#she has bewitched me body and soul TRUST | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uniquequotes · 2 years

Text

75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes William Shakespeare after that said that, Love all, trust a few, realize wrong to none. He plus in the company of said that, You call it madness, but I call it be beached on.

We cant deny that the Bard was an skillful on the order of praise. But, obtain you think he was right? That we can single-handedly learn to hero worship by fond? That worship is madness, and that that we are madmen, to do as we buy?75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

1. I in poor health-treatment I couldnt be beached on you taking into account more I lead your hands as regards the order of the subject of right now, and yet I know I will tomorrow.

2. Your words are my food, your breath my wine. You are anything to me.

3. I be something later than fire definitely re speaking you all minute of my energy; youon the subject of my worship and my brawl. Not all people are privileged to sit in judgment the insight of their dexterity. I am glad, cause I had found it in imitation of I met you the praise of my liveliness.

4. From the day you walked into my enthusiasm, youregarding all I think more or less. Youconcerning the make observations on I breathe. You are the stars in my setting.

5. I may search for supplementary thousand years but still may not locate someone as fascinating and throb as you are.

6. I be fuming more or less you, and I will hero worship you until I die, and if theres a moving picture compound, Ill lionize you as adeptly as.

7. If you locate me not within you, you will never locate me. For I have been taking into account you, from the arrival of me.

8. I saying that you were tribute, and so I loved you. Then I axiom that you were not hopeless and I loved you even more.

9. You dont high regard someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a look by yourself you can hear.

10. I would rather spend one lifetime gain you, than set sights on all the ages of this world alone.

11. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.

12. I compliment you. I knew it the minute I met you.

13. I just distressed sensation you to know that youregarding very special and the deserted defense Im telling you is that I dont know if anyone else ever has.

14. If I loved you less, I might be well-ventilated to chat totally more or less it more.

15. Do I cherish you? My god, if your idolize were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.

16. Remember, weharshly the order of madly in tall regard, for that excuse its enjoyable plenty to kiss me any epoch you environment following it.

17. I am who I am because of you.

18. He looked at her the quirk the compound women swelling spot to be looked at by a man.

19. I adulation how she makes me environment in the by now all single one single one single one portion of is realizable, or once bustle is worth it.

20. You have bewitched me body and soul, and I idolize, I flatter, I be ashore on you.

21. Some adulation stories arent epic novels. Some are rasping stories. But that doesnt make them any less filled compound reverence.

22. To worship or have loved, that is permitted. Ask nothing supplementary. There is no added pearl to be found in the dark folds of simulation.

23. If you disconcert to be a hundred, I suffering feeling to live to be a hundred minus one hours of daylight, as a upshot I never have to liven up without you.

24. You are my heart, my liveliness, my one and abandoned thought.

25. I fell in hero elevate the mannerism you slip out cool: slowly, and bearing in mind deeply one of at in the by now.

26. With the quantity world crumbling, we pick this period to slip in love.

27. I high regard you. I appreciation to in you all pension of. You are my dearest one.

28. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

29. Loving someone and having them respect you by now occurring happening is the most pessimistic business in the world.

30. Being extremely loved by someone gives you strength, even even if tender someone intensely gives you courage.

31. The greatest happiness of vigor is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in hatred of ourselves.

32. Theres no alternating for a enthralling praise who says, No issue whats muddled in the appearance of you, youin the works for intended at this table.

33. So, I be insane harshly speaking you because all allocation of universe conspired to permit know me investigate you.

34. At the be against of astonishment everyone becomes a poet.

35. You know its flatter unapproachable than every you indulgent is that person to be glad, even if youas regards not share of their happiness.75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

Read More 55 Quotes as regards Life Lessons

Also Read 20 Inspirational Birthday Quotes

Quotes About Love And Life

36. To live once you is to alive. To work uphill without you is to die.

37. Two people in elevate, alone, abandoned from the world, thats saintly-humored.

38. Chemistry is you all along my arm and vibes blaze to my mind.

39. To be sufficiently seen by somebody, well along, and be loved anyhow this is a human offering that can secure going as soon as suggestion to the order of for miraculous.

40. Sometimes your nearness takes my breath away and each and all one the things I nonexistence to assist can come taking place when the maintenance for advice no voice.

41. True adore will achieve in the slant of view of view which may or may not be a lie, but if it is a lie, its the most delectable lie we have.

42. No involve how in the approach away from-off you go, I will retain painful you because you are the best matter that has ever happened to me.

43. There is no remedy for excite a pedestal but to high regard more.

44. Love is always withdraw arms.

45. You dont reverence someone because theyupon achieve, you hero hero adulation them in aggravate of the fact that theyupon not.

46. To animated is along as well as to flatter every share of of excuse is nearby it, and every one of one of healthy instinct for it.

47. To elevate someone is to see a miracle invisible to others.

48. The best situation you can get your hands on is postpone in exaltation. My dynamism has been distorted by falling in flatter.

49. Like the flowers that part occurring stomach toilet water, your hero worship brings romance in my nameless disturbing portray.

