped. She could feel his bulge through his boxers, her mouth salivating at the thought of it pushing inside of her, stretching her wide just for him.
“Be patient.” He groaned against her skin, his breath hitching as she rolled her hips up again, spreading her legs a little wider.
“But I…” She trailed off, her thoughts melting away as he took her breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her nipple. A shiver ran down her spine, heat spreading from her core like an expanding star in the darkness of the universe. Rays of heat reaching out, enveloping her nerves until her skin warmed and tingled, heating her blood until it began to boil.
He came away with a wet pop of his mouth, a satisfied grin dancing on his lips before turning his attentions to her other breast.
Her back arched, and for a moment she forgot what she had been saying. She just wanted to be touched, wanted to touch him, wanted-
Gavin began working his way lower, hands on either side of her hips, his mouth tracing kisses around her navel. Cool wind still rushed around her, brushing against her burning skin, caressing the delicate flesh between her legs.
Slowly her thoughts returned to her; she didn’t want just the wind touching her. She wanted Gavin, she wanted his heated hands on her, she wanted his skin against hers, she wanted him inside of her. She wanted him deep inside of her, filling her until he was content.
“I want to touch you,” she managed, her words little more than a whimper as he fixed his gaze back on her. The gold of his eyes had deepened, no longer the bright colour of stars, but something darker, headier.
She was melting beneath that gaze, melting beneath that heat and intensity as he drew himself up, peering down at her like a predator in the dark. The winds grew more forceful, seeming to churn around them like the beginnings of a hurricane.
It was like she was caught in a trance, her thoughts grinding to a halt as she stared up at him. She wasn’t even sure if she was breathing anymore. But it was impossible to look away. It was impossible to tear her eyes from his. 
There was something about the almost-dark that blanketed the room, only the light of the hallway spilling in from the half-shut door and the tiny cactus shaped night-light in the corner offering any illumination. Something about the weak light that managed to shine through, limning him in a soft glow. Like he was something inhuman, something made of magic.
He lifted his brows, the corners up his lips tugging up in a half-smile. She could make out the flush on his skin, how it had stained every part of bare skin that she could lay her eyes on. She could make out the way his chest rose and fell, how his muscles tensed and flexed as he shifted.
And then the tension in her arms disappeared, and the knotted fabric around her wrists was being tugged away.
“Your wish is my command, princess.” His voice was low and heady, intoxicating as too much wine, but there was a note of teasing in his voice, a flare of mischief.
Rowan was breathing harder now, the taste of freedom on her tongue.
She wasn’t about to lie and say there wasn’t something very arousing about him holding her down and tying her up so he could have his way with her. But she wanted to touch him now too, wanted to wrap herself around him.
She just wanted him, so desperately it hurt. She could feel the ache deep in her bones, like it was scraping away the marrow and leaving only an empty agony remaining.
Rowan drew her hands to her chest, gently rotated her wrists and listened to the quiet crack and pop of the joints, slowly flexed her fingers and squeezed them into fists once more.
“May I?” Gavin laid a hand over hers, fingers tangling together. He drew their twined hands up, brushing his lips against her wrist.
“Did I hurt you?” He murmured his words against her skin, peeling away only to check the marks on her wrists before pressing kisses to the tips of her fingers and the back of her hands again.
“Not at all.”
He huffed a small laugh, his breath tickling her palm. “You’re very brave, my princess.”
“Well you were awfully brave to untie me.”
His eyes squeezed shut as he laughed, the sound reverberating through her where his mouth pressed against her palm.
“And why is that?”
Rowan smiled, gently prying her hand free from him. She hesitated, Gavin’s eyes going wide and sad, his lips pulling into a pout as she drew away from him.
But she cupped his face with both hands anyways, the soft edges of his hair tickling her fingertips. She lifted her head, holding his gaze as she closed the distance between them. “Because now I get to touch you, too.”
He laughed against her lips as she kissed him, one hand pressed against her back, holding her up as she nipped at his bottom lip, as she began scattering kisses over his cheeks like rainfall.
She slid her hands into his hair, eyes closing as he caught her lips again before she could trace kisses along the line of his jaw. Gavin groaned into the kiss, his other hand sliding over her thigh, fingers digging into her skin.
Rowan tugged at his hair as she felt his teeth, and Gavin sighed her name, breaking their embrace to drag his lips and teeth and tongue down the column of her throat. Her head fell back, baring her neck for him, giving him better access as he marked her with proof of his love.
She rolled her hips, grinding them against his bulge, murmuring his name like a prayer. Breathing “Gavin. Gavin. Gavin.”
And when he asked her “what do you want, princess? Tell me what you want.” She whimpered his name again, said that she wanted him. She wanted him, just him.
There was laughter in the room, although Rowan was beginning to lose sight of herself, of where her body was ending and Gavin was beginning. Their heartbeats pulsed in tandem, and her senses were overwhelmed with his smell and his breaths and his burning hands.
The laughter might have been his, although she felt it deep in her bones. And then his hands were drawing away and she was whining, agony flooding her veins at the loss of his touch, his warmth.
“Just give me a minute, princess,” he said, even as he let her wrap her arms around his neck and draw him closer once more. “I just need a minute, and I’ll give you everything you want.”
She pouted, wiggling her hips. “I don’t want to wait.”
He clicked his tongue, and she felt as he shifted, arms and legs moving as he removed his boxers, the final barrier keeping them apart.
“Not even for a minute?”
She shook her head, tension coiling in her core as she felt him settle between her legs. “Not for one minute.”
Gavin snorted, his brows arching high. “You want me that badly?”
She nodded her head furiously, chest rising and falling as she fought to keep her breathing even. But she could feel him against her now, felt his cock sliding through her folds, shocks of electricity arcing through her core.
“Then be a good girl for me and spread your legs a little wider, pumpkin.”
She did. Immediately. Spreading her legs as wide as she could, lifting her hips again to give him better access.
He squeezed her thigh again, and he sounded pleased when he spoke once more. “That’s my good girl.”
She could feel him at her entrance, her body clenching in anticipation.
“Can’t you be closer?” She didn’t much care that she was whining. Gavin liked when she whined for him, when she was needy and desperate for his touch.
“This isn’t close enough for you, princess?” There was a note of teasing in his voice as he slid one hand down the underside of her thigh, hiking it up against his waist.
She tried drawing him closer, fingers sinking into his hair. “Not even a little bit.”
More of his laughter was caught in the winds as he shifted again, his other hand sketching circles against her waist, her skin tingling from the touch. “Well I know how to fix that.”
And then Rowan was gasping, her breath caught in her throat as Gavin pushed inside of her, as her walls stretched to accommodate every inch of him. She clenched, so sensitive from his torturous touch earlier that she was nearly pushed over the edge again. Her back arched, legs shaking. She might have been moaning, but she wasn’t really sure. All she felt was heat, her body drawn so taut she was sure it would snap at any moment.
Gavin groaned, the stars of his eyes eclipsed for the barest of moments as they fell closed. The hand holding her thigh dug painfully against her skin, no doubt leaving an impression of his hand that would stay for days. And the hand at her waist gripped her tight, pushing her back against the bed even as her hips bucked.
Rowan could hardly breathe, the world spinning around her as she dug her hands into Gavin’s hair, as she scraped them down his back from the shocks of electricity that raced across what remained of her nerves. Her chest heaved, her legs trembled. Even once Gavin’s hips met hers, she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Already she was on the brink of another orgasm, and he had hardly done anything at all.
“How’s that?” He asked, and although his voice was gravelly and low, she could hear the mischief in it. “Is this close enough?”
She nodded, a frantic shake of her head as she tried to gasp out a ‘yes.’
Although it didn’t exactly work. It came out a garbled mess, barely intelligible as a response at all.
But Gavin seemed to understand just fine, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips.
“Good. Now, are you ready?”
She was ready, she was so ready. She tried to wiggle her hips in answer, Gavin choking on a gasp from the sudden movement.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She felt his smile against her lips as his hands roamed over her body, squeezing her breasts, stroking her sides until her breathing calmed. Like he was soothing her. Like he didn’t want her to find her release just yet.
He moved then, once her breathing had slowed and the rise and fall of her chest had evened out. He moved slowly at first, pulling away and sinking back in until their hips met at a languorous pace. He even sighed, as though he were enjoying a lazy afternoon.
She tried to stammer out his name, her hips moving of their own accord, but Gavin only shushed her.
“You said I could do whatever I wanted,” he reminded her, pressing her hips back against the bed. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“But you’re going too slow.” Her leg slipped from his waist, her bones near nonexistent. She was being held together by fraying thread, her body supported by unset jelly; it would take almost nothing for her to fall apart.
“Maybe I just like your pout,” he murmured, one calloused hand cupping her cheek, his thumb running over her bottom lip.
“But Gavin.”
“I like that too.” His hand tangled in her hair, tugging as he groaned, thrusting with more force than before.
She tried to ask what he meant, but he was moving again, and when he pushed back inside of her all she could do was whine, squirming helplessly in his grip.
He clicked his tongue, continuing his languid pace. He pulled back, not enough to be out of reach of Rowan’s embrace, but just enough that he could take her in, eyes roving over her body.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, right before his hips slammed against hers. She writhed, nails digging into his shoulders. Gavin’s breathing shuddered, but his pace remained steady, his eyes focusing on her lips, over her breasts, tracing down her torso.
His cock twitched, and Rowan shuddered around him, clenching again as he murmured breathy praises. That she was beautiful, that she felt so good, that she was his good girl.
Despite his painstakingly slow pace, it still did not take long for Rowan to feel her release creeping up on her. She felt it with every rock of his hips, with every ‘good girl’ and ‘I love you’ he groaned, with every twitch inside of her that sent electricity coursing through her.
Gavin held her hips against the bed, controlling the pace entirely, but her body still began to tremble beneath his grip. Her toes curled, her lungs spasming as she struggled to draw breath. She couldn’t seem to stop whimpering, arms quivering as she tried to keep them wrapped around him.
There was fire in her belly, coiling in her core, overtaking the tension that had been keeping her together.
“Gavin,” she moaned, wishing she could bury her face against his neck. “Gavin, I-”
“I know,” he said, his tone soft as a lullaby. It was only slightly undermined by a grunt as she clenched around him. “I know, princess.”
“Please come closer,” she gasped, squeezing his shoulders. “I need you.”
He groaned, closing the distance between them, every wonderful inch of him pressing against her now. “I need you, too.”
She circled her arms around his neck, holding him as tight as she could with her strength rapidly melting away. His pace didn’t quicken, as though he were slowly bringing her towards her orgasm, drawing it out slowly, making it last as long as he could.
“I love you,” he breathed. “I love you, Rowan.”
Laughter bubbled in her throat, although it came out as a garbled sound alongside another moan. “Sounds-sounds like you-you’re about to…” Her back arched, spasming as their hips connected.
The hands holding her down slid beneath her, squeezing her ass and lifting her hips, grinding them against his.
It was the last straw, her body unravelling in his hands. Her release was slower this time, the tension coiled in her core snapping, heat flooding her veins. She couldn’t control her body as it twitched, back arching from the mattress. Her mind was a cloud of smoke and liquid heat, she was unable to form even a single thought. There was only this unending freefall, the heat in her body, the rush of warmth between her legs.
And Gavin. Her desperate need for Gavin.
She gasped as he kept moving, eyes closed as she clung to him, her head falling back against the pillows, neck bared for him as he sank his teeth into her skin. Pain lanced through her, and she lost the grip she’d had on the final thread holding her together. The strength in her arms gave out, and she slumped against the messy sheets, still quivering beneath him.
He groaned, murmuring something against her skin she couldn’t quite make out. She could feel the heat between her legs growing, and lewd, wet sounds filled the room alongside Gavin’s pants.
Gavin came soon after her, his thrusts growing erratic, the hands still squeezing her rear and grinding her hips against his gripping her so tightly she would surely have the shape of his hands imprinted against her for all eternity. He groaned her name, shoulders shaking as he pressed his face against the crook of her neck.
He didn’t stop moving, his pace faster, an uneven tempo she could not keep up with as he spilled inside of her. She could feel his hot, sticky cum as it leaked onto the inside of her thighs, felt as it filled her entirely.
She buried her hands in his hair as he rode out his release, stammering out praises, heat blooming deep in her belly once more as he moaned helplessly. That he felt so good, that he had to keep going, that he could fill her as much as he wanted.
Gavin let out a shaky breath as his body finally stilled, pressing his lips to hers and stealing her air. His hands moved to her face, stroking her cheeks, running his fingers through her hair.
“What do you think?” Her voice wobbled as she spoke, her tongue heavy as she tried to remember words that weren’t just ‘Gavin’ and ‘please.’ “Do you think we made a baby?”
He huffed, kissing her again, tongue swiping between her lips.
She smiled, laughter bubbling in her chest. It made her shoulders shake, and Gavin broke the kiss just so he could stare at her in amusement as she laughed.
“What’s so funny?” He brushed her bangs back from her sweaty forehead, lips quirked up in a smile.
She shrugged, still giggling. “I’m not sure.”
He chuckled, leaning down to brush a kiss to the corner of her lips. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Well what are you going to do with me?” She reached up, tracing the line of his collarbone.
Gavin took hold of her hand, lifting it to press a kiss to the heel of her hand. “Whatever I wanted, remember?”
“I remember.” She wiggled her hips, biting her bottom lip as he drew in a sharp breath. “But what do you want to do next?”
“What I want is to make you pregnant.” Now he was the one moving, jerking his hips forward, a wet slap sounding in the room as their bodies connected. “And I think we have a very long night ahead of us.”
Rowan bit down on her lip harder to stifle her moans. He’d hardly moved, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was that sensitive. And yet she was sure he knew, her walls tightening around his cock as he rolled his hips again. And again. And again.
“Don’t hide it from me, princess,” he teased, pressing the hand he’d been holding against the bed, their fingers intertwining. “I want to hear every pretty sound you make.”
“How do you know I-” She grit her teeth, but it did little to stop the cry that still spilled from her lips as his pace increased, turned near-punishing.
Her body moved of its own accord, hips rocking up, trying to keep pace with him.
“Because I’m making you feel good, princess.” His words were low and heady, intoxicating her mind. It was getting so hard to think, to remember to even hold onto him with her free hand. “And you sound so pretty when you feel good.”
She was losing herself in the movement of their bodies, losing herself in the enchantment Gavin was casting over her. Her head fell back, her lips parting as she sighed and moaned. Somehow her other hand found itself in his grip, both her hands trapped beneath one of his while his free hand reached for her thigh.
“Closer,” he ground out. “I need you closer.”
He grabbed her thigh roughly, lifting it over his hip, pushing it further forward as he bent over her.
There was some irony in that, in Gavin demanding that she be closer when she had begged him to be close earlier. And now they both got their wish, so close now that their boundaries blurred.
Rowan was so oversensitive she didn’t last long beneath his furious pace. She was little more than a newly bloomed flower beneath the force of a tempest. She was uprooted easily, tossed into the air, entirely at the whims of the storm that had stolen her away.
She was in freefall, stomach lurching, heart replaced by gossamer wings flitting against the force of the gale she was being swept up in. Gavin brought her to her release swiftly, twice, before he found his again.
He only paused for a moment, gasping for breath between words as he checked to make sure she felt alright, to make sure he hadn’t hurt her, that she really could keep going.
And then he began anew, their bodies tangling together, Rowan melting beneath him. She surrendered herself fully to his storm, letting him take her wherever he wished. Filling her again and again until she lost her mind entirely, until there was no thought in her mind but Gavin, Gavin’s touch, and the hope that this would truly work and they would have their first baby.
***
The evening melted away beneath Gavin’s fingertips, darkening to the silver-stained night. With the bedroom door half-closed and the curtains drawn, it was hard to tell any time had passed at all.
But the stars knew, as did the moon, as their light slowly bloomed in the night sky.
For his part, Gavin was too focused on his wife, on the glossiness of her eyes, of the way her pupils dilated until they seemed to swallow the night.
She’d been able to speak earlier. Even when he’d been doling out her punishment she’d still found her words when she needed them, making petulant little comments that made him want to bite down on that adorable pout she had, to hold her hands above her head while he made her climax again and again and again.
But now all she could do was mewl as their bodies writhed. Her eyes were closed, her hands caught beneath his, her mouth fallen open as feeble cries and whimpers poured from her lips. A trickle of drool tracked down her cheek from the corner of her lips, shining silver in the light that managed to creep into the room.
He had her legs thrown over his shoulders, her knees nearly brushing the sides of her head. From this angle he could see everything as he drew back and plunged inside of her, so deep she squirmed helplessly, crying out as she came again.
He could even see his release trickling out of her, stark against the inside of her thighs. They had long since stained the sheets, and it was smeared all over her. Gavin had tried to mitigate it as best he could, gathering it with his fingers and pushing it back inside of her, as though every drop of it counted.
By now he had certainly fulfilled his promise, that he would stuff her body until she was leaking, until her belly was already swollen.
He couldn’t actually tell if her belly had swollen, and behind the haze of his desire he knew that probably wasn’t actually possible. But it was easy to imagine. Her belly rounded, their child already taken root.
Gavin knew he could have stopped by now, but each time he told himself that this was the last time, Rowan would whimper his name, or he would catch sight of his cum leaking onto the sheets, or she would roll her hips in the throes of her release. He would feel heat burning through him all over again, feel tension coiling deep in his belly, feel the overwhelming need to sink back inside of her and feel as she tightened so wonderfully around him once more.
And Rowan never asked him to stop, never gave any of the signals they had already agreed upon. And he always paused, always checked in to make sure she was alright, his desires be damned.
Yet every time she managed to mumble that she was okay, to nod that she wanted him to continue, to please continue. And he didn’t need to be asked twice.
He listened as her breath caught as their hips slammed together, as she groaned. It was so sweet, like music, like the most beautiful of songs.
She was so precious, his beautiful, delicate flower. She had given herself to him entirely, had trusted him entirely.
She was his, she was entirely his. Every mark on her neck, every time he climaxed inside of her was proof of that. She was his Rowan, his wife. 
And oh was she so perfect, so utterly beautiful. Every moment of their lives she was beautiful, but the way she looked now was beyond his comprehension. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes still closed, her hands caught above her head. If he kissed her she would tilt her head back for him so he could deepen it as he liked, could bite her lip or swipe his tongue into her mouth. If he played with her breasts, whether which his hands or his lips, she would make the prettiest sounds he had ever heard, spurring him on even more.
And when he brought her to her release she would try her best to gasp out his name, would reach for him even when there was no strength left in her arms. And as she came she was always so good, taking him along with her, clenching so hard around him that he almost always climaxed right after her.
He always did his best to put her needs and her wants first, always did his best to take care of her. But she always let him be as greedy as he wanted when they were like this. She was always letting him have his way, letting him take control and doing whatever he wanted until they were both satisfied.
And Gavin was greedy. Terribly, desperately greedy. And she was his beautiful flower, his sweet princess, who so obediently lay there while he had his way. She moved when he told her to, never stifled the sounds she made just as he always asked, stayed still as best she could the way he asked. And she let him fill her until she was overflowing, even more proof that she was his.
He’d never thought he would get to experience love, real true love. That was for someone else, someone who was not covered in scars, who did not flinch at the slightest flicker of flames, whose hands were not calloused and stained from violence.
He’d been a ghost in the world, merely passing through, all his senses dulled, washing over him like winds ruffling his hair. He could sense them, faintly, just as he could feel the warmth of summer in a breeze, or the bite of winter in a gale. But it never overwhelmed him, never filled the hollows of his bones or wrapped around his heart like climbing ivy.
Then Rowan had stepped into his life, and colour and life exploding in her wake. Gales had turned to typhoons, the breeze into a hurricane. He hadn’t been a ghost any longer, had felt himself coming alive with every moment he spent beside her.
Part of him had feared that his growing love had been one-sided, but then Rowan had given herself to him entirely. Had pressed her heart into his hands and told him that she wanted him to keep it safe, that she was his.
Sunshine was brighter, colours more vibrant. When flowers bloomed he could smell their sweet perfume, when leaves rustled on branches they sounded like music. Blankets felt softer, food tasted better. His world had turned to technicolour, everything bright and loud and more beautiful than he had thought possible.
He looked down at her now, eyes slowly opening, eyes so dark they seemed nearly black as they met his gaze.
“Mmmm…” It sounded like she was trying to say something, but her words melted away each time she tried.
His wife, his beautiful, wonderful wife. She’d gilded the world in gold, had filled his heart with sunshine. And she had made him needy. Had made him incredibly, painfully greedy. For her, for every part of her.
“What is it?” He leaned close, tracing his lips down the line of her jaw. “What do you want to say, princess?”
She whimpered as their hips met, and he sucked in a sharp breath, her walls tightening around him so suddenly he nearly fell apart right then.
“Tell me,” he murmured against her throat, sighing as he rolled his hips against hers, as he sank deep inside of her.
He was teasing her, if only a little. He knew it was difficult now for her to find any words, and yet he wanted to hear what she had to say. Wanted to hear her shaky, needy voice as she managed to give form to whatever she was thinking.
Maybe she wanted him to touch her more, maybe she wanted him to go faster. He’d been alternating between slow, languid movements, and a much faster pace, and although they both climaxed much sooner the faster he moved, there was something he adored about watching her squirm and pant and whimper his name while vainly trying to get him to move faster. And her release was always much longer when he moved slowly, and it was so mesmerizing to watch when she did, her mouth falling open, her head tilting back, her legs tensing around him as her hands dug into the blankets or into his skin.
“I…” She managed all of one word before it turned breathy, choked off by a cry. 
She clenched around him and he groaned, struggling to draw in breath as heat raced across his skin, as the tension in his body reached a breaking point. Her walls trembled around him as he thrust forward, losing sight of his previous rhythm. Her legs were shaking, her body arching as much as it could in the position he was holding her in. Her hips ground against his, lightning flashing in the back of his mind.
Cold air bit at Gavin’s skin, ripples of air dragging through his hair, but he couldn’t seem to reel in his evol. Not yet, not right now. She was so close, he could feel it with every quiver of her body.
He pulled away from where he had been focusing his attentions, her neck and shoulders covered in crimson marks and impressions of his teeth. He needed to see her face, needed to watch as it scrunched up, as her breaths came out in short gasps, as she tossed her head from side-to-side and whined.
Gavin had to take hold of her legs as he repositioned himself. They were beginning to slip, and he suspected she did not have much strength left in them.
“You can do it,” he breathed, releasing his hold on her legs to find her hands. They were still lying on the bed above her head, palms up like she was waiting for his hands to find them. Like her hands had been made just for him, to be held by him.
Her mouth curled up in a smile as she swallowed, her hips struggling to find the unbalanced tempo he had set. He found her hands, felt as her fingers twined with his. Her nails dug into his skin as her smile slipped away, her mouth falling open as she started to gasp.
He stroked her hands, joy a soft, gentle light in the wildfire razing through him. He was so thankful she had chosen him, that she had let him be a part of her life. That she let him see this beautiful face she always made as she was about to climax.
“Cum for me, princess,” he cooed, quickening the thrust of his hips.
And she did, soundless cries falling from her lips as her body shook, as her legs tensed around his shoulders. Her back arched, her hands squeezing his so tightly he was sure she drew blood.
“Good girl.” He watched as she was caught in the throes of her release, as she squirmed and whimpered and clutched him with all her might.
His breath caught as she continued to tremble, as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. She clenched around him again and again, so tight it felt like he could hardly move, like she was trying to hold him inside of her.
Her walls continued to constrict, her body continued to writhe beneath him. Her hips connected with his, her pace uneven and ragged, yet drawing him further towards the edge nonetheless. She cried out again, his name sounding like a prayer on her lips.
It was all too much for Gavin, and he found his release soon after. He couldn’t help it, not when she was so beautiful, when she was whining his name. She was still moving beneath him, their bodies pressed so close he wasn’t sure where the boundaries of his body lay. But he did know that it was intoxicating, that he was drunk on the sound of her voice and the feel of her skin. That he could cum a million more times and still never be fully satisfied.
His grip on her hands loosened as his body trembled, the strength in his arms giving out. He pressed his face against her shoulder, groaning her name again and again as he moved his hips. He could feel as he came, as he filled her more, as his release spilled into her body.
The thought of it had his core tightening, heat slipping into his veins once more, banishing the ash from the previous fire before it had time to settle.
The winds around them churned faster as he continued to fill her body, as he stuffed her to the very brim.
Her hands slipped away from his, combing through his hair and running down his back. They were gentle, soft, like she were coaxing him onward, encouraging him to keep going.
But more than that it just felt nice. It felt comforting, being held in her arms, as precious to her as she was to him.
It was a long while before his body finally relaxed, before he slowed his movements, stopping them altogether.
“Gavin?” Her voice was small, her words caught in the wind and nearly stolen away. She was rubbing circles against his back, her movements gentle and slow.
He pried himself away just enough to find her face, to gaze down at her flushed cheeks and her dark eyes and her bruised lips.
“What is it, love?” He cupped her cheek, stroking the corner of her lip.
Her lips curled up in a soft smile. “I love you.”
Gavin drew in a sharp breath, those three simple words caught up in the wind, curling round and round and round, echoing through the room.
Rowan giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “I love you so much, babey.”
He could feel her breath ghosting against his thumb, warmth blooming wherever his skin touched hers. For a moment the wildfire was tempered, replaced by a gentle glow. It was the first rays of sunshine gilding the dawn, setting droplets of dew alight, turning the world to glitter.
Gavin wasn’t always sure if people were born with any purpose. People were born, and they would rise and fall by their own merits, their own strengths, their own choices. He knew that perhaps best of all.
But he knew with absolute certainty that he had been born to meet this woman. That he had been made just for her. To fit so perfectly in her arms. He had been born to listen to her laughter and see her smile.
There was a lump in his throat, and it caught his words as he tried to give them form.
So he kissed her instead.
He leaned down, brushing his lips to hers, revelling in her quiet sigh. He was gentle at first, cupping her face with both hands as he kissed her. He swiped his tongue along the seam of her lips, and as she parted them for him he couldn’t help groaning.
Her lips were plush, her body soft against his. He couldn’t just stop with a simple kiss, couldn’t end their embrace like this.
So he kissed her harder, tipping her head back, one hand still on her cheek while the other pressed into the sheets, supporting him as he leaned over her, as he kissed her deeper.
She whimpered, her hands sliding from his hair to his cheeks. She stroked the edge of his jaw as she parted her lips more, letting him have his way. She arched her back, the softness of her breasts rubbing against his chest.
Heat was coiling in his core, and his cock, still buried inside of her, hardened once again. He still needed more; he didn’t think he would be able to stop here, not as each little movement was an ember catching flame in the kindling of his bones.
He was already panting as he broke the kiss, a line of silvery saliva connecting their lips as he found her eyes in the darkness.
“I love you too.” His words were breathy, his voice gravelly and low.
He adored every part of her. He adored her heart, her soul, her mind. But right now he still needed her, needed her body.
He felt like he was under a spell; he was so utterly bewitched by her he could not stop, not yet. He still wanted her, still needed her.
“One more time,” he rasped, holding her gaze while he waited for her response.
And Rowan nodded, a content smile on her lips. “One more time.”
Gavin kissed her again, so deeply she gasped.
And then he moved again, thrusting his hips at a punishing pace. If this would be their last time tonight then he wanted to make sure he heard as many of those sweet, addicting noises that spilled from her lips as he could.
Already he could feel her body tightening around him. The hands she’d cupped his cheeks with had buried themselves in his hair once more, tugging helplessly as he sank into her. Each slap of their hips was punctuated by a sharp gasp, followed by Rowan moaning his name so beautifully he thought he would cum right then.
He murmured her name like he was a supplicant, like she was a goddess who he prayed to every night. He lowered his head, lips brushing against the swell of her breast. He traced it with his lips, moving inward slowly while she whined and writhed, her hips bucking as she tried to keep pace.
“Just stay still,” he breathed, taking her hips and holding her steady. “Don’t move, princess. Let me take care of you.”
It sounded like she was trying to argue, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a wordless cry as he slammed deep inside of her.
“Just keep making those pretty little sounds,” he teased. “They sound so good, princess. They make me so hard.”
He was rewarded with her body tightening around him, and more adorable whimpers from her lips. It sounded a little like his name, and it made him smile against her breast. “Good girl.”
She tugged at his hair again, dull pain pricking at the back of his head. He felt her nails dig into his scalp, and he chuckled even as a wave of heady desire overtook him. His cock twitched at the sharp feel of her nails dragging over his skin, of her breath tangling in his hair.
He didn’t know how long he could hang on, but he knew he needed to keep himself together for a while yet. He couldn’t unravel, not when he had his Rowan to take care of first.
He kept one hand at her hips, the other toying with her breast while he swirled his tongue around her hard nipple. He drew it into his mouth slowly, flicking his tongue over it until she moaned. Her hands were at the nape of his neck, but he could feel their strength slowly giving out, his sweet wife falling apart just for him.
He grazed his teeth over her breast, earning a gasp. Her arms were shaking, her legs twitching. She was quivering around him, already so close to the edge.
Gavin slowed his pace then, not wanting her to find her release just yet. He wanted to touch her more, just a little bit more.
He murmured praises as he moved slower, focusing on teasing her breasts. They were so soft, so perfect for laying his head. He could have kept himself buried in them for the rest of the night, her heartbeat thrumming against his cheek as he enjoyed them.
But there was more of her to touch, and he’d promised to take care of her; he couldn’t be selfish right now, not when he’d been selfish all night.
There was the gentle curve of her hips, the roll of her belly. There were her thighs, so soft, the skin perfect for sinking his teeth into. And of course there was her ass, round and perfect for squeezing in his hands.
He touched every part of her that he could, pressing his lips to her skin, swiping his tongue over her sensitive flesh. He grasped handfuls of her rear as he nipped at her skin, leaving love bites wherever he could. There was no part of her body that didn’t have any red marks, that wouldn’t carry proof of his love.
Her arms, too weak to continue holding him as she had, slumped to the bed, grasping weakly at the sheets. Her walls fluttered around him, one moment gentle as the beat of a butterfly, the next strong as iron, clenching forcefully around him. Her eyes were half-lidded, and he could barely make out the warm colour of her eyes as she watched him. She panted, her lips moving over soundless words between her breathy gasps.