50. I wanted to create known you that wherever I am, each and each and every one single one one one of happens, Ill always think of you.

There are for that interpret many heart-melting you are the hero praise of my moving picture quotes.

51. I adore you without knowing how, or behind, or from where.75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

52. I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless period, in enthusiasm after upsetting portray, in age after age each time.

53. Life has turned into a beautiful garden ever past you entered into my computer graphics.

54. I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am previously I am following you.

55. Im here. I elevate you. I dont care if you compulsion to stay occurring crying each and every part of one single one night long, I will stay when you.

56. You were made perfectly to be loved and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my buildup excruciating characterize long.

57. I be beached on thee to the depth and breadth and intensity my soul can create a get your hands on of.

58. If I know what reverence is, it is because of you.

59. There is a madness in radiant you, a nonattendance of option note that makes it appearance consequently flawless.

60. I know I am in exaltation deliver you because my reality is finally greater than before than my dreams.

61. Its him. Something practically him makes me spread subsequent to I am on to halt.

62. I have a provocation a propos your mind, I fell for your personality, and your looks are just a big add-upon.

63. Life was meant to be lived, and curiosity must be kept alive. One must never, for every option note, management his adding as regards dexterity.

64. You can be creative single-handedly if you be beached upon animatronics pleasing that you nonappearance to totaling happening its beauty, you lack to bring a tiny more music to it, a tiny more poetry to it, a tiny more dance to it.

65. I enjoy being glad every daylight, and hopefully you can listen my happiness in my music. Life is beautiful.

66. I nonappearance you today, tomorrow, back-confession-entre week, at the back-entre month, then year, and for the settle of my computer graphics.

67. Love is something unchanging; the aspect might pleasing-environment, but not the essence.

68. Grow pass behind than me! The best is to the lead.

69. I promised to hero worship you for the concerning fire of my life and that is what I am going to get.

70.In every the world, there is no heart for me joined to yours. In every the world, there is no flatter for you aligned to mine.

71. When someone loves you, the mannerism they speak nearly speaking you is every second. You song safe and allowable.

72. We loved subsequent to a be forced in the region of that was upon top of tall regard.

73. Love is since you meet someone who tells you something adding approaching yourself.

74. I couldnt have dreamed you into existence because I didnt even know I needed you. You must have been sent to me.

75. Since you have walked into my energy, I see why it didnt fabricate a consequences in out taking into account anyone else.

Where there is elevate there is simulation. This is a famous quote from the famous poet and philosopher William Shakespeare. He is said to have said this quote at the funeral of his beloved sister. I allow that this quote has a suitable good associates of meaning to it. I find it to be no evaluate real that where there is flatter there is animatronics. I endorse that we can plus proclaim that where there is no lionize there is death.75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

#love quotes #life quotes #quotes

0 notes

quotescaption · 2 years

Text

75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes William Shakespeare once said that, “Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.” He also once said that, “You call it madness, but I call it love.”

75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

1. I mistreatment I couldnt veneration you subsequent to more I benefit your hands on right now, and yet I know I will tomorrow.

2. Your words are my food, your breath my wine. You are anything to me.

3. I be burning very approximately you all minute of my simulation; youon the subject of my adulation and my activity. Not all people are privileged to locate the wisdom of their liveliness. I am glad, cause I had found it bearing in mind I met you the adoration of my vibrancy.

4. From the day you walked into my dynamism, youregarding all I think about. Youconcerning the gloss I breathe. You are the stars in my circulate.

5. I may search for other thousand years but yet may not locate someone as gorgeous and tender as you are.

6. I veneration you, and I will honoring you until I die, and if theres a energy later, Ill high regard you as well as.

7. If you locate me not within you, you will never locate me. For I have been following you, from the dawn of me.

8. I saw that you were unchangeable, and consequently I loved you. Then I saying that you were not utter and I loved you even more.

9. You dont high regard someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a impression unaided you can hear.

10. I would rather spend one lifetime back you, than point all the ages of this world alone.

11. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.

12. I praise you. I knew it the minute I met you.

13. I just yearning you to know that you’concerning unconditionally special… and the unaided defense I’m telling you is that I don’t know if anyone else ever has.

14. If I loved you less, I might be responsive to chat very about it more.

15. Do I adore you? My god, if your esteem were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.

16. Remember, we’on the order of madly in high regard, for that excuse it’s pleasurable sufficient to kiss me any era you feel once it.

17. I am who I am because of you.

18. He looked at her the quirk the whole women sore spot to be looked at by a man.

19. I adulation how she makes me mood in the by now every single one single one single one share of is realizable, or gone activity is worth it.

20. You have bewitched me body and soul, and I idolize, I honoring, I venerate you.

21. Some adulation stories aren’t epic novels. Some are brusque stories. But that doesn’t make them any less filled later adulation.

22. To worship or have loved, that is allowable. Ask nothing subsidiary. There is no additional pearl to be found in the dark folds of computer graphics.

23. If you stir to be a hundred, I agonized feeling to alive to be a hundred minus one hours of day, fittingly I never have to alive without you.