“That’s it.” He encouraged her to keep going, focusing on the places she most liked to be touched. His hands shook with his desire to move quickly, to take hold of all his favourite parts of her. To savour the feel of her skin, the feel of her orgasm when it came.
But Rowan deserved to be touched gently, slowly, with love and care. He had already been rough and fast with her. He wanted her to feel loved, to feel protected and precious. He wanted to finish the night with all the love he had for her, and the hope that his love would turn into something more. Something small and round, with her smile and her laugh.
So Gavin touched her slowly, murmuring against her skin as he scattered kisses over every inch of skin that he could reach. That she was beautiful, that she was so good, that she felt so good around him. Promises that he would make her pregnant, that she’d been so good while he’d stuffed her with his cum, that he would take such good care of her when she was pregnant.
It took longer than he’d thought to take her to the edge, to coax her along until the twitching of her walls around him turned to spasms, until he felt her toes curling against his back. And she seemed to be enjoying herself plenty, her eyes opening wider, delight brightening their depths, a smile ghosting across her lips.
Although she couldn’t reach her arms up, she did wiggle her fingers, gesturing the way she always did when she wanted him to hold her hands. Gavin obliged, feeling that her release was swiftly arriving, her body arching from the bed, growing so tight around his cock he gasped as he plunged back inside of her.
He threaded his fingers with hers, lips hovering over where her pulse thrummed in her neck, quick as hummingbird wings.
“I love you,” he said, moaning as she did, her sounds of pleasure sending liquid heat racing through his body, pooling in his core. “I love you, princess.”
She whined again, her voice rising in pitch. Her head fell back against the pillows, throat bobbing as she swallowed. The heat in his body grew stronger, brighter, like a star was exploding to life. It was hard to feel anything but overwhelming desire, listening to the sounds she was making, hard to stop the heat coiling in his body.
“Rowan.” He breathed her name like a prayer. Her pulse seemed to stutter, stumbling the way he always did when they danced together.
“Mmm,” was her only reply, her hands squeezing his.
“Rowan, I can’t wait for you to be pregnant,” he continued. His words were small, breathy. He felt like a child kneeling at their window staring up at the stars as they made a wish. He felt like a supplicant at the altar of his most beloved goddess.
The sharp breath she took told him that she’d heard what he’d said. She tried turning her head to face him, but he still had his face pressed against her throat, still listening to the flutter of her pulse.
Gavin pulled back slowly, meeting her gaze. She clenched around him again, harder this time, the spasms in her body growing more and more frequent, like she was being shocked by lightning.
“Don’t look away,” he ordered. “Keep your eyes on me.”
They were at the end now, he could feel how close she was.
He smiled, stroking her wrist with his thumb, watching as she struggled to meet his eyes.
“You’re going to be so pretty,” he cooed, one hand moving to her hips, sliding over her belly. “You’re going to be so pretty with my baby inside of you.”
She tensed, fluttering helplessly around him. He watched as her eyes widened, her pupils dilating. Her lip was trembling, as though she were about to cry out.
“And everyone will know you’re mine.” He lowered his voice to a whisper that he hoped was even half as intoxicating as her cries were. “That my baby is inside of you.”
Rowan whimpered, her eyes starting to close.
He clicked his tongue, taking hold of her chin. Her eyes snapped back open, wide as saucers as he tipped her head back.
“I told you not to look away.” His voice wasn’t as soft anymore, the edges of his words biting like winter winds.
Her bottom lip trembled more, and she swallowed. Her hands shook, slowly rising from the bed to reach for him. “Yes, sir.”
He twitched, the heat in his body expanding. It wouldn’t be long before he was no longer able to contain it.
“You’re just so pretty.” At this point he couldn’t help himself. He could try to hold onto the commanding persona he liked to assume, but he could feel himself unravelling, so much quicker than anticipated. All he could think about was her, about how pretty she was, how lovely her voice was, how nice she felt beneath him.
He just wanted to hold her hand and imagine her carrying his child. He just wanted her belly to grow round, her cheeks stained in a perpetual blush.
“And do you know what?” He lowered his voice, softened it until it brushed against her flushed skin like a feather. He could feel himself quivering inside of her, throbbing as her walls spasmed around him.
Her lips parted, wobbling as she managed a weak “what?”
He lowered his lips to the shell of her ear. “Everyone will know that I’m yours.”
She gasped, and he could feel the way she fluttered around him, so tight it felt like her body was trying to draw the cum from him. The heat in his core was spilling into his cock, and he knew he was teetering at the edge, little more than a breath away from freefall.
“Help me make a baby, my princess.” He tried to murmur his words as smoothly as he could, but they came out breathy, stilted. His whole body burned, and he knew he was about to be swept away in the inferno. “All I can think about is filling you until my baby is in you.”
Whimpering, she took hold of his wrists, her grip surprisingly strong.
“Good girl,” he breathed. Her legs were twitching, her heels digging into his back as though she were trying to hold herself in place. “Good. Let me fill you up just like this.”
She was struggling to keep her eyes open, he could tell. But he wanted to look at her when she came, he wanted to see her release in her expression right before he spilled inside of her again. He wanted to watch as her eyes were swallowed by the black of her pupil, until he felt like he was looking at the moments before the dawn. He wanted to watch as her lashes fluttered, as gasps stained by little whimpers fell from her swollen lips. And then, as she was reaching her very peak, he would press his mouth to hers, would swallow those whimpers and moans entirely, the feel of her body trembling beneath him pushing him over the edge.
“Keep your eyes on me.” He took hold of her chin, keeping her focused on him. He smiled as her eyes widened, satisfaction arcing through him like lightning “Don’t look away, princess.”
“I’m not.” Her brow furrowed for the barest of moments. She looked like she was trying to pout, and the attempt made Gavin chuckle.
“Don’t…” She groaned. “Don’t laugh at me.”
He kissed the fluttering pulse in her throat before meeting her gaze once more. “I would never. But I want you to watch me.”
Gavin narrowed his eyes, slamming his hips against hers, picking up the pace once more. It took him a moment to find his words again, his body convulsing as her hips rolled against his, grinding against him so perfectly.
“Watch me fill you up,” he leaned close to nip at the shell of her ear. “Watch as I put my baby in you.”
Rowan cried out, the pulsing of her walls as erratic as her pulse, as her ragged breaths.
She screamed out his name, her nails digging into the skin of his wrists. Her body arched, her eyes practically rolling into the back of her head.
The sweat of her body, the grinding of her hips, the spasming of her body around him, the stream of moans and whines falling from her lips. It was all too much for him. He ached, throbbing almost painfully before the tension in his body snapped.
Gavin found her lips as he unravelled, moaning as his seed spilled inside of her. It felt wet and hot, her body feeling even tighter than it had when they’d first begun, like there was no space left inside of her.
He kept moving his hips, kept thrusting deep into her again and again, his movements fast, unsteady. He needed to push his release as far into her as he could, had to bury it deep inside of her body so their baby could grow.
The desire to be closer overwhelmed him, and he broke their kiss to press his face against her neck. He kissed her roughly, nipped at her collarbone, dragged his lips down to her breasts to bury his face in the valley between them.
He groaned, listening to the frantic beat of her heart. She was hot, burning up like she’d been caught in the wildfire in his veins. It would consume them both, turn them to ash on the messy sheets.
He murmured her name again and again. Oh how his Rowan felt so good, how she sounded so good. She was squeezing him so tight, it was so good. His princess, his beautiful princess. His precious Rowan.
He wasn’t even sure if she could hear his words. He was moaning them against her skin, the wind in their room howling. But he also couldn’t stop. Couldn��t stop saying her name, couldn’t stop breathing praises with every thrust of his hips.
Rowan’s hands found their way into his hair, the sensation of her nails scraping along his scalp making him groan. He could hardly think beyond the feel of her skin against his, the sharp pierce of her nails dragging down his neck.
They rode out their orgasms together, bodies tangled together as they shuddered. They were caught in a storm, lightning striking in their bones, wind tearing at their hair. Perhaps they were the storm itself; Gavin certainly felt like he was swept up in the force of her release, in how it seemed to shatter his world.
He was gasping for breath when the hurricane of their shared climax finally calmed. There was wreckage in their wake; torn clothes, stained sheets, picture frames knocked over on bedside tables, Rowan’s collection of plushies toppled onto the floor from the shelf they’d so lovingly been set on.
It was a mess to be handled later. Because right now Gavin was still revelling in the feel of her body. He was listening to the rhythm of her heart as its beat slowed, sighing as she ran her fingers through his hair, gentle this time.
“I love you,” he breathed, brushing a chaste kiss to the curve of her breast. “I love you, Rowan.”
She whined, shifting beneath him until her lips found the top of his head.
Her response was breathy, small. But to him it was more precious than any gemstone, any poetic speech. “I love you too.”
He could have stayed there forever. He could have stayed wrapped up in her arms for all of eternity.
But, there was still more he had to do.
With a desolate sigh, Gavin slowly peeled himself away from her body. Rowan whined, pouting at him as though to persuade him to stay put.
“Hold on, princess.” He winced as he drew himself from her body, his release smearing the delicate skin and the inside of her thighs. “There’s still something else we have to do.”
“Babey.” She wiggled helplessly, her brow furrowing. “Come back.”
“In a minute. Just be patient.” He couldn’t help chuckling, even as he longed to lay back in her arms. He was never happier than when he was wrapped in her embrace, never safer than when he was cradled in her arms.
“You want a baby, don’t you?”
She blinked, her eyes glassy, as though she’d forgotten everything but him.
He wouldn’t have minded that; he always wanted to be the most important thing on her mind, just as she was always his.
“Pumpkin.” He smirked, delight dancing in his chest. “Didn’t you want to make a baby?”
Slowly she nodded, some of the light returning to her eyes.
“Then let me do this, and then we can cuddle.”
Her eyes brightened until they looked like they were made of starlight. There were galaxies in her eyes, entire universes of life and warmth and all the love he would ever need.
He instructed her to lay back, retrieving the pillows and tucking them beneath her head and beneath her hips. She’d been lying on her back for a while, and he didn’t want her to be in any pain.
Then he carefully folded her legs against her chest, stroking her hair as he laid beside her.
“Do you think this will work?” She sounded sleepy, but there was a twinkle of hope, like the first shimmer of light before dawn broke across the sky.
“I do.”
A smile like a crescent moon arced over her lips. “You think we made a baby?”
He leaned close, brushing a kiss to her cheek. “If we didn’t, we can always try again.”
Rowan smirked, watching him from the corner of her eyes. “And if we really did make a baby?”
“Then when that baby is born, we’ll try again for another.”
She gasped, trying to roll onto her side to smack him. Laughter bubbled in his chest as he took hold of her hands, bringing them to his lips.
“You need to lie still,” he teased, brushing kisses to her fingertips. “Or else it won’t take.”
“You’re making it awfully difficult,” she groused.
The wrinkle of her nose made him laugh, and he nearly lost his grip on her legs.
“What exactly am I doing that’s making it so difficult?” He pinched her side, feeling smug as her cheeks deepened to crimson once more.
A line formed between her brows, and he could tell she was trying very hard to be annoyed at him, to find a reason to be annoyed with him. “You’re teasing me.”
“I would never.”
When she tried to wriggle her hands free he just kissed them again, nipped at her fingertips until she stopped fighting against him.
“Yes you are.” Her voice rose an octave, turning to a warbling whine. “You’re teasing me right now!”
It was a fight to hold back his smile, and he was losing terribly. “I’m just trying to keep you from moving to make sure everything we’ve done takes.” He knew he was beaming perhaps a little too widely, but he couldn’t help the spark of mischief that bounced around the cavern of his ribs. “Unless you want us to do this again.”
“Of course I want to-” Her words cut off suddenly, her eyes widening as she realized she’d walked right into his trap.
He snorted, which only seemed to add fuel to the fire.
“Gavin Bai!” It would have been a shriek had her vocal chords not been tired from how long she’d been screaming his name. Instead it sounded more like an indignant, raspy sigh.
“Yes?” He nipped her fingers again, adoring the way colour rose on her cheeks as he did so.
“You’re still teasing me.”
He sank his teeth into the side of her hand, holding her gaze as she sucked in a sharp breath.
“I would never dream of teasing you, Mrs. Bai.”
Her face was so red now it could have been the sky as the fire of the setting sun set it alight. She huffed, turning her head away. “You’re such a liar.”
Now he was gaping, although laughter rattled his bones like bells trembling in the wind. “I would never lie! I don’t lie to you.”
She huffed again, the shadow of a smile on her lips. “You’re teasing me right now, and then saying you’re not!”
He’d been caught, although he hadn’t exactly been trying to hide it. He might as well lean into it.
“I just want you to know that if this doesn’t work we can always try again.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, trailing a line of chaste kisses up the inside of her arm as she squirmed. “I still have vacation time available for this year that I haven’t taken.”
She squirmed, although there was nowhere for her to go. She was stuck in his hold, his lips making their way to her collarbone now, up her throat, much less chaste than before.
“We could go on vacation somewhere warm,” he breathed the words against her skin. “Somewhere always sunny. We can keep the windows open, let the breeze in while-”
He finally made it to her lips, capturing them just as she was trying to chide him. She squeaked, her words cut off before they’d escaped her mouth.
Gavin smiled against her lips, humming. Had there ever really been a point in his life when he hadn’t been this happy? When he hadn’t felt so comfortable, so safe? When he hadn’t felt so free to say what he wanted, when he hadn’t felt so free to want?
He wanted her, he wanted every piece of her. He wanted her little sighs and her warm embraces. He wanted her when she was tired, when she was angry. He wanted her when she was happy, when she shone more brilliantly than the sun.
He wanted their baby. Maybe more than one, if she wanted that too.
And he wanted her to want him. Wanted to be loved by her.
“What do you say?” He asked, beaming as she panted, her brow twitching like she was trying to glare. “Where would you like to go?”
Her eyes cleared then, and she smacked him, laughing. “Gavin!”
“Yes?” He kissed her cheek, her laughter like beautiful music. “Yes, my love?”
“You’re still teasing me!”
He shook his head. “Am not!” She arched a brow in disbelief. Heat crawled over Gavin’s ears and over his cheeks and he looked away, huffing at her skepticism. “I’m just planning out the best way to make a baby.”
She snorted, fingertips sketching over the curve of his ear. “Oh really?”
His shoulders slumped, and he buried his face against her shoulder, trying to hide the flush creeping over him. “I really do want a baby.”
She stilled for the barest of moments, her breath catching. Gavin tensed, wondering what such a response could mean.
“Gavin,” she sighed, rubbing his back. “Won’t you look at me?”
He pressed himself closer, deciding he could be just as petulant as she was sometimes.
“Gavin.”
Perhaps not. He wasn’t particularly skilled at holding out against her. But he did look up slowly, eyes averted as his heart constricted, his chest closing in around it until it could hardly manage a single beat.
She clicked her tongue, cupping his cheeks. “Gavin, babey. Won’t you actually look at me?”