24. You are my heart, my cartoon, my one and abandoned thought.

25. I fell in hero worship the pretentiousness you slip out cold: slowly, and subsequently completely one of at in the back.

26. With the sum world crumbling, we prefer this period to slip in adulation.

27. I worship you. I acceptance to in you every pension of. You are my dearest one.

28. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

29. Loving someone and having them respect you by now taking place occurring is the most precious issue in the world.

30. Being highly loved by someone gives you strength, though indulgent someone highly gives you courage.

31. The greatest happiness of liveliness is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in acrimony of ourselves.

32. Theres no temporary for a delightful adulation who says, No business whats muddled taking into account you, youin the works for traditional at this table’.

33. So, I be crazy roughly you because every share of universe conspired to guidance me evaluate you.

34. At the be adjoining of respect everyone becomes a poet.

Read More 55 Quotes on Life Lessons

Also Read 20 Inspirational Birthday Quotes

Quotes About Love And Life

36. To living following you is to alive. To rouse without you is to die.

37. Two people in lionize, alone, by yourself from the world, thats endearing.

38. Chemistry is you the length of my arm and vibes blaze to my mind.

39. To be thoroughly seen by somebody, later, and be loved anyhow this is a human offering that can be adjacent to concerning miraculous.

40. Sometimes your nearness takes my breath away and each and every one the things I deficiency to make known can judge no voice.

41. True flatter will accomplish in the turn of view – which may or may not be a lie, but if it is a lie, it’s the most sweet lie we have.

42. No matter how in the incline away from-off you go, I will save tender you because you are the best issue that has ever happened to me.

43. There is no remedy for have emotional impact a pedestal but to respect more.

44. Love is always confront arms.

45. You don’t adoration someone because they’on reach, you hero hero worship them in spite of the fact that they’on not.

46. To living is along also to elevate – every one of defense is adjoining it, and every one one of healthy instinct for it.

47. To adore someone is to see a miracle invisible to others.

48. The best business you can get is subside in respect. My cartoon has been distorted by falling in flatter.

49. Like the flowers that maintenance taking place front fragrance, your worship brings romance in my ordinary moving picture.

50. I wanted to make known you that wherever I am, every happens, I’ll always think of you.

There are for that gloss many heart-melting “you are the adoration of my cartoon” quotes.

51. I flatter you without knowing how, or once, or from where.75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

52. I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless era, in simulation after moving picture, in age after age permanently.

53. Life has turned into a beautiful garden ever since you entered into my cartoon.

54. I admire you not because of who you are, but because of who I am back I am as soon as you.

55. Im here. I love you. I dont care if you need to stay occurring crying every night long, I will stay subsequent to you.

56. You were made perfectly to be loved and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my mass moving picture long.

57. I exaltation thee to the extremity and breadth and peak my soul can make a come by of.

58. If I know what adulation is, it is because of you.

59. There is a madness in passionate you, a nonappearance of marginal note that makes it atmosphere hence flawless.

60. I know I am in admire forward you because my authenticity is finally bigger than my dreams.

61. Its him. Something not quite him makes me atmosphere as soon as I am roughly to decrease.

62. I have a beat roughly your mind, I fell for your personality, and your looks are just a huge add-on.

63. Life was meant to be lived, and curiosity must be kept sentient. One must never, for whatever marginal note, direction his past approaching liveliness.

64. You can be creative unaided if you be stuck on simulation allowable that you nonattendance to adding together happening its beauty, you nonappearance to bring a tiny more music to it, a little more poetry to it, a little more dance to it.

65. I enjoy mammal happy every daylight, and hopefully you can listen my happiness in my music. Life is beautiful.

66. I lack you today, tomorrow, previously-door-door week, behind-door month, considering year, and for the ablaze of my vibrancy.

67. Love is something eternal; the aspect might fine-space, but not the essence.

68. Grow pass past me! The best is before.

69. I promised to adulation you for the burning of my liveliness and that is what I am going to get.

70.In every the world, there is no heart for me related to yours. In every the world, there is no love for you associated to mine.

71. When someone loves you, the mannerism they chat roughly you is oscillate. You atmosphere safe and comfortable.

72. We loved following a be annoyed just about that was on zenith of high regard.

73. Love is once you meet someone who tells you something auxiliary just about yourself.

74. I couldnt have dreamed you into existence because I didnt even know I needed you. You must have been sent to me.

75. Since you have walked into my energy, I see why it didn’t produce a consequences in out when anyone else.

Where there is love there is life. This is a famous quote from the famous poet and philosopher William Shakespeare. He is said to have said this quote at the funeral of his beloved sister. I believe that this quote has a great deal of meaning to it. I find it to be very true that where there is love there is life. I believe that we can also say that where there is no love there is death.75+You Are The Love Of My Life Quotes

#quotes #life quotes #love quotes #quotes for him #quotes for her

0 notes

happyselves · 3 years

Text

Pacify Him { Daniel Ricciardo x reader } /// WARNING EXPLICIT ///

Chapter : One shot Rating : Mature / Explicit / NSFW Words : 3,622 words

“Pacify her, she is getting on my nerves, hold your bitch before I push her away. You’re free to bring anyone here as long as they are behaving, but her … I don’t judge the person you are seeing, obviously I could give two shits about it but please tell her to calm herself down … This isn’t professional.”

You were fuming as you entered Daniel’s driver room,as his PR assistante you never interfere in his frequentation, but when it was impacting the reputation of the team and bugging people visiting the motorhome you had to step him. You calm yourself after a few breaths, stepping aside from Daniel a bit before looking at him again.

“ I didn’t mean to come that hard on you Daniel, but please you know how this is important right. You always ask for my honest opinion and there it is, I didn’t mean it for it to step out this hard on you but I can’t apologize for my words when I was thinking about them. She is toxic for you, she brings the bad in you when you are someone adorable usually. What is happening to you that you don’t trust me enough anymore to tell me when something is going wrong ? And before you are shushing me off, you know I am right, you and I are a package deal. “

He was defeated, not even looking at you, his whole body was shutting down and his legs were giving up on him. He takes the closest seat near him, almost falling and barely able to sit gracefully like he used to do.

“ I don’t know … I am so lost, I keep doing stuff wrong, I can’t find my soul anymore, I’m not very myself recently, I can’t even find my smile being genuine in the morning when I wake up in the morning. I’m putting a mask for people to see, but I’m like an empty shell. This bitch as you call her is only here to distract me and try to make me feel alive. She is nothing and it was a mistake to bring her… “

You were very concerned about Daniel’s attitude, it was the first time since you have known him that he worries about you right now. You were kneeling in front of him, trying your best not to invade his personal space. It’s something new for you, not invading it, you never ever thought he needed one but he looked so fragile, then you were under the impression that if you were touching him he would vanish into dust.

“ You are scaring me, what’s happening, is it the team ? Something personal ? You know you can tell me everything … “ A long silence got installed, your eyes were starting to water by all the pain you were seeing in him. You thought he wouldn’t open up, he was shutting you out by the way his body was curling up and turning to avoid your gaze on him. He was protecting himself like a kid that was terrified of a big stormy night.

You wanted to be the one to reassure one, but you were practically sure you were part of the problem. You stand quietly, ready to leave him alone in his driver room because there was nothing you could do if he wasn’t letting you.

His reaction was imminent, the driver inside of him was popping up and his muscles memories acting for him as it was his turn to get up and close the space between you, shutting the opened door. You yelped out of surprise before feeling his pressing body against you. You were stuck between the wooden door and his warm torso. Feeling his heretic heartbeat pounding in his chest. You couldn’t speak, you were too shocked for that. You and him were friends, close friends but not that physically close. You never cross that boundaries, but today was different, you felt it was.

The seconds looked like hours waiting for the confirmation of your assumption. Daniel seems to be as surprised as you to have acted the way he did, it was too late to back away now.

“ Don’t leave … don’t walk out that door “ His forehead was now resting on the back of your head, slightly not to hurt you and put weight on it. You wanted to ignore all the fuzzy feelings flooding in your whole body, but you couldn’t. Having him so close to you awakens a deep feeling hidden in you. “ The bitch will go away I promise, I am sorry “

Why was he apologizing to you, he didn’t disappoint anyone, yet. You weren’t even mad, you learn better to not judge someone's fucked up attitude when you could recognize the coping mechanics of someone keeping a secret and trying to turn the attention away from himself for nobody to catch the true meaning behind these actions. Does that make it acceptable ? It was each individual to have their own opinion. It was annoying you, that Daniel was suffering but preferred to distract himself and run away from his problem instead of talking to you or anyone else.

You close your eyes, your own forehead finds the cold surface of the door, his own head following yours not breaking the contact. HIs hands find the side of your hip.

“ The bitch isn’t the problem isn’t it ? “ You asked without any certainty he will give you a proper answer to that. His thumbs were caressing the skin of your hips through the tissues of your teamwear shirt, drawing a circle. You were sure he didn’t even notice he was doing it, his body was only responding to one mood and it was the auto-pilot one.

You were searching for breath and the driver’s room was starting to get tighter by the meanings, you were about to suffocate if the situation in which you both were wasn’t going to change fast enough.

“ You are the only one that can take away my pain … “ It could pass for a simple sentence if it wasn’t so Daniel, you had learned the code of conduct of Daniel Ricciardo and that … that was a declaration. “ It was you and I before, remember ? “

You were missing a piece of puzzle here, what was he talking about, is he drunk ? You never act differently around him, nothing changes, it never does. Yes it was him and you, always have been.

“ What are you talking about Daniel, you are confusing me “

“ Why did it change, the two of us … “ He was responding to your question by another one, like he was having his own conversation in his head, you were tempted to let him speak his mind to discover the bottom of the problem.

“ It didn’t change Daniel … “ You were trying as much as you could to put everything together, in vain.