“I am,” he muttered. He even popped his bottom lip out for good measure, knowing that would surely help his case if she were about to chastise him. She thought it was cute, and he usually ended up smothered in kisses whenever he pouted.
She hummed. “Maybe I should get up, if you don’t want to even look at me.”
She started to move, shifting her legs out of his grip and sliding to the side. Gavin didn’t really think before taking her legs and pressing them back to her chest, holding her still with both hands this time.
“Don’t,” he said, breathless. “Just in case it helps.”
She giggled, drawing his face close to kiss him gently. “Will you look at me now?”
He did, knowing he couldn’t resist her for much longer.
“I love you, Gavin,” she breathed, brushing his bangs back from his sweaty forehead. “I love you with my entire heart.”
“I love you, too.”
“Did you mean it?” Her voice lifted, her breath catching as her question hung in the air. “Did you really mean you do want a baby?”
He nodded, holding her gaze now. “I did.”
“You really want one right now?”
He nodded, his throat growing tight. Why was she asking? Was she going to change her mind? Had he said something that scared her?
All his worries were washed away in the next moment, a brilliant smile blooming on Rowan’s lips. She laughed, kissing him again, and again, and again until he was laughing along with her.
“Oh I’m so glad,” she cried, and he realized then that she was crying too. Silver lined her eyes, pooling in the corner of her eyes and slipping down to the ruined sheets. “I’m so glad.”
“You’re not changing your mind?”
She sniffed, shaking her head as she laughed again. “Not even a little bit. I guess…” She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders as her tears spilled in earnest now. “I guess I’m just so happy you want a baby with me.”
He released her legs, wiping the tears from her flushed face. “Of course I do. More than anything.”
“And you really really mean it?”
He cupped her face, stroking her cheeks. “Of course I do.”
“What if I want only one?”
“Then we’ll have one.”
“And if I want two?”
He chuckled, brushing her lips with his. “Then we’ll have two.”
“And if I want more?”
He arched a brow, catching the curve of her lips. Her eyes were bright, curious and amused in equal measure. She was joking now, a little bit. But there was an earnestness to it that he knew she was being genuine.
“As many as you want.” He kissed her again, deeper this time. “We’ll have as many babies as you could want.”
Rowan wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close. “You mean it?”
“There’s nothing that would make me happier.”
She laughed again, tears still trailing down her cheeks as she pressed her face against the side of his neck. “I love you, Gavin. I love you so much.”
He cleared his throat, biting back his smile as he added “that does mean one thing, though.”
She peeled away, peering at him quizzically. “What does it mean?”
“It means you have to let me hold your legs like this a little longer.” He pinched her side. “No wiggling away.”
She huffed, rolling her eyes. “I guess I can handle that.”
“And you have to help me pick out a vacation.”
“Gavin, we can’t just go on vacation, you-”
“We can.” He beamed as he cut her off. “We can just go on vacation.”
She wrinkled her nose, looking at him in disbelief. “And what, have sex the whole time?”
“Do you know another way to make a baby?” He tapped her bottom lip, smirking.
“But to take a vacation so suddenly? Isn’t work busy right now for you?”
He sighed, kissing her again. “Just consider it, pumpkin. I’d like to take some time, just the two of us.”
“Okay,” she murmured, seeming more at ease. “I’ll consider it.”
They stayed that way for a while longer, fatigue slowly settling over them like a blanket. His body grew heavy, Rowan’s eyes fluttered as she struggled to keep them open. He could feel his mind straying, sinking into the murky world of his dreams. He loosed his hold on her legs without realizing it, and they fell to the sheets with a soft shush.
In the back of his mind he knew he should probably get up. His release got long-since cooled and it had grown thick and tacky on her skin. He needed to wipe it up at the very least, make her more comfortable. It was too late to bathe, and they were both feeling the exhaustion of their earlier activities creeping through their veins, but he could still clean her up a little.
But when he moved she whined, digging her nails into his back.
“Princess, please,” he said, fighting against a yawn. “I need to clean you up.”
“But I don’t want you to go,” she whined, pouting so adorably his resolve shook. “You’re so warm. I wanna hold you.”
“It will just be a minute,” he promised. “But I need to get you cleaned up.”
She huffed, wrinkling her nose as she squeezed her eyes shut. “But I want you to stay.”
“I’ll be right back. Please, princess.”
Dragging himself from her arms was perhaps the most difficult thing he had ever done, but he managed it. Rowan continued to complain from the bed, whimpering that she was cold and lonely. There was a smile in her voice, he could tell, but that didn’t stop the longing that grew in his heart with every step away from her.
“Gavin, I’m sleepy,” she called as he ran a soft cloth under warm water.
“I know, love,” he called back, emerging from the bathroom, eyes aching from the sudden brightness when he’d flicked the lights on.
“I can’t sleep without you.”
He chuckled, quickening his pace until he was perched on the side of the bed. “I’m right here, see?”
She huffed, clearly displeased. But this was the least he could do; he needed to take care of, needed to make sure she felt more comfortable before she fell asleep.
“Don’t pout,” he cooed, carefully wiping her clean. “I’m almost done.”
“Then you’ll come back to bed?”
He smiled as he sat back, his mission completed. “Yes.”
“Promise?”
He nodded, brushing a kiss to her brow. “I promise. Just let me put this cloth in the laundry.”
Gavin could not have taken more than two minutes at the most to toss the cloth into the bathroom laundry and wash his hands. Yet when he returned, bathroom lights off and the room illuminated by the soft glow of the nightlight in the corner, she was already half-asleep.”
Rowan had curled up on her side, her eyes closed, her features softened in the golden haze that stained the shadows of the room. When he brushed her hair back from her cheek she only sighed, murmuring something unintelligible.
He smiled, trying to be as careful as he could as he slipped into bed beside her. Her brows furrowed and she shifted, pressing her face against his chest.
Gavin had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing aloud, worried about waking her. It was just so funny, so sweet. That she would want him at all, that even in sleep she craved his presence.
Years ago he would have thought something like this unbelievable. But there was nothing he believed in more than how much he loved her, and how much she loved him. Even in sleep he reached for her, nestled as close to her as he could. And in sleep she would hold him in a tight embrace until she awoke.
Sometimes it was an embrace that was a bit too tight, and he would wake first, but still it warmed his heart. Still it felt like he was awash in light more pure and life-giving than that of the sun.
He drew her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. Some of their blankets had been shoved to the side and he took hold of one, drawing it over their tangled bodies. She still felt a little warm, but he knew she would grow cold as the night wore on, and he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.
“I love you,” he murmured, pressing one final kiss to the top of her head.
He felt her arms coiling around his side, heard the sound of her contented sigh as they melted together. And that was the last thing he remembered before slipping into oblivion.
***
They slept late into the morning. It was nearly noon by the time Rowan cracked her eyes open, not even the dark curtains able to hold back the bright gold of the sun.
She’d nestled back against Gavin, breathing in the smell of his skin; sweat and the remnants of his cologne and his soap. She was barely awake, and yet she’d already been able to feel the dull ache blooming at the apex of her thighs. Her body felt stiff, too, and even her bones seemed to ache when she moved.
It would be so much better to stay curled up in Gavin’s arms forever. He would keep her safe and warm, he would make sure she stayed comfortable.
But Gavin was already awake, his fingers tangling in her hair as she’d snuggled closer, the low rumble of his chuckle reverberating through her.
“Good morning,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “How did you sleep, my princess?”
“Good morning.” Her voice had been little more than a tired grumble, her eyes already falling closed as the beat of his heart began lulling her back to sleep. “S’good.”
He chuckled again, and butterflies emerged from her heart, fluttering gossamer wings against the edges of her chest. “Any good dreams?”
She gave a tired shake of her head. “No. No dreams.”
He rubbed her back, kissing her again. “And how do you feel?”
She groaned, pressing closer.
“Rowan, tell me how you feel.”
“Tired,” she whined, peeling away from his chest to glower at him. “I feel sleepy.”
He sighed, tapping her cheek. “Does it hurt anywhere? Are you okay?”
She looked away, pouting. “I’m okay Gavin, really. I just want to stay like this a little longer.”
His expression softened and he nodded, drawing her back against his chest. “Alright. But we should probably get you cleaned up.”
“What about you?” She traced her fingers across his chest, revelling in how strong he could be and how soft and comfortable he was.
“I’m not the one still full of cum.”
She froze, cheeks burning like she’d been set alight. “Well… Um…”
Rowan didn’t have to look up to know Gavin was smirking, one brow arched as he patiently waited for a response she didn’t have. He hummed, running his hand up and down the back of her neck, massing the crook of her neck before sliding his hand up again.
“I could also be carrying your baby now.” Her tongue felt heavy and thick in her mouth as she stammered out the words, but the effect they had on Gavin was almost instantaneous.
He froze, his breath catching. He seemed to tense, and as Rowan lifted her head she caught sight of the adorable blush that always stained the tips of his ears before washing over the rest of his face.
“What do you think?” She couldn’t help teasing him, not after he’d teased her so much the night before. She took his hand, guiding it to her belly. “Do you think there’s a baby in there?”
Gavin coughed, quickly averting his eyes. “I hope so.”
“Well weren’t you the one who said if there wasn’t we could always try again.”
His eyes narrowed, little more than dark gold slits as they slowly turned back to her. “I was.”
“And that we could go on a nice long vacation to try in peace?”
He moved before she could breathe, flipping her onto her back, hands pressing into the pillows on either side of her head.
“Are you saying we should try a little more? Just to be safe?” He leaned close, nipping at her ear.
Whatever Rowan had been planning to say fled her mind on iridescent wings, leaving nothing behind but the fluttering of her heart as Gavin continued to nip and kiss his way along her jaw.
“I was only saying…” She trailed off, her thoughts slippery as she tried to grasp at them. What had she been saying?
He hummed, his lips at the thrum of her pulse in her neck. “Tell me, princess. What were you saying?”
She squeaked, fingers twisting into his hair. “I don’t remember.”
He started laughing then, warm and low and beautiful as the melody of any love song.
“What?!” She snapped, but there was no true ire in her voice. She just sounded breathy, maybe a little nervous.
Gavin peeled away from her, gently drawing her against his chest as he rolled onto his back. “Nothing, love. You’re just so cute.”
She ground her teeth together, levelling a furious stare at him. “You were teasing me again, weren’t you!”
“It’s just so easy,” he murmured against her hair, hiding his face from her as he continued to laugh.
“You’re so unbelievable!” She tried smacking him, but he only laughed harder, and she realized her efforts were in vain.
She deflated, smushing her cheek against his chest. “You have to be nice to me. I could be carrying your baby.”
“I’m always nice to you.” He tucked her hair back behind her ear, a smile in his voice.
“We clearly have different definitions of always,” she grumbled, glaring at the muscles she had been enamoured with barely a few moments earlier.
He pinched her side, shocking her from her thoughts. “What was that?”
Rowan pouted. “See? That’s not nice!”
“I’m sorry love,” he cooed, rubbing her back. “It’s just so easy to tease you. And you always look so pretty when you’re irritated.”
She furrowed her brow even as her cheeks heated. Why was he such a dork? Why did he say such dorky things thinking they were sweet? And why were they always as sweet as spun sugar to her anyways?
“You’re pretty always,” he amended, cupping her cheek. “But I do love this expression.”
Rowan sighed, leaning into his touch. “You’re so lucky I love you.”
“I’m the luckiest person in the world to be loved by you.”
She smiled, tilting her head to press a kiss to his palm. “You mean that?”
He smiled now too, the colour rising in his cheeks. “With my whole heart.”
She kissed his hand again, holding it against her cheek while he chuckled, telling her that her little kisses tickled. She considered trailing kisses up his arm, listening to his laughter grow and expand like a newborn star, but just as she leaned forward the ache between her legs sharpened, and her legs began to throb dully.
“Gavin.” His eyes brightened, refocusing on her face. His expression looked dreamy, like he was caught in a daydream, like he was filled with adoration for her. It made her body turn to jelly, and she nearly melted into a Rowan-shaped puddle beneath his gaze.
“What is it?” He cupped the back of her neck with his other hand, his thumb idly stroking the side of her throat.
“My body kind of aches.” A flicker of worry darkened his expression, but she quickly kissed his wrist, hoping that would distract him. The absolute last thing she wanted was for him to feel upset or guilty for the aches and bruises she was beginning to feel. They were nothing more than reminders of how wholly he had made love to her and she wasn’t about to let him think for a second that it was a bad thing.
“Do you think we could have a bath?” She asked, pouting just a little bit. Gavin couldn’t say no when she pouted, especially not right now when she was tangled in his arms and still very, very naked from the night before.
He didn’t hesitate, murmuring in affirmation before disentangling himself from her arms.
“Just wait here,” he said, kissing her cheek as he stood. “I’ll be right back.”
“Babey, wait,” she reached out to snag his hand, stopping him in his tracks.
He arched a brow. “What is it?”
“Well it kind of hurts,” she flicked her gaze down to the apex of her thighs, then back up. “There. I need you to carry me.”
He blinked once, twice, and then his eyes brightened and a sly smile began to spread across his lips. “As you wish, my princess.”
A few minutes passed, the sound of water running in the bathroom, and then Gavin was returning, scooping her into his arms like she truly was a delicate princess and carrying her to the bath.
“Maybe we should try more often,” she mused as he lowered her into the water. “I do like being carried in your arms.”
His expression was one of bliss, so much reverence and love in his eyes that if she’d been standing her legs would have given out beneath her. “I’ll carry you whenever you ask.”
“Even if my legs are working just fine?”
“If that’s what makes you happy.” He stroked her jaw, kneeling beside the tub as he watched her with those soft, warm eyes.
She splashed him, grinning as he chuckled. “Are you not getting in with me?”
“In a minute.” His bangs were soaked from the water, and as he ran his fingers through his hair they slicked back, a few loose tendrils framing his brow.
She pouted, splashing him again. “Why not now?” She needed him now, needed to nestle against his chest for a while.
He snorted, flicking the surface of the bathwater back at her. “It will only be a few minutes. I just want to get the sheets in the laundry.”
She huffed, sinking in the water until she was almost entirely submerged. “I guess that’s a good point.”
“Just relax for a few minutes. I’ll be back soon.”
And then he really was gone, and Rowan couldn’t keep splashing him. She groaned, sinking fully beneath the water. The bath was perfectly hot, the heat of the water seeping into her bones, easing some of the aches in her body.
She still felt stiff, and it probably would be a bit difficult to walk all day, but at least the heat was soothing her muscles, relaxing her body until it felt warm and weightless.
Gavin returned quickly, only leaving Rowan to languish in the solitary bath for a few moments. She dunked her head a few more times, reminded of when she would pretend she was a mermaid as a child. His muffled laughter broke through the water and she popped her head up, wiping her face to find him grinning down at her.
“Having fun?”
She splashed him again, scooting forward to make room for him. “I am.”
He arched a brow, grabbing a towel and settling it on the floor. “And what are you doing? Pretending to be a mermaid?”
“And what if I am?”
His smile grew, and he kissed the top of her head. “I already know you’re magical.”
She reached up to take his hands, water splattering over the edge of the tub and over the towel he’d laid down. “I mean I’m not actually a mermaid.”