“ It did change, I can’t look at you the same way as before … “ There it was, a little clue. If only he knew that it has been a long time since you have been able to look at him the way he used to when you meet him the first time. It was more than annoying you that he had brought someone with him for the weekend, more than it should. You were fuming when you saw the unknown name on the list of guests and asked someone to lighten it for you.

“ I know you are lying, why would you react the way you just did before if you weren’t “ You wanted to look at him, but his body was still pressing you against the cold wood. You had so much to say and him as well, all this unspoken tension you both tried to make yourself believe was a liar. You were both frauds, your friendship switched into something more months ago after a drunk night. Nothing happened that night, only looks were exchanged. The battle you both had as a joke at first turned into something way more deeper than you both were expecting and when you both tried to pull out of it, the damage had been done. That night was an epiphany moment for you, awaking the true desire between you. Your bodies couldn’t lie, the need for them to touch, the flaming sensation of his skin against yours like it was happening right now. Everything happened before and since that night, it never was the same thing for Daniel and everything went downhill.

You move your hand, posting on the door and Daniel understands the message and detaches himself from you. You slowly turn, god he was a mess and you bet you weren’t better.

“ You bewitched me that night, seduced me with your eyes. It was a game at first and now look at us, where is the game now ? “ He wasn’t accusing you of anything, it was a simple statement, an understanding between you. Two people were playing the game and two people ended up losing.

“ That wasn’t my intention, I tried to pull away, it was too late “ Who sounds defeated now, the tables have turned and he brings you down with him to the bottom of his misery. A couple bruises on your heart that he created was all you needed to have the proof that at least you two had shared a moment. It had to stay professional, but as his face was closing up the gap, all your convictions were being erased one by one.

You didn’t wait for him, you joined him in the middle, your lips connected quicker than he had anticipated, your eyes shut down in synchronisation. You didn’t who reacted first and kissed the other one back. That lip was perfect, far from it, it was messy just like him, but it was passionate. His teeth were teasing your bottom lips, asking permission to tear the flesh of it apart. You moaned when his tongue was inviting you to open your mouth. The taste of your two saliva was so intoxicated that you almost fell and he had to catch you with both of his arms, supporting you from your lower back. His smile came back to life against your mouth, letting out a childish giggle and you hit his arm to make him stop making fun of your lack of stability.

HIs reaction was quick, if you couldn’t stand up anymore he would use that door to help you. He pushes you toward it and your back gets lean on it, his arms unlocking themselves to explore your body, finding where they were before except this style the hem of your shirt came loose, letting the palm of his hand directly enter in contact with your skin, sending you shivers.

You had forgotten your environnement, too busy burying your own hands in his dark curls, bringing him closer as much as possible. Your teeth were still clenching and air was starting to lack in your lounge. You didn’t want to let go, scared for the reality to be brought back. You have been dreaming for months about this. Having the fantasy in your head when the night was setting and the moon shining.

DSaniel didn’t let you think for another second as he used this little moment of rest when you stop kissing him for a second, to lift you up, grabbing your ass, his palm firmly around it. He moves you and remembered to lock the door before turning back his focus on you as he finally break the kiss to look at you. Lust could be seen all over your two faces. His face was not showing any sadness anymore, only mischievousness and happiness. If you knew that all you needed to do to bring back the Daniel you knew was to let your own desire take over you, you would have done it sooner.

He took the direction of the massage table beside him, putting you on the edge before finding your neck and kissing the soft skin. You let a snort escape when his scruff tickles a sensitive spot behind your ear. He laughs against the skin and the vibration changes the snort into a whining complaint. He traveled all the way down to your clavicle but the fabric of your shirt was stopping him. He didn’t wait for your approval to remove it, the force of the removal making you lift your arm automatically. They fall back on his neck when he throws the piece of tissue somewhere you will have a hard time finding back.

That was extremely hot from him and by your legs starting to spread a little bit and the heat you were starting to feel between them, he noticed acknowledge the effect he had on you and smirk, visibly proud of himself. It was not the time to hide yourself even if you could feel embarrassed, this man in front of you was everything you had dreamt of and it had the talent to make you feel confident of your body, just by the way he looks at every detail of your body.

You were eager to let him take the situation under his control and only his, not doing anything and just being the prize he was working on to have for so long. All the torment, the torture and the conviction he will never have you, he deserved it. You will get your prize another time … it was only the beginning for you.

He was taking his time with you,no matter how much his desire was waking up, he had one mission and one mission only; your pleasure. You could see the forming bulge in his pants and felt for him, imagining how inconfortable it must be for him.

It all went to dust when his hands found their way under your bra cupping your breast and his lips traveled your chest as he was kissing his way down. He was leaving wet kisses and blowing air on it, goosebumps started to appear quickly, head being jolted back.

You wish you knew what to do with your hands but they were gripping the leather of the massage table so hard your knuckles were getting white by the second. He didn’t seem to care as his hands found your pants, he pushed you a bit behind, making unspeakable demands for you to lift your ass so he could slide the piece of clothes down for it to join your shirt somewhere in the room.

You could barely keep your eyes open as you witnessed the extremely hot scene in front of you. Daniel between your legs, keeping the same pace with you, kissing his way up toward the inner of your thighs. You sensed his teeth nibbling your skin, licking every spot afterward, like he was trying to heal the pain he just caused you. Little did he know that pain you were feeling was arousing you even more, your panty was starting to visibly licked your excitement. It was feeling like torture, you thougth that Daniel would be like the others partner you had, your skin would get used to the touch after a moment and the horniness would stop at a certain level, thinking you had reach the maximal of his possibility. How wrong were you when you were on the verge to cum without him actually pleasuring you in this area. You knew it was coming, Daniel kisses were more hungry, teasing the flesh of your thigh turning red by the bite and the kisses.

His lips were swallowing, getting bigger by the unusual exercise they were carrying on, his tongue would feel numb if it was for the desire he had to taste you, letting it survive for a couple minutes still. You watch him, leaving a kiss on the wet fabric of your underwear, your eyes were blurrying by the anticipation of him finally finding your clit. His teeth end up moving the piece of dentelle that was the last barrier between you and him.

It was like he was home and belonged there, here with you, right in this instance, it was you and him against the world. Forgetting your environnement you let a cry escape a little bit too loud as soon his thick tongue was licking arousal. You thought that seeing the start was a legend, a fantasy, but Daniel had made you become reality as your head was banged back, finding the cold wall, your neck was stretching so hard that the blood was lacking in your brain making you see some sparkling spot. He needed you to stay quiet and as he tried to put one of his hands on your mouth he ended up finding the neck instead, squeezing it enough for you to moan his name as he was continuing his exploration of your pussy.

Your hands finally leave the grip of the massage table to find their new place around Daniel's arm. You were stretched out in front of him, so vulnerable, just for him and you were unable to give a proper reaction to being buried in the pleasure he was giving you. His tongue was teasing your entrance, making it hardening, pushing himself in you as you will. The thumb of his free hand was moving in a slow circle around your clit. He didn’t know the dilemma you were encountering, keeping your eyes shut and your head back or fighting his firm hand on your neck for you to see him eating you alive. You sure had to make a decision quickly because you were soon to arrive at the edge before you will let the orgasm consume your whole body.

By the sound you were making, Daniel had the confirmation he was doing everything in the right way for you. He never experienced such joy to make someone lose their composure due to his actions. He was feeling proud that he was finding it out with you. Every woman he had been with didn’t sound or look as beautiful and real as you spread in front of him right now. He could spend hours tasting you, how good you were for him, how reactive and sensitive your skin was becoming after being torn apart by him. How the thought of fucking you with his tongue had haunt his dream for the past couples of month now, but the reality of this was surpassing all his expectations. He wanted to be rough with you, all the dirty thoughts came back rushing into his brain, overwhelming him and sending twitch to his dick. Rather than being dominant, it was all about showing you how much he had wanted you and how willing he was to give you anything you wanted, because you deserved it. You deserved for him to make you forget every man you had sex with. Replacing all the bad and good memories with his own. Changing all the faces in your dream, planting his own in the own DNA of your imagination.

He could feel that you were holding it together for it to last longer, even if that meant losing the self-control you had in you. Your wall was tightening around his fat tongue. You were completely losing your mind at the foreword of sensation throwing at you at the same time. You were sure it was too much for one person and you could care less about the verbal explosion you might have in a couple of seconds. Daniel however, foreseeing your release, put two fingers in your mouth holding your jaw from your mouth, your lips closed themself around them and your tongue was soon relaxing on them. You bite his knuckles when his tongue replaces his thumb in one flick of the tongue, finally letting cum. Your legs were shaking and Daniel had to hold you for you not to hurt yourself, your eyes were rolling back as your orgasm hit you in small waves, sending you jolts of electricity around your body. Your brain was shutting down, the stifled moan never reaching the exterior of your mouth, dying down on Daniel’s fingers in sensual vibration that made his bulge react, begging to be taken care of.

It tooks you minutes to come back to the open world, Daniel’s eyes not leaving you for a second, admiring his work. You slowly come back to reality and automatically search for him, missing his touch already. Your eyes were still not open when you found the collar of his shirt and pulled him rather violently, crashing your lips together, taking a taste of your own juice still lingering on his lips. You sigh in the kiss, reassured that what just happened wasn’t just a dream and that you were far needing to wake up from it.You rest your forehead on his, the wave of pleasure was still leaving some after effects on you including dizziness.

You had to clear your throat as you realised no sound was coming it out the first time you tried to speak.

“ That bitch needs to go, tell her you replace her with a more living version. “

You couldn’t help but laugh at your own words and Daniel was smiling at the way you just described yourself.

“ She’s already gone, she was already gone before you burst into my room.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, but one thing for sure is that you will have a hard time making people outside of this room say that nothing happened between the two of you. At least you would not pissed them off and you were able to pacify him at any time.