He lifted her hands to his lips. “I only mean that I wouldn’t be surprised if you were.”
It was so hard not to smile. His words were silly, almost childish. And yet his eyes were so bright, his own smile so soft. Perhaps a little proud too, at having said something he thought was pretty cool.
“You’re such a dork,” she teased, flicking his cheek.
“But I’m yours.”
His words sent a tendril of heat twisting down her spine, stretching across her nerves, like ivy tangling itself around her, reaching all the way to her fingertips.
“Yes,” she agreed, squeezing his hands. “You’re mine.”
He lowered her hands back into the water, splashing her lightly. “Do you think I could join you then?”
“Yes. Yes please.”
Gavin didn’t need any more coaxing, slipping into the bath behind her and drawing her against his chest.
“There,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Is that better?”
“Oh it’s much better.”
He stroked her hip absently, humming for a long moment. “I’m glad.”
“Although I’ll still need to be taken care of more I think.” She yawned, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. “You did mention something about me being a princess last night.”
He snorted, nuzzling against the crook of her neck. “I might remember something along those lines.”
“Well I expect you to take care of me like I really am one.”
The rumble of his laughter against her skin spilled through her, like thunder shaking the foundation of a home. There was something comforting in it, something that made her want to curl up inside that sound.
“You are one,” he teased, the kiss he dropped to her shoulder being far more innocent than she thought he was capable of anymore. “Of course I’ll be taking care of my princess exactly as she deserves.”
Heat bloomed in Rowan’s cheeks, his words like sparks of static shock, making her body hum with each lilt of his voice.
“You’ll carry me today?” Her voice was so much quieter than she had wanted, but it was all she could manage as he continued trailing little kisses over her shoulder and up the back of her neck.
His fingertips grazed the skin at the nape of her neck, gently brushing the soft baby hairs that curled there. A shiver went down her spine despite the heat of the bath, despite the growing heat in her face that was crawling across the rest of her body, staining her a burning scarlet.
“I’ll carry you whenever you want,” he promised, murmuring the words against her hair. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Will you order me breakfast?”
She could feel his smile against her. “Already on the way.”
Rowan’s hands sank into the water, and she gave a halfhearted splash. “Will you stay with me all day? And give me little massages where it hurts most?”
Another chuckle, his hands sliding down her sides, gently taking hold of her thighs. “I’ll massage you anywhere you’d like…” He trailed off, his hands slipping up the inside of her thighs, so close to her entrance she could feel the heat from his hands, different from that of the bath.
She felt fatigued from the night before, and the bath was doing nothing but making her body feel leaden, like she could sink into oblivion and never wake for a thousand years. But Gavin’s touch reignited her senses, if only for a spare moment, like a lightbulb flickering to life with the dredges of its power. She elbowed him, water splashing as he grunted, his hand moving to rest on her hip.
“You haven’t even given me time to rest!” She twisted around, splashing water into his face. “I didn’t even get a full night’s sleep!”
He chuckled, wiping his face, his smile all mischief as their eyes met. “If we’re trying to make a baby, shouldn’t we take every opportunity we have to make one?”
She practically shovelled handfuls of water at him, scooting away from him as she continued her assault. Gavin threw his hands up, snorting, although his attempt to defend himself was to no avail. There was no stopping the fistfuls of water, especially not when Rowan grabbed the little cup at the edge of the bath they sometimes used to rinse their hair when they were bathing.
“I need rest!” She cried, dumping water over his head. “I need to rest before you fuck me all night long!”
Gavin ducked his head, hands shooting out to grab hold of her wrists, freezing her attack.
He yanked her back towards him, so suddenly she gasped as she toppled against his chest.
“I like to think of it as making love.” Shivers raced across her skin as he breathed the words against the shell of her ear. Despite the heat of the bath her hair stood on end, her fingers tingling as he continued. “It’s prettier, and suits my princess much more.”
She shivered again, her hands pressed up against his chest, utterly useless now.
“And we’re going to make something beautiful,” he murmured, the sudden contact of his teeth as he nibbled her ear making her breath catch. One of his hands stroked her side, running over her belly like he could already feel life taking root inside of her.
Rowan wasn’t exactly sure what to say, her words escaping her entirely. He was humming now, and she didn’t have to look up to know he was smiling as he ran his hand along the curves of her body. Almost like he were revelling in the state he had put her in, delighting in how she was so flustered she could not speak, could only tense as his hand ghosted over her clit before drawing it away.
“But you’re right.” His tone returned to normal, his hands moving to her back, holding her close but no longer teasing her. “You do need your rest. I want you to feel refreshed before we do any more lovemaking.” He dropped a kiss to the tip of her head, and she couldn’t resist looking up to find his eyes glittering, bright as stars, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a devilish grin.
Rowan pouted. She was unable to do much else, but perhaps Gavin would stop teasing her if she did; he hadn’t been able to resist her pouting face yet.
“Nice try.” Gavin cupped her face, his thumb running over her bottom lip as he laughed. “But I think it’s doing the opposite of what you want it to.”
Heat pooled in her belly as his voice dipped, sweet as sun-warmed honey. “And what do you think I want?”
“I think you want me to stop teasing you,” he continued to stroke her bottom lip, his eyes going dark. “But all this is making me want is to take you right now.”
Rowan’s heartbeat stumbled, and she shivered beneath his gaze. His eyes looked hungry, and his smile was sharp. He looked very much like he would take her right there, would sink his fingers inside of her until she was a whimpering mess, and then he would draw her into his lap and thrust inside of her until she was screaming his name and he filled her entirely all over again.
There was a part of her that ached for him to touch her again. She always ached for his touch, for his hands and his lips and his teeth.
But she was also very tired, and her body felt as though it were made of lead. And right now she just wanted to be held, wanted to be snuggled in his arms as she sank into her dreams. She wanted to be roused by gentle kisses and the smell of breakfast suffusing the air.
Gavin was still smiling at her, one brow arched, and it was only then that she realized she still had her bottom lip out. She drew it in quickly, biting the inside of her lip as he laughed.
“Aren’t you tired?” She squirmed in his arms, breaking free just enough to scoot a few inches away. “We hardly got any sleep!”
“I’m never tired with you.” He seemed amused, his eyes practically glowing as he closed that small distance between them. “I feel like I have all the energy in the world when I’m with you.”
Rowan knew that was categorically a lie. She’d also thought he was full of energy when they’d first started dating, but never had she met anyone more prone to napping. It was like he was perpetually sleepy, always looking for an excuse to cuddle up with her and fall asleep in the early afternoon.
Although perhaps those afternoon naps contributed to this energy he allegedly felt, though. Perhaps he was forever storing up energy for the times when he made love to her for hours at a time.
It was such an absurd thought that Rowan began to giggle, realizing far too late as Gavin’s eyes widened that he was not privy to the strange turn her thoughts had taken.
“What’s so funny?” He looked even more delighted now, leaning so close she nearly fell back.
“It’s nothing!” She scooted away, her back hitting the edge of the tub.
She was trapped, Gavin’s hands bracketing her in as they took hold of the tub on either side of her.
“Why don’t you want to tell me?” He nuzzled against her neck, scattering kisses between each word.
“N-nothing, I promise!”
He hummed, teeth grazing her chin.
Rowan gasped, pushing uselessly at his shoulders. “Gavin! I thought you said you’d take care of me!”
“Is this not taking care of you?” He kissed her again, his teeth sinking into her flesh for the barest of moments before his tongue swiped over her skin, soothing the flash of pain into a dull ache.
“Gavin!”
He was chuckling, smug satisfaction dripping from his expression alongside the drops of water beading on his face and trickling down his cheeks. His knee was wedged between her thighs, his eyes dark as they swept over her. “Is this not taking care of all your needs?”
Rowan ground her teeth together. She really could have rolled her hips up, and she’d be riding his thigh. Which was certainly something that would have delighted Gavin, having her give in so quickly. He would certainly respond in kind, until they had to get out and run an entirely new bath.
For a moment Rowan’s sense seemed to fizzle out, and she considered giving in to his teasing. It would feel so good, and he would murmur sweet praises against her skin as he sank inside of her, over and over, until they were sated.
But she really did want to be held gently. She wanted to wrap herself in a blanket and curl up in his lap and fall asleep to the sound of his voice and the feel of his fingers in her hair as he played with it.
Rowan struggled to meet his eyes, her resolve shaking beneath his gaze. For his part, Gavin was still watching her raptly, still just as pleased with himself. His eyes were alight with mischief, one of his hands curling loose tendrils of her hair round and around his finger. She struggled to find her words, to argue against his teasing when her mind was so muddled from the warm steam of the bath and his nearness.
“But I want you to be gentle with me right now.” Her voice came out small, and inwardly she cursed herself for the words, knowing how easily he could spin them to his own desires.
And he did, his smile growing wider before her words had even fully formed. “I can be gentle.”
Ire made it easier to hold his gaze, and Rowan huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean, my princess?”
She puffed out her cheeks, scowling at a scuff on the floor. She knew her voice sounded whiny, and yet she couldn’t help herself as she spoke again. “Gavin, I’m sleepy. I want you to take care of me…” She went so far as to attempt to pout again, daring to meet his gaze from beneath her lashes. “I want you to baby me.”
Gavin cocked his head to the side, regarding her quietly for a few beats. The colour in his cheeks deepened, spreading down his jaw and throat and over his bare chest. His expression softened, eyes crinkling as the mischief was replaced by a gentle glow. Less like flickering stars and more like the soft light of the nightlight they had plugged in the corner of their bedroom.
Another moment passed and he began laughing, shoulders quivering as he dropped his head, burying his face in the valley of her breasts.
“Gavin?” She didn’t know what to do. He was still laughing, the sound reverberating through her like thunder pealing through the night. She hadn’t expected this kind of response at all, and she was at a complete loss as he wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her close as his laughter spilled into her veins.
He murmured something she couldn’t hear, his arms tightening as he held her closer.
“What is it?” She brushed his hair back, tucking a few longer strands behind his ear. Something had changed, shifted from earlier. He seemed more docile, holding her tenderly as though she were so delicate she would crumple if he clutched her too tightly.
He lifted his head, chin propped against her sternum as he slowly sketched his gaze over her face. It took him a long while before finally he fixed his eyes on hers, his face the powdery pink of a peony in bloom. His smile was soft as feather-down, his eyes the gold of a spoonful of sun-warmed honey. 
Her jaw was aching from how sweet he looked, her heart thrumming like the wings of a hummingbird in flight, warmth unspooling from her chest with every beat. The bliss she felt looking into his eyes was like sinking her teeth into a slice of cake drowning in sugary frosting and candies; she could taste the sweetness on her tongue, feel how her veins seemed to overflow, how her nerves seemed to buzz and spark.
Whatever he was feeling was contagious, and she knew that this overwhelming feeling of warmth and elation was fizzing through him, too. She knew that it was going to his head like bubbling wine, the rest of the world blurring into a mess of colours and sounds that could not be named. It was the only explanation for the flush of his cheeks, the starry look in his eyes.
Gavin looked like he was drunk. But it wasn’t alcohol that he was drunk on.
She drew in a sharp breath as the realization sparkled like gold emerging before her. He was drunk on her, intoxicated by her.
Rowan’s face burned, hotter than flame. It was not like this was news to her; they’d been together for years, Gavin had told her that she had his entire heart, that she was the most precious thing in his life. And yet there was something about the way he looked at her now that stole her breath, that made her heart stumble and the realization threaten to send her reeling.
He murmured a quiet “I love you,” before lowering his lips to her chest, pressing a kiss to her skin, his eyes never leaving her face.
“I love you too.” Her response was stammered, nervous. As though this were the first time she had ever told him so, and not another iridescent pearl in the string of ‘I love yous’ that would span the rest of their lives.
“You’re everything to me.”
She might have whimpered, although his touches now were chaste and soft. But it was the flood of warmth and love and the light like she was standing beneath a star blooming into existence. She was drowning in the ocean of his love, being drawn deeper by the undertow. When she breathed in, her lungs were filled with love. When she reached out towards him she felt the tingle of affection, of joy at her fingertips. When she closed her eyes she saw a cacophony of colours that most reminded her of him, of love, of wrapped in his arms.
She opened her mouth to tell him how much he meant to her, but she could not find the words. What words even were there to describe how she felt about him? How dearly she loved him? What words were good enough for him, good enough for all the ways she loved him? What words would ever be enough?
There weren’t any words; none that would truly convey how she felt, how warm her heart was, how light she felt despite the fatigue from the night before weighing on her. She was made of sunshine and spun-sugar clouds, she was made of laughter and warm hugs. His smile and his voice and his hands were the only things she needed to get through the day.
She adored him, more than words could ever say.
Rowan wasn’t sure if Gavin understood what she was feeling, how could he when she couldn’t even say it? Maybe she was more tired than she’d first thought, maybe the lack of sleep and the steam and the closeness of his body were muddling her mind and turning her thoughts to mud.
Yet Gavin was smiling wider, reaching one hand up to brush her hair back, to stroke her cheek.
“I know,” he said, his words like breath. “I know, and I feel the same.”
He kissed her again, so gentle now where he had been so needy before. There were already red marks blooming across her skin, scattering across her breasts where his teeth had marked her. He pressed his lips to each mark, tender and loving as though she were something to be worshipped, as though she were a deity and he her devoted supplicant.
“I will do anything for you, love.” He closed his eyes as he spoke, leaning against her touch as she ran a hand through his hair.
“Anything?”
He opened his eyes again, little more than golden slits as they searched for her. “Yes, anything.”
She smiled, biting the corner of her lip. “You’ll take care of me?”
“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his words earnest. “But yes, I will make sure I take care of you now that we’re done making love.” His smile turned impish then. “For now.”
She flicked him, snorting, but he was entirely unfazed, still watching her with that same adoring look on his face.
“Then I need help bathing,” she said, trying to sound as imperious as she could. He’d called her a princess, after all, and why shouldn’t she act like one?”
Gavin straightened, bringing her with him until she was practically in his lap once more. “As you wish.”
He brushed his lips to her throat, scattering a constellation of kisses over her skin as he reached for the soap. His movements were languid, relaxed, as if they had all the time in the world as he squeezed out a dollop of lavender-scented soap onto a cloth and began massaging it into her skin. And perhaps they did, although the bathwater was already growing tepid and Rowan’s fingers were pallid and wrinkled from the water.
“The water is getting kind of cold,” she muttered, watching as Gavin’s brow creased.
Clicking his tongue, he lightly splashed the water, testing it before continuing. “It’s still lukewarm, love.”
“But I wanted it hot.”
Gavin chuckled in the face of her pout, setting aside the cloth to cup her face. Bubbles from the soap streaked from his palms down his arms, foaming as they hit the water. All the while he bumped his nose against hers, softly promising that he would run a new bath for her.
“But I just want to stay like this for a minute first,” he added, lips skimming the corner of hers, his kiss light as the flutter of butterfly wings.
Rowan couldn’t refuse, her heart begging to let her be held by him for as long as he wanted. Even if the water turned to ice, she would be happy to stay with him until he was sated. Her body was melting against his, her soft curves fitting perfectly against him like a puzzle piece clicking into place, like an ingredient needed to make a sweet dough finally being folded in.