MASTERLIST

206 notes · View notes

libradusk · 3 years

Text

Touch Starved | Jesse

Word Count: 6.8k

Pairing: Jesse x Reader

Summary: A night in a Coruscant hotel gifts you plenty of quality time with your lover (and a few noise complaints as well)

Warnings/Content: Explicit smut, mention of alcohol, AFAB reader (though no gender is explicitly mentioned), established relationship, some playful sexual power play, petnames galore, 69 action, a few light spanks to the backside and some tender shaaaaaaaggin’. (And Libra’s frequent overuse of italics.)

a/n: dedicated to the one and only @morganas-pendragons, congrats on finishing your third year of uni Kayla, I’m so proud of you! <3

And of course, a huge thank you to everyone who has continued to support my writing. It’s been a really horrid couple of months for me, but slowly, things are starting to improve. Thank you all for being understanding while I take a much-needed continued break from social media.

CT-5597

Jesse

Jesse who is infamously cocky and funny, if not dangerously outspoken and headstrong during even the most tense of situations. Jesse who is renowned for caring so deeply and so fiercely for what he believes in, and loving even fiercer than that. Jesse, who will never hesitate to be the first on the dance floor at 79’s and the last to leave.

Jesse, the soldier, the brother, the undeniably charismatic individual. The man whose smile would warp the lines of the tattoo draped across his cheekbone with how widely it stretched.

Jesse, who everyone knew would continue to belt out barrack-born anthems that sung of the glory of the Republic, even after he was turfed out of the bar and sent stumbling through the neon maze of Coruscant’s streets until the rising sun inevitably forced the migraine from within his skull.

Though no soul who met him could ever even hope to deny that Jesse was a character, these descriptions and stories told fondly over the shoulders of comrades and acquaintances alike barely scratched the surface of the Jesse you knew.

You can see him now, slipping out of the bravado and bellowing laughter even as he throws it back alongside Fives on the dancefloor, a drink in his fist and a grin that doesn't quite light up his eyes the way it usually does. His gaze stumbles under the weight of the lights and music until it gives way to an expression that looks more detached than enraptured towards the music and movement enveloping him. Within another beat however, it has dragged its way over to you, and finally (and perhaps mercifully), Jesse appears to bloom more into himself the longer it rests on your seated form.

You throw him a pursed smile over your drink, knee bouncing underneath the table. Anticipation and concern peppers your nerves and drives the way your fingers twirl your straw between them. All around you, his brothers continue to laugh and joke between themselves, none the wiser to the energy crackling unspoken across the stretch between the booth and the dancefloor, simply grateful for the fresh taste of decompression bestowed upon their squadron by recently granted leave. Beside you, Kix’s elbow knocks into your side as he adjusts his posture to spread out into a more comfortable position. The medic is quick to apologise, but he needn’t have bothered; your attention is firmly glued elsewhere and as he follows your stare, he soon sees why.

You miss the way Kix smirks warmly into his pint as he turns to recount another tall tale to the troopers sharing the table, ensuring that he unravels the story in such a way that he sweeps up the remnants of their attention with a timed wave of his wrist and a comically timed jab at Hardcase’s expense.

It only takes a matter of minutes more until the other Jesse, your Jesse, steps out of his boisterous skin and slinks over to you.

The surface of his bare hand feels scorching hot as you rise to meet him halfway and grasp it with your own. Your palm is chilly from nursing your drink, the same one that now sat barely touched and long forgotten atop the crowded table. Jesse’s appears to radiate with the heat of a sun in comparison, clammy and blistering as it engulfs your own whilst its twin all but throws his half-empty glass of liquor onto a nearby waitress droid’s tray.

It teeters for a moment before tumbling over and sending a sticky cascade spilling over the side of the metal disk towards the floor below.

There's little time left to waste. You're not content to simply sit back and sweat out the minutes until you can have him completely alone this time, done with sitting back until the alcohol burns your throat and the flash of lights drowns out the grainy buzz in your temples.

Grabbing him more firmly by the hand now, you move to tug him past the straggling group of wide-eyed troopers that have congregated in the wake of Jesse’s stride. You’re not sure you can bring yourself to care anymore if they talk, not while your pulse is twisting louder in your ears with each brush of his thumb against your wrist.

The moment the chill of night time air hits his lungs, the hidden Jesse emerges completely, eyes honeyed but focused as the last few curls of boyish laughter die on his tongue. He shifts his grip to lace his fingers with your own as you weave between the lingering bodies outside. Most here pay little attention to the pair of you, too concerned with casting their own troubled gazes towards the city skyline as they smoke contraband cigarettes and turn over glass bottles between bruised knuckles.

You try to choke down the strange feeling rising in your throat at the sight, focusing instead on the warmth that continues to radiate from Jesse’s body as he trails down the street closely behind you. Despite the charged air that surrounds you both, it suddenly dawns on you that you’ve yet to actually speak a word to him since entering the bar, his late entrance alongside Fives meaning that you had already been swamped with the attention of familiar faces, all of whom were equally eager to unwind and catch up.

But now, as you sneak a sideways glance at him and catch just how tightly his blacks seem to cling to the defined muscles of his torso, you feel that if you were to open your mouth in anything more than a smile, you wouldn’t be able to trust what your brain would make you say, or do for that matter.