Gavin could have as many minutes as he wanted, he could have all the minutes there were left in their shared lifetimes. So long as he continued to hold her, so long as she got to stay so close, the quiet pulse of his heart thrumming through her, echoing in the hollows of her bones.
She might have fallen asleep, she wasn’t sure. It was hard not to fall asleep cradled in his arms; he was warm, his heart beating a steady rhythm like a lullaby, his breath tangling in her hair, his hands stroking her cheeks and lightly gliding over her back.
One moment she was still half-submerged in the bath, the next she was wrapped in a towel, perched on the bathroom counter as tepid water sluiced down her legs and dripped into opalescent puddles on the floor. Shivers ran down her spine, gooseflesh crawling along her arms. The world was so cold without Gavin beside her, like she were perched outside as the first frost was painted across the world.
The sound of water gurgling as it drained echoed in her ears, no doubt louder in this moment than it usually was. Rowan drummed her fingers on her thigh, tapping her heel against the cabinet door beneath the counter she sat on, impatient. It felt like an eternity passed them by as the water drained out, Gavin humming a melody she could almost place. It wriggled into her mind, burrowing deep until even that melody echoed in her ears.
The song she couldn’t name was at least preferable to the sound of the tub draining, as the last of the water finally rushed away. But then came the agonizing wait while Gavin refilled the tub, water so hot it steamed up the mirror and windows. A diaphanous fog seemed to descend over the room, a little like they were standing in the middle of a cloud.
It took maybe a total of five minutes for Gavin to drain and refill the bath, and yet to Rowan it felt like a lifetime. She huffed, and was immediately rewarded with Gavin’s attention as he turned to peek at her over his shoulder.
“What is it?”
She stuck out her bottom lip, heedless of his earlier warning. Surely now he would not think it a turn-off, but rather just his wife being morose and in need of comfort.
His cheeks were a beautiful shade of pink, reminding her of the orchids she had seen in the local flower shop only a few days before. But Gavin blushed at the tiniest things. She could link her pinky finger with his and he would blush, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he squeezed her finger in return.
He arched a brow now, smirking as he crossed his arms. “Why are you pouting?”
Rowan kicked her feet again, sounding petulant as she spoke. “It’s taking too long.”
“What’s taking too long?”
“The bath.” She kicked her feet again, her heels making a satisfying thunk sound as they smacked against the cabinet door. “It’s taking so long.”
A snort. “It’s almost done, pumpkin.”
“I miss you.” She hunched her shoulders just a little, ducking her head so he couldn’t see her face. She knew exactly what to do to garner his attention, to entice him to move closer.
“I’m right here, I’m still here with you.” His words were undercut by the sound of his footsteps as he crossed the small space separating them. His hands fell to her waist, their heat radiating across her body even through the barrier of the towel between them. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”
She flicked her eyes up, catching his from beneath the flutter of her lashes. “But you were over there, and I wanted you close.”
He sighed, wrapping his arms around her as he drew her against him. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Hold me I hope.”
He chuckled against her hair. “You know you could have just told me you wanted to be held.”
“What if you tried turning it into a sexual innuendo again?”
He peeled away to meet her gaze, feigning distress. “How could you think I would do such a thing?”
Gavin was getting better at acting, but his mouth was curling up, quivering as he fought to keep it pulled in a pout of his own.
She tapped his lips. “Your smile is giving you away.”
He chuckled, fingers wrapping around her wrist. “You caught me.”
“You’re such a dork.”
She wanted to cup his face and press kisses to his cheeks. She wanted to ruffle his hair and kiss him until he was breathless from laughing. She wanted to bite him, certain in this moment that he would taste like spun sugar and frosting.
“But I’m your dork, aren’t I?” He was looking far too smug for someone who had just been called a dork.
She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to fight against her smile as he pressed delicate kisses to the finger still hovering against his lips. “You are. You’re mine.”
“Then I’m happy to be whatever you’d like me to be.”
“Even a dork.”
He smirked. “Well I already knew I was a dork.”
“Did I make you think you weren’t mine?” She wracked her brain trying to figure out what she might have said. Was he just teasing? Had she truly hurt his feelings? And when had that happened? She’d just been practically begging for him to be closer, what had she said afterwards?
Gavin’s expression softened as he lifted her hand to kiss her wrist. “You’re thinking too hard, princess. I’ve always known I’m yours.” He shrugged then, mischief lingering in his smile. “Sometimes I just like to be reminded.”
She gaped, too stunned to move. “You were teasing me!”
He chuckled. “Guilty.”
“I can’t believe you were teasing me!” Her voice sounded shrill as she yanked her hand away from him, tucking it safely beneath the towel. “After I was so sad you weren’t close to me!”
“I’m sorry my princess.” He was laughing as he reached for her, as though he were going to draw her close to his chest once again.
Although there wasn’t far she could go, Rowan still wiggled backwards, until her back hit the mirror above the counter. The cool glass bit into her skin as she pressed her back against it, frowning at Gavin. “I don’t think you are sorry.”
It was no difficult feat for Gavin to draw her back towards him, still laughing at her mediocre attempt at an escape. “How can I prove it to you?”
“That’s a good question…” She trailed off as his lips found the curve of her jaw. She swallowed, balling up the fabric of the towel in her fists. “Gavin?”
“It’s not an innuendo, I promise.” His words tickled the skin of her throat, making her shiver.
“Then what is it?” Rowan tipped her head back on reflex, further baring the column of her neck for him.
He hummed softly, and it buzzed through her like static, reaching to the tips of her fingers and her toes. “Just me proving I love you.”
“That doesn’t prove you’re sorry!”
Brows arching high as he drew back, Gavin’s smile turned to mischief once more. “Maybe not. But it does prove I love you.”
“Kisses don’t prove you love me,” she said, her grip on her towel loosening. “Just that you like kissing me.”
The warmth of his chuckle seeped into her like the languid inch of alcohol unfurling in her veins, her skin heating so slowly she almost couldn’t tell until she was aflame. “I like kissing you because I love you.”
“How do I know?” Her shoulders trembled as his lips fell to the crook of her neck, tracing the line of her collarbone just above the edge of her towel. She snaked one hand up, cupping the back of his neck before splaying her fingers wide as she sketched the bumps and ridges of his spine. “How do I know it means you love me?”
His sigh was like the wind in the trees, rustling through the leaves and catching any before they fell, tossing them up and sending them out into the world. She felt as it scattered over her, as she was caught up in his voice, little more than a leaf or a flower petal in the wind.
“Trust me,” was his only reply, his lips trailing across her chest, his hands hovering just above her waist.
“I do trust you.”
That truly was the truth; she trusted Gavin more than she trusted anyone else in this world, more than she had ever thought was possible. For years she had believed that she would never truly be able to trust someone loved her unconditionally; there were always conditions. The ups and downs of her mental health, the myriad of health issues that plagued her, the way she had felt so aimless when her childhood dreams had fizzled out while she’d still been trying to find herself, the way her most precious hobbies would be perceived as childish and boring.
But Rowan never questioned Gavin; he was earnest, kind, not the sort of person that would lie. Gavin was gentle with her, was considerate, and he always seemed to work hard to make her feel better, make her feel happy, to remind her so often how precious she was to him. He took interest in her hobbies, he remembered her favourite things, he cuddled with her whenever she wanted to be close.
And she could feel, too, how much he wanted to be with her. As happy as he made her, she could see all the ways she made him. How soft his smiles were whenever they snuggled, how often he coaxed her into afternoon naps with him. He called her from work at lunch to tell her that he liked what she’d packed him. He was always asking to go out and do simple things together, even if all they did was run errands together and doze off on the couch while they ate take-out and rewatched one of their favourite movies. He was always looking for an excuse to hold her hand, to be close, to touch her face or play with her hair or draw her into his lap.
Of course she trusted him, how could she not? She hadn’t known it was possible to love someone so entirely, and yet her heart always seemed to grow bigger, her ribs cracking from the pressure, from all the warmth and sunshine and love that bloomed in her heart. It was in the marrow of her bones, it was in the cells that kept her stitched together.
“How could I not trust you?” She ran her knuckles over his cheek, aching for his touch, aching from how the feeling spilled through her like golden sunshine, golden champagne, like sparkles and glitter and starlight.
His smile softened, his eyes glowing, as if to say he had caught the unsaid words, that he understood what she was telling him.
She adored him, with all her heart and soul, down to her very cells, she adored him.
Gavin took her hand, leaning into her touch. “I love you, my Rowan. More than I ever thought possible. You are my moon, my stars, my entire galaxy.”
Her face burned, but she could not look away. She did not want to look away, not as his eyes shone with the light of millions of stars, an entire universe glowing in their depths.
“I love you, too.”
Her words felt small, weak in comparison to the surety of his own declaration. But they seemed to be all Gavin needed. His eyes closed, another sigh falling from his lips.
They stayed that way for a while, Gavin looking content, blissful as he nestled his cheek into her palm.
It was only the sound of water splashing onto the bathroom floor that roused him, drawing his attention to where the tub was overflowing.
“Oh shit,” he spun around, nearly slipping in the water puddling on the ground in his haste to shut the water off.
Rowan covered her mouth to stifle her giggles, although to no avail. Gavin narrowed his eyes, looking on the verge of scowling as he grabbed extra towels to sop up the water.
She kicked her feet again, still failing to smother her laughter. “I’m sorry for distracting you, babey.”
He sighed, pushing his bangs out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. “You don’t need to apologize. I should have been paying more attention.”
“Do you want me to help?”
He shook his head, opening his mouth to respond. He shut it just as quickly, his eyes suddenly glittering as they fixed on her.
She frowned. “What is it?”
“Maybe there is something you can do to atone for your crimes.” His grin was bordering on wicked, and despite the warmth from the steam rising from the bath, Rowan shivered.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say I committed a crime,” she mumbled, shrinking beneath his gaze.
“I would.” He was teasing her again, suddenly far too delighted in their current predicament. “And as an officer of the law, I would know best.”
She hummed, clutching at her towel as he moved closer. “Maybe you’re just abusing your power to get your way.”
He cocked his head to the side, reminding her of a predator. “I would never dream of doing such a thing.”
“Then why are you saying I’ve committed a crime! I’m innocent!”
He leaned close, his fingers toying with the corners of her towel. “For distracting me.”
“You just said it wasn’t my fault!”
“No, I said you didn’t need to apologize.” He was grinning so wide now, having far too much fun. “And now you’re obstructing justice.”
She gaped, feigning outrage. “You have no proof!”
He kissed the corner of her lips, humming. “I’m going to have to place you under arrest.”
“And what does that entail, officer?”
“For starters…” Rowan yelped as Gavin suddenly yanked her towel away, tossing it to the side. “This has to go.”
“Gavin,” she gasped, wrapping her arms around her torso.
She didn’t get much of a chance to argue any further as he scooped her into his arms, carrying her towards the bath.
“I’ll have to keep a close eye on you,” he continued, smiling against her hair. “You’re under house arrest until further notice.”
She snorted, giving him a halfhearted smack. “You carry criminals around now? And watch them while they’re under house arrest.”
He nodded, far too much delight in his expression to even pretend at being more somber. “Only for the most serious of violations.”
“And how long will this last?”
He hummed, considering her words as he settled her into the tub, water sloshing from the edge as it was redistributed around her weight. “A while.”
“And how long is a while?” She scooted forward, making room as he climbed in behind her. “That’s not a very precise measurement.”
“Well let’s see…” He trailed off as he drew her between his legs, her back pressing against his chest. “How about until we know if you’re pregnant.”
Heat instantly shot through her, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the bath. Her heartbeat felt more like butterfly wing-beats in a storm, frantic and small and feeble against the force of a hurricane.
In her silence Gavin scattered kisses over the back of her neck, his hands sliding around her torso, one hand splaying over her belly. As if to protect the child that might already be growing there.
She was caught in a daze, one hand pressed to her chest as she tried to calm her heart, as the thought of having a baby swarmed her mind.
At least until his teeth bit into her skin, snapping her from her reverie.
“Gavin!” She tried to twist around to pinch him, but he was too fast, laughing as he grabbed hold of her hands.
“Gavin! Bai!” She squirmed, scowling as he only laughed harder.
“Yes, princess?”
She clicked her tongue, looking away.
“Don’t be like that, princess.” He dropped her hands, his voice turning breathy as he held her tighter. “I was just teasing you a little.”
“All you’ve been doing is teasing me!”
“I just love the colour your face turns when I do,” he murmured, kissing the spot behind her ear. “It’s my favourite shade of pink.”
She was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Gavin continued to chuckle, seeming content to drop kisses to her neck and shoulders, seeming to have forgotten entirely about the whole bathing part of a bath.
Finally, she gathered her courage, although her voice wavered as she said his name. “Gavin?”
He paused his gentle ministrations. “What is it, pumpkin?”
“Do you think it worked?” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Like… Do you think we actually made a baby?”
He hummed, stroking the curve of her hip. “Well if we did I’ll take extra good care of you. I’ll help you pick out new clothes, I’ll buy you any food you want, I’ll take extra time off to take care of you.”
A small smile played at her lips, and she reached for his hand, threading their fingers together. She could see it so clearly, how Gavin would dote on her while they child grew. How gentle and loving he would be, how he would run out to purchase every book he could on taking care of his pregnant wife and how to be a parent.
Despite that though, that marvellous daydream that warmed her like sunshine, there was a dull, hollow ache in her heart that stained the edges of that shimmering image conjured in her mind.
“You’re so hopeful.” She ran her fingers over the curves of his knuckles, gently pressed her thumbs into his palm, massaging it as she tried to find the right words. “You’re so hopeful this worked. But what if it didn’t? What if I’m not pregnant?”
“Oh, my love.” He drew his hands away to turn her around, his eyes searching hers. “Do you want to have a baby?”
She nodded furiously, her throat tight. “I do, I do want to have a baby with you.”
He cupped her face, stroking her cheek gently. “Then if it doesn’t work this time, we’ll just try again.”
“You mean it?” Hope flared, bright as a newborn star.
Gavin chuckled, bringing his face close, their brows bumping together. “Of course I mean it. Did you think I was joking about going on that vacation?”
“Well…” She trailed off, pointedly staring at not him. “I might have thought you were joking a little. A heat-of-the-moment type thing.”
“I wasn’t,” he murmured, kissing her nose. “If there’s no baby this time, we’ll just try again. Here if you want, or we can go somewhere else if you want, too. We can take a vacation and try…” He trailed off, his smile impish.
Rowan supposed his teasing smile was to be expected. He was suggesting they take a holiday to have sex. Even if the sex did have a purpose.
“You could relax, and we could do some other things too.” His smile softened again. “We could spend time together without worrying about work.”
“That would be nice,” she admitted. “I would like that.”
“Okay,” his voice was hushed, soft as feather-down as he pressed his lips to the space between her brows. “Why don’t we take a look? We can go wherever you want.”
She ducked her head, smiling. She curled her hands against his chest, leaning against him. “You won’t be upset if there’s no baby this time?”
“How could I?” He rubbed her back, leaning his head against hers. “We can always try again. And no matter how long it takes, I’m sure it will be worth it.”