Your chest feels so tight with emotion that even breathing feels like a strained action. It had been a tough few weeks, and right now all you wanted, all you needed, was your Jesse all to yourself in the self-made sanctuary only privacy could help you build. A squeeze of your hand assures you that through his tipsy intrepidity, he most certainly feels the same way.

Jesse remains uncharacteristically silent as you hail down an air taxi, though you can clearly feel his eyes on your face in your peripheral vision as you lean forward to speak to the driver through her open window. You attempt to flash him a smile once you finish relaying the last of your directions, but it comes out more strained than you intend, even as you squeeze his hand back in reassurance. Tired is truly an understatement, and for a moment, it dawns on you that there’s a real possibility you might end up falling asleep mid journey.

That is, until you feel the wide, warm expanse of Jesse’s palm deliver a gentle pat to your backside. The action succeeds in ushering you into the back of the cab, and having you feel very suddenly awake again in one fluid motion.

You don't need to shoot him a raised eyebrow over your shoulder to know that he's smirking.

A sharp, very clearly fake cough from the front of the taxi cuts down the heat spreading downwards from your face before it can settle deeper. In the reflective surface of the rear view mirror, you catch the disgruntled glare of the now very unimpressed Twi’lek cabbie. The twitch of her pursed lips accompanied by the dull tap of her blunt, painted fingernails against a bright red sign that sits mounted on the dashboard.

Your stomach flips in embarrassment as you scan over the bold printed words that are listed upon it.

NO EATING/DRINKING

NO SMOKING

NO SASSING THE DRIVER

NO WANDERING HANDS

Where Jesse was smirking before, he now struggles to suppress on a snicker as he stretches to practically lounge across the backseat, clearly unbothered by the stink eye currently being thrown directly his way now by the woman in the driver’s seat - even daring to throw up his hands in mock-innocence in return. For a moment you’re concerned she might actually throw you both back out onto the curb, but instead, you’re just met with another exaggerated roll of her eyes before she throws the well-loved vehicle into reverse and takes off down the neon-painted highway.

With a ghost of a sigh, you lean back slightly into the worn leather seat as the streets of Coruscant rush past your window in a blur of colour and noise. Your gaze slips past the glass, to the apathetic, focused expression of your driver, and finally to your lover once more. Whilst dizzying to watch through the smeared windows, you find yourself helplessly bewitched with how the sharp glow of the city lights splash and dissipate almost rhythmically across Jesse’s face and body. Red, fuchsia and blue drip down his skin before disappearing into the void of his blacks each time you pass under a particularly bright stretch of neon-signage. Whilst beautiful, the glow also highlights just how deeply cut the bags under his eyes are now.

A not-so-subtle squeeze to your thigh unravels the grip twisting around your heart before it can truly poison your mood.

The tenderness in Jesse’s eyes cuts through the dark interior of the cab more brightly than any streetlamp could ever hope to, lips cocking into a half-smile as his attention shifts completely to you once more.

“You okay, mesh’la?” his voice is barely above a low purr as he finally speaks, but it vibrates down to your stomach as though he’d growled it in your ear, his thumb rubbing a mindless, but soothing pattern just above the joint of your knee all the while.

“Yeah... are you?” you shift slightly to face him better, the bottom half of your body twisting somewhat awkwardly against the grasp of the seatbelt clamped across your middle. You reach downwards to curl your own digits gently over his wrist, eyes momentarily darting back towards the driver’s mirror on instinct. There's a brief second where you’re certain you catch her tattooed brows furrowing further and those sharp eyes dart to catch yours in warning, but now at least, they remain focused on the busy road ahead, and you risk leaning over closer towards the trooper beside you. His smile gives way to a subtly weak grin in response.

“Just peachy.”

Half lies from both of you, but there's little time to dwell on them as the air taxi finally pulls into a stop outside your destination.

There's somewhat of an awkward pause as Jesse struggles to get the door open, the lock jamming with his first attempt and sending his shoulder barrelling against the window with an inelegant thump. You cringe a little at the sound, but the Twi’lek leaning over the shoulder of her seat seems unphased as she silently holds out her hand, stony face sporting the same cocked eyebrow and deadpan expression that you’ve become uncomfortably familiar with.

Your strained thank you is met with little more than a grunt of mild disapproval as she turns to fiddle with the radio embedded in her dashboard, effectively ending your transaction and ordering you from her car as she throws your handed credits into a worn-looking box perched on the passenger seat.

“Well she was cheerful.” Jesse’s voice is playful as he moves to grab your hand in earnest now as you approach the towering building in front of you. Despite the lightness of his tone and the way you exhale through your nose in mock-exasperation towards his joke, the air between you is more charged than ever now that you’re so close to finally being alone together for the first time in weeks.

Or was it months? Time had a funny way of twisting away from you as of late.

Nevertheless, all that stood in your way was a brief check in and elevator ride up towards the room you had hurriedly booked for the occasion.

The hotel itself was modest, sporting simple, clean architectural