Warmth bubbled in her chest, growing brighter with every stroke of his hand along her back. “You really mean that?”
“Of course I do. I can’t think of anything more precious than our baby.” He paused, nuzzling his face against her neck, kissing her endlessly until she giggled. “Except of course you, my wonderful wife.”
Rowan batted him away, snorting as she tried to regain her composure. But it melted away again when she looked up and met his eyes. They were soft, their golden depths reminding her of sun-warmed honey, of sweet things, of spring sunshine.
“Don’t forget yourself,” she said, taking his hands and pressing her lips to his fingers. “You’re most precious to me. There wouldn’t be a beautiful baby without you.”
Colour stained his cheeks and he dropped his head, eyes squeezing shut as he sighed.
“Do you want me to say it again?” She splashed him, giggling as he opened his eyes once more, smirking at her. “That I love you? That you’re my most precious person?”
His smile was still tender, still sweet. “And if I do?”
“Then I’ll tell you as many times as you want to hear it.” She cupped his face this time, bringing it close to hers. “I love you, Gavin. You are so precious to me, so beloved. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
She kissed his lips, just once, hoping the chasteness of the touch drove him as mad as all his innocent little kisses drove her to insanity. “There’s no one else in this entire world I want to have a baby with aside from you.”
He chuckled, covering her hands with his. She could have sworn there was silver limning his eyes, but he closed them before she could tell for certain. And when he opened them again they were blazing gold, twin stars lighting up her world.
“I love you.”
She smiled. “Say it again?”
He kissed her this time, tongue swiping across the seam of her lips, slipping into her mouth to find hers. “I love you.”
They could have stayed tangled like that forever, but there was the pressing issue of the near-boiling water slowly beginning to cool once more. They embraced until their skin was red as boiled lobsters, and then Gavin gently turned her back around, reaching for the soap.
“Before anything else, we should get you bathed.” He shook out the shower gel onto a new cloth, dunking it in the water before taking her arm and gliding it across her skin. “Baby or no, you’ll need your rest today.”
“Promise to stay with me today?”
She felt his smile against the back of her neck. “I called in for today. There’s only paperwork for me anyways, and that can wait a day.”
They chatted for a while, and Rowan began to doze in his arms as he washed away the sweat from the night before. She could hear the warm tenor of his laughter in the back of her mind, his murmurs as he told her he was going to rinse her hair next, could she lean back please?
“Come on, my sleeping beauty.” There was a note of teasing in his voice, but she was so comfortable, so happy to be in his arms that she just nestled closer.
Cool air brushed against her, chills racing down her skin as water fell away from her like she was the cliff of a waterfall.
Gavin continued to murmur quietly, helping her to dry off, to get changed into something comfy. And then he was carrying her down the stairs, settling her on the couch and tucking blankets around her before disappearing to grab the takeout that had been delivered.
And all the while she smiled, glowing with starlight as she daydreamed of mornings with him just like this, nights just like the one before. Days spent together in bliss. And then perhaps one day their mornings and nights would change. But still they would find sweet, blissful moments. Except maybe they would be changed too, and they would be sharing them with a little red-cheeked baby. A baby with his eyes and her laugh.
She held her arms out to him as he returned, and Gavin let himself be folded into her embrace, his head cradled against her chest. Rowan told him about her dream as she ran her fingers through his hair, telling him of the little baby they could share. And as she spoke she watched as his smile bloomed across his face, watched as his eyes glazed, as he imagined it too. Imagined days where their little family would grow, and all their happiness that would grow with it.
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pinkhairedlily · 2 years
Text
Tsunade neither taught or imparted this information. She didn't need to. Sakura started with an inkling until it fully developed into a secret knowledge.
The ability to know the full medical history of a patient in one scan — the memories from each scar, and the emotions felt at each moment.
She dreaded this when it was Sasuke's turn. Tsunade gave her free rein to run diagnostics on her team after the war. Sakura had to steel herself. After all, she IS a doctor. She is wired to keep her empathy and personal feelings at bay when it comes to the people close to her. So she turns off that certain circuit in her mind, the one that reminds her of the spectrum of feelings she has for this once avenger, the prodigal prodigy, and a man on redemption.
She recognizes little of his battle scars. Bigger and deeper ones have replaced the superficial layers when they were genin. She recognizes the slight pangs of pains from the realization that she might not know him anymore, but she actively ignores these.
Her lengthy pause over his lone wrist makes him look up in a furrow. "What's wrong?"
"You've been tracing circles on this part of your skin," she tells him, "Over and over. Your fingers have made marks."
"It's nothing." He turns his face away from her. "It's not a wound so it doesn't hurt."
"You've been tracing the same pattern over the years. The slopes on your wrist shows it."
"Any more findings?" Sakura notes his insistence to shift away from the topic, but she's a doctor. She has an excuse to prod.
"Were you tracing your family crest?" She waits for him to burst and coldly dismiss her, but it's his loosely veiled indifference that catches her.
She starts to move her hands to another part of his body, complying with his silence.
"It's your crest. It was the last thing I saw before I left Konoha," he relays the truth to her matter-of-factly as if he's stating mission provisions. "You showed me I had a choice. To stay."
Sakura struggles to think straight. "It's probably your coping mechanism. The pattern is familiar, a routine. Soldiers do that to keep their focus and stay calm." She's not sure if she's saying this for him or for herself. It's best to rationalize these pronouncements. She knew better. She should know better.
"I kept doing it every night until I forgot what it meant. Now I remember." His charcoal eyes find her again, and it's her who refuses to meet his gaze.
His memories drown her — pangs of regret, sharp guilt, the numbing sadness, nostalgic warmth, and yearning.
On the center of her vision is his quickening pulse and veins that attempt to feel the pattern. The pattern he could no longer make with his lost arm. "It reminds me of home."
Those words disengages all her switches, and Sakura is unprepared for the wave of emotions breaking on the walls of her heart. He went on a journey away from them, without her, and yet in his map of scars, she exists.
"And it reminds me of you," he adds under his breath.
Sakura pretends not to hear. Pretends not to know what it really means. Pretends not to recognize the plummeting feel and the abandoned flutter in her stomach. She's falling. Again. Even though she already did. Even though she still does.
She's falling, and he's saying he's gonna catch her this time.
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comiicii · 2 years
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Gotham Tales II
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part i | masterlist
Backdrop: You and Bruce have been friends since childhood. You are both heirs to your families' legacies. As years passed, things between you and Bruce changed and became strained. Takes place a year before the events in the film but takes elements that were established from before the film. Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Batman (R. Pattinson) x fem!reader Warnings: none that i can recall. some grammar errors, probably. A's Notes: here is a direct sequel to the first part of Gotham Tales! thank you for the support! i apologize for this taking so long to post. i also apologize if this doesn't meet your expectations. please like and reblog as well as give me some feedback or whatever comment you want. this was heavily inspired by two songs; 'haunted' by maty noyes and ‘for us’ by osman. Word count: 2.6k
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“The Prince of Gotham finally comes out of hiding,” Carmine sings as his hand on your waist tightened, an indication that he was enjoying this. You and Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s royalty ripe for manipulation. “I’m assuming it took some convincing from Princess over here, hm?” he continued without missing a beat.
“Carmine, Bruce and I were just catching up.” you eyed Carmine with what looked like a refined anger; it was evident that you were unhappy and usually you were careful of not letting your emotions get the best of you.
You didn’t like what would come of their interaction. It scared you that Falcone would use Bruce in a way that would hurt him. You couldn’t care less about what Falcone did with you but when it came to Bruce, you wanted to keep him as far away as possible from your world that involved Falcone. Not only did you not want Bruce to know of the relationship you had with Falcone, you simply didn’t want your friend to look at you differently. Bruce assumed the worst in people since he lost his parents. It wouldn’t surprise you if he did the same with you if he were to ever find out about the world you struggled to keep at bay.
The look you gave to Falcone was the first time in a year that Bruce saw anger within you. He had seen you angry before, especially at him, but this was different. You were protective but also scared. You were hiding something and it was his intention to find out what it was.
“Beautiful, mind joining me for a dance?” Carmine asked, his hand on your body already guiding you away from the man you were protecting and quite frankly, he liked seeing you be protective. It was cute. Bruce looked on as he took another sip of his drink, prepared to follow your every move like a hawk.
“That was real cute, protecting the little prince from me.” he started as he held your frame close to his. One hand on the small of your back while the other delicately held your hand. It took all the restraint you had to not slap him in front of all your guests. Most probably were waiting to see you explode while some just wanted to see Falcone be humiliated by you. Guess you’d be disappointing everyone tonight.
“Carmine, leave him out of this,” you softly pleaded. “please.” Being soft was a safer route than being crass with him. You were stroking his ego; begging him to spare your friend. “He knows nothing and I’d like to keep it that way. He’ll never hear a word from me about what we have going on.” you continued, pressing your body closer to his as you danced. Letting him feel you against him. Your phrasing intentional, of course. If you played into whatever image he had of the two of you, he would back down. Playing that doe-eyed damsel is what usually got him to do what you wanted. He scoffed with a smirk. He knew what you were doing and on the contrary, he loved it.
“Look at you, thinking I’ll do whatever you say,” he chuckled as his hand on your back ever so slightly slid further down, just taunting to hold you where it would be humiliating to you; metaphorically and physically. “As ravishing as you are in that dress—and you are quite the beauty every time I see you, doll— you can’t tell me what to do. If I want to mess with your little prince, I will. If I have to remind you who’s in charge between the two of us, I will.” his hand squeezed yours; not gently like he usually did. It was harsh and even if no one was paying attention, he made it crystal clear. The image of the two of you being the definition of how this man held the power over you. He owned you and if he had to be a little rough with you to make it easy for you to understand that, then so be it. It was humiliation at its finest and while you were the object of his affections, it was a reminder that you were not in control. He was the one who called the shots and you were to follow even if it seemed like he let you do what you wanted. In the end, your money was mixed with his. It was tainted and everything you did would be tainted if you barked back at Falcone.
Bruce could see the discomfort and fear that shone in your eyes. The extravagant chandelier hanging above highlighting it for him (and everyone else who was looking at you both) to see. He could see the tears starting to form in your eyes. Whatever you were going to tell him before, he knew had to do with Falcone. Your facade of comfort fading and fear setting in.
“Mr. Falcone,” a gruff voice interrupted the humiliation, “We have to leave.” It was the Penguin, Oswald Cobblepot. You didn’t have many encounters with him, only a few from your visits to the Iceberg Lounge when Falcone requested your presence. Oz never spoke to you coldly, always with respect. You didn’t know if that was because of his genuine fondness of you or if Falcone told him to never speak to you rudely. You’d never know the truth but his interruption made him your lifesaver. The look of fear and pain in your eyes enough for him to feel an inkling of pity for you, Gotham’s Princess.
Carmine nodded at Oz, whispering to him to wait outside. He walked you back towards Bruce, his arm back around your waist as you intertwined your arm in his, giving you time to compose yourself.
“Beautiful, sorry that I have to leave so soon. I’ll see you around.” You swallowed your fear as the two of you were in front of Bruce. He brought your hand to his lips, a soft peck grazing your knuckles as he smiled and turned to Bruce, “Mr. Wayne, mind keeping her company for me for the rest of the night?” Bruce nodded, a cue for him to leave. “Have a good night, sweetheart.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your hand found Bruce’s and the nausea you felt subsided. What was supposed to be a peaceful night turned into one of the worst.
“Are you alright?” Bruce broke the silence once he noticed you were calm again.
“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Wayne, can I get a picture?” John, the paparazzo from the other day chimed in before you could respond. You put forth your best smile and adjusted your body against Bruce’s; your front angled against his torso as his hand found its place along your waist. For the first time that night, you enjoyed having a man’s hand on you. Bruce mustered whatever smile he could. It wasn’t as radiant as yours but still made him look handsome.
“Wow, first time you guys have been photographed in God knows how long.” John sighed with content as he looked at the picture that would surely make headlines tomorrow. To him, it looked natural. It had been years since the two of you were photographed. The last time the two of you were photographed was when Thomas Wayne was running for mayor. He and Martha were seated on their patio next to your parents, both couples content with the scene before them; Bruce and you running around the spacious backyard. You were playing a princess and Bruce was the brave knight who had just slayed the dragon holding you captive. The headline for that picture was related to Thomas and his campaign but the main focus were the two of you. You two were thought of as the future of Gotham. The children that would carry the legacy of both your families. You and Bruce were thought to be destined for each other. Destined to carry the Wayne and Y/L/N legacies. Together. There were plenty of other pictures of the two of you afterwards but after Thomas and Martha’s murders. This photograph made it look as if you were carved for each other’s bodies; you, the radiant beauty of the city and Bruce, the reserved but handsome Prince of Gotham. John thanked you both and made his way to the bar.
Bruce’s hand remained on your waist as your head rested on his shoulder, breathing in his scent as a way to ground yourself. He didn’t say anything, his thumb rubbing against the soft fabric of your dress in a soothing motion. You didn’t want the moment to end. You wanted to stay where you were. Reality was that you couldn’t escape the dread that was in the pit of your stomach. That feeling was going to stay there for as long as you were to be in the situation.
“Bruce,” you whispered, not moving your head, “take me home, please.”
Without pause, Bruce found your hand and led you out of your own gala. You were sure the press was going to widely speculate about the nature of your departure with him. Maybe, for once, you’d enjoy reading about it.
Bruce took you home and without much thought, you invited him inside. Your manor was grand and you managed to maintain the estate with the exception of stacks of paperwork littering the main dining table. You were like your father, an organized mess when it came to paperwork. It made Bruce smile because despite being seemingly perfect, you had a flaw.
“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess at the moment, haven’t had the time to clean up for company.” You sheepishly apologized as you shed your coat from your shoulders. You hadn’t realized Bruce was behind you until you turned around and bumped your chest with his with a slight ‘oof’. His demeanor had returned to its usual neutral but rigid state. He never knew when to let something go. So stubborn you thought. You knew what he was thinking with the look he had on his face.
“It’s nothing to worry about, Bruce,” you sighed as you looked at him with sincerity despite the words leaving your lips being utter lies. Your fear for him was sincere. You walked past him to the small bar where all your liquor was displayed, pouring yourself a glass of rum.
Bruce didn’t ease in his suspicion of you hiding the truth from him. It wasn’t something that you often did or maybe he just didn’t notice. After all, you had this hold on him that he couldn’t quite explain. There was something that lingered in your eyes after Falcone left and while you insisted it was nothing, your eyes betrayed your lie. You didn’t want him to know the line you were constantly trying to avoid crossing.
“Remember how we used to play hide and seek when our fathers were holding some sort of meeting?” you attempted changing the subject with a sip of your glass, your back still to him. God, you’d be dehydrated tomorrow morning. A small smile spread across your lips at the vast memories of the two men conversing at the table. It was always business when the two spoke and you were running around in the background with Bruce. You missed the warmth of your childhood. The only warmth you were getting in return was from the alcohol numbing your fear.
“Why do you keep deflecting?” he finally spoke as he eyed the back of your dress. As much as he wanted to know the truth, some thoughts that littered his brain tonight were simply about you and that dress. More specifically, you without that dress. Each passing moment that you spent in his presence, the thoughts that he’d suppressed were crawling their way to the forefront. Edging him to throw whatever was his mission with you out the window and indulge himself with you if you wanted to do the same. His physical want for you and his stubbornness to figure out what you were hiding from him were causing a raging battle within himself.
He knew you were avoiding his gaze. You were close to spilling whatever it was that was haunting your subconscious. He knew that you wanted to tell him but just couldn’t bring yourself to do so due to the fear instilled within you. Bruce knew that it had to be serious if you were in such a state. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, for sure. You always knew how to act, react and say no matter the circumstances but with Falcone, it seemed like you weren’t sure what to do. It was the first time he’d seen fear within you. You were born in Gotham, by definition born tough. You’d fiercely defended your family (and his) through the years with the growing wage gap and drug epidemic. You were practically the spokesperson for Bruce for the last decade or so since he didn’t speak publicly. You had taken on that mantle. He just wanted to help you. From following you through the media and whatever Alfred said to him, you were so strong and taking on the world. He regretted the way the two of you ended the conversation the previous year. It gutted him to see you struggling. He didn’t want to lose you like he did his parents. He didn’t want to have a front row seat to your death due to your campaign to help this city you two called home.
“Please, Y/N…” his voice so soft and pleading for you to just spill everything and let him in. His feet padding across your marble floors until his body was just inches away from your back. You could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. You turned around with eyes glossy from the alcohol combined with tears of the utter fear that still coursed through you at the thought of Carmine Falcone hurting him. Maybe it was the alcohol heightening every emotion and making you want to spill your secrets.
“Falcone…” you started, trying to steady your breathing as it felt like you had forgotten how to breathe on your own. “I’m so scared, Bruce,” you shakily admitted.
“What’s he done to you?” he softly questioned, a hand coming to hold your hip while his other gently wiped the tears that had started to fall. “Please, Y/N…tell me.” Bruce didn’t often show his vulnerable side. It was rare to see him show emotions aside from anger and disgust. He kept his emotions in check with everyone. Well, everyone except you and Alfred. You were the only two who saw his varying emotions. It was absolutely killing him to the point of tears. Seeing the pain on his face only made the conflict rage on.
Telling him would risk his life. Despite being the Batman. There was no guarantee that he would survive the men that guarded the biggest mob boss in Gotham. But in not telling him, you risk your own life and the risk of your family name being torn down by Falcone. There was nothing that guaranteed you and Bruce would get away scratch-free. The risks were too high to do either one. Whether it was the alcohol or your nerves being fried from being on edge earlier, your brain didn’t have time to stop the words that spilled from your lips.
“Kiss me.”
a's taglist: i'm sorry if you were unable to be tagged!@strawberriebabbles @summerkate @pcyshi @anescapistreality @nicklet94 @nowayhomerry @1-imaginary-girl
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pookiecowpoke · 1 year
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Hello! Dunno if you still take rarepair requests but Im craaaaving for David x Ace romantic fluff fanfic, been suffering for all these years..i cant take it anymore. If you could make the omega verse one id be the happiest person alive :) And ill tip for your work and time of course <3
Ace High
Pairing: Ace Visconti/David King
Fandom: Dead by Daylight
Rating: Gen
Tags: Fluff, Omegaverse, scenting, marking, cuddling, poker
Word count: More than 1200
Comments: This is my first omegaverse fic… so I apologize if somethings aren’t the typical alpha/omega dynamic. It’s not really my thing to read, but I’m always willing to try new things :) And I don’t know if this qualifies as romance… but I tried. I hope you enjoy you lovely person!
It was cold. Even this close to the campfire the fog sent a chill into Ace’s hunched over figure. He was the only one present, most other survivors either in a trial or wandering into the fog to pass the time by. It was these lonely times that Ace hated the most. Away from his alpha’s warmth and struggling to not fidget. David hadn’t even been able to give him a goodbye kiss before he was whisked away by the Entity. 
A few moments ago Ace had felt a spike of pain cutting through his chest, he keeled over and held his chest, knowing that David had been hooked, but the pain ebbed away as quickly as it came on. As time had progressed between their relationship they had both been able to feel each other’s pain and hints of their sharp emotions. 
To keep his nerves at bay, he took to shuffling his deck of cards, fingers going numb at this point. He wasn’t sure how he had gotten the cards in the first place. The almighty Entity could be gracious at times, and he assumed when he found the deck in his pants’ pocket he had earned them somehow. 
Feeling the worn paper between his calloused fingertips usually calmed his nerves, but tonight it only made him more antsy. The mark on his neck itched something fierce, like an underlying rash that only his alpha could sooth. 
With an eyeroll and groan, Ace hung his head and let his cards flutter to the forest floor. Why did the Entity see fit to torture him? Didn’t they get enough torture and pain in the trials? 
Ace grumbled as he picked up his deck of cards and shoved them into his pocket, staring into the flames of the campfire as it licked over the ever burning logs. When Ace had first woken up in this hell hole he wondered how the logs never needed to be replaced, how the fire never dampened. It was just one of those unexplainable things. 
Ace sighed and kicked a clump of dirt into the campfire, watching it hiss before coming back full force. He wished David would hurry up in his trial so they could cuddle by the campfire already. 
As if the Entity answered his prayers, he heard multiple footsteps emerge from the fog, the crunching of leaves following. Ace whipped around to watch four people approach the fire. Dwight stumbled up to the fire followed by Meg and Jake, but Ace’s attention was on David’s imposing figure. 
David’s face lit up upon spotting Ace by the fire. Ace put a coy smile on his face even if his heart leapt into his throat and stomach filled with butterflies. 
“Took ya long enough, David,” Ace scoffed and scratched at his jaw line. 
David rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, staring down at his omega. His stare made Ace squirm and bite his lower lip, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I can’t leave ya anywhere can I?” David snickered before dipping down and bodily scooping Ace up. 
Ace felt like he was on cloud nine as David nuzzled into Ace’s neck to kiss at the mark on his neck. Curling his arms around David’s solid neck, Ace greedily inhaled David’s scent, sating his loneliness. David always smelled salty with sweat but with hints of beer and cedarwood. It made Ace shiver, especially by being cradled in his large arms. The contact of their bodies drew the chill from his body and made him feel warm and safe like nothing could harm him.
After David sat down, he perched Ace on his lap and settled his chin on his shoulder, humming a tune unknown to Ace. Must have been some British pub song or something. His large hand reached up to pull Ace’s hat off so he could graze his fingers through his graying hair. Ace leaned up into the petting, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss.
The calming aura surrounding them lasted until Ace huffed and turned to give David a pout. “Do you want to play a game of cards?”
David quirked an eyebrow. “What isn’t my presence enough for ya, ya li’l bastard?” Ace knew he was teasing by the warm smirk curled on his lips but it still made his heart thump unplesanatly. David sighed and cupped Ace’s jaw, fingernail scratching at his facial hair. “Ya promise not to cheat again?” 
Ace lit up and leaned in to press his forehead against David’s. “Ah, I can’t prommmise, but I can say I won’t.”
David chuckled and patted Ace’s flank. “Alright, I’ll play with ya, but if ya fockin’ cheat-”
“Ya won’t do shit, my Alpha.” Ace chuffed and slid off his lap to sit beside him so he could deal the cards. 
“Hmph, we’ll see about that.” 
Throughout the few rounds of Texas Hold ‘Em, a few more people had returned to the fire, but Ace was purely focused on his alpha and the cards in his hand. He almost got distracted from his goal of winning when David ran a hand over his shin and thumbed at Ace’s ring, but he held strong in the end. 
David threw his cards down after losing several rounds in a row, only to find out Ace had been counting cards and had two aces up his sleeve the entire time. David cupped Ace’s face between his large scarred hands and attacked his nose and cheeks with kisses. 
“Is this my punishment? Because it doesn’t feel like much of a punishment.” Ace chuckled between kisses, his fingers curling around David’s forearms brushing over the dusting of hair. 
David pressed his forehead to Ace’s, his dark eyes peering into Ace’s sunglasses before he reached up to flick them off. “Nah, I don’t think it’s a punishment, love.”
Ace’s heart swelled with joy at the simple petname, but his tongue lashed out for him. “You can be so sappy, David.” He pressed his lips to David’s scarred nose. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
“Me, the sappy one?” David barked a laugh before burying his nose in Ace’s neck teasing at the tanned skin. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”
“When you find a mirror in this shit hole tell me.” Ace carded through David’s hair before pressing his cheek to the top of his head, taking short sniffs of his hair. 
David hummed, the vibration in his throat rumbling into Ace’s body. “I’ll be sure to let ya know.” 
After Ace collected his cards and put them away, they shifted positions until David was seated on the ground, his back leaning against the log and Ace curled up against his side. David’s heavy, blanketing arm was slung over his shoulder keeping him warm, and Ace’s own arm was flung over David’s stomach. 
Ace’s eyes drifted shut as he listened to David’s powerful thumping heart, the way his chest vibrated when he quipped to one of the other survivors’ statements. It was peaceful, until he opened his eyes and the warmth of his mate was gone. He was alone, no campfire in sight and the dark, linoleum hallways of the Doctor’s institute setting a coldness in Ace’s gut. 
“Ugh, fuck you, Entity…”
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You have some of the best fics I’ve ever read! May I ask for a Steve/Bucky fic? Maybe Steve has a head cold, and him not one to be dramatic, attempts to hide it until his emotional dam breaks, causing him to just break down because he feels so damn ill and just can’t get any reprieve between sneezing and coughing fits.
omg hell yeah!! thank you so much for the compliment — i've been really struggling w writer's block as of late. anywayyyyy here's the request >:)
also i just realized this isn't even a fic and more of a glorified drabble, but i really hope you still like it
distant | weed | fuss | struggle | couple | professional | remember | nap | abundant | objective | wrong | discreet | gift | stay | collapse | cabin | practical | defend | haunt | indoor | rhythm | ankle | incentive | healthy | steam | anger | bond | text | correction | visible | guess | cinema | maze | contrary | observer | nuance | neglect | lip | reflection | sniff | authority | illusion | echo | medicine | lace | insurance | knit | dealer | grudge | affair | sofa | expertise | passion | spill | laundry | exposure | shelter | privilege | manner | relax | compromise | sacred | doubt | philosophy | thaw | ticket | bike | bench | vain | bed | improvement | pier | gravity | immune | vigorous | productive | reception | veil | bee | train | harsh | loyalty | fresh | late | mind | highway | sound | frozen | annual | soup | instinct | groan | lonely | spite | bill | crude | dare | magazine | mess | ignore | sketch | flush | liability | camp | brag | sour | compensation
***
prompt(s): collapse
***
Steve hated being sick. All it did was remind him of his childhood.
He sniffled miserably, quickly rubbing his nose with his knuckles.
“Hey, ready to go?” Bucky was leaning on their bedroom doorframe, grinning. “It’s not every day we get to go on a date, hmm?”
Steve smiled softly. “I don’t know if taking a walk by the harbor is considered a date, but yeah, I’m ready.”
He felt the familiar itch in the back of his sinuses and sniffed, trying to keep it at bay. Bucky didn’t know that Steve was coming down with something, but Steve had a sneaking suspicion that he was on the path to figuring it out.
***
They walked side by side, watching the men unload cargo from the biggest ships Steve had ever seen. They sure didn’t have these when he was growing up.
Without warning, Steve’s nostrils flared and he barely had time to catch it in his cupped hands.
“Hih’TSHHH!”
“Bless you,” Bucky said as they walked along.
Steve blinked back tears, ready to blame them on the biting cold wind coming off the water. The incessant tickling in his sinuses was making his eyes water.
“G-got one m-more,” he choked out before diving into his jacket sleeve. “H-hehh... Hah’ESCHHH!”
Steve’s nose started to run and he began to feel dizzy. He shook his head as if to clear it. Sniffling, he not-so-discreetly wiped his nose on his sleeve.
“Feeling OK?”
Steve forced a laugh. “Of course. Just a little winded from sneezing I guess.”
This time it was Bucky’s turn to laugh. “Winded? Since when have you been winded as Cap?”
Steve started to answer, but before he could get anything out, his nostrils were flaring again.
“Bless—”
“Ahh... h-haH! Hah’ESCHHHOO! Hh'NNNGT!”
He tried to hold the last one in, but as soon as he did, he regretted it.
Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “You OK? You look a little pale.”
No sooner than the words had left his lips, Steve felt a wave of heat wash over him, and his vision went black.
Bucky caught him as his knees buckled, and Steve collapsed into his arms.
***
By the time Steve was waking up, Bucky had already taken off his own jacket to give to Steve.
“We’re going home,” Bucky said matter-of-factly, almost annoyed. “You have a fever you know.”
Steve squinted, breath caught.
“Bless y—”
“Nn’TSHHHH! H-hah’PSSSHHHF!”
The last one was very poorly stifled. Bucky pressed his handkerchief into Steve’s shaking hands.
“You need to tell me when you’re not feeling well, OK?”
Steve nodded, scrubbing his irritated nose with the cloth.
Bucky placed his hand on Steve's lower back to steady him. “We’re going home. And hold onto that handkerchief for me, would you?”
His lip curled into a snarl and all Bucky could do was watch. “G-gotta sd-sdeeze,” he choked out, burying his twitching nose in the cloth. “Ehh... h-hiH! TSHHHH! A-ah'SHHHHP!”
“Man. That’s one hell of a cold you got. And for god’s sake, let those sneezes out.”
***
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ask me about my commissions!!
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@mcmorysearching​​​​​ inquired: ❝ just let me help you! ❞ from Oda to Lia
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Help Prompts—No Longer Accepting
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She was being pushed to her limit with this, the usual quiet and emotionless woman feeling anger boil to the surface as she balled her hands into fists to keep the emotions at bay. Anger, hurt, loneliness, a hurricane of emotions when Lia usually felt practically nothing. She hated feeling this way. As sad as it was, things were easier before he came back from the dead. The grief of losing him had gotten better over the years as she took care of Sakura. She did all that she could to remain floating in this raging sea that was life, but having Sakunosuke back with her sent the woman under the waves once more. With all of the struggle, when he raised his voice, she spun on her heel and yelled back.
“I don’t need your help!!” Her voice was always so quiet, the woman usually favoring not to speak at all unless necessary. Having her raise her voice was uncharacteristic. This was why she preferred not feeling anything, so she wouldn’t lash out like this. And she didn’t mean what she was saying—she really did want his help. Lia knew her words weren’t true, yet she couldn’t seem to stop them from coming. At least Sakura was at daycare and wouldn’t hear her raising her voice like this.
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“I didn’t need your help before, and I don’t need it now!! You were gone for four fucking years.!! I thought you were dead!! We all did..!! So I did everything myself, dealing with my dead father and taking care of Sakura while trying to push down the loneliness I felt.!! You could have come to me, let me know you were alright, but you let me think you were dead for four goddamn years!! That’s how you could have helped, by coming back to me and making me feel like I’m not all alone.!!” Her words stopped coming and she noticed a wetness upon her cheeks; gingerly did she reach up to touch the condensation, only to realize it was her own tears. She didn’t even know she was crying… Her brows furrowed as she looked away. “I already needed your help…and you were gone.” Her heart still hasn’t healed from that loss.
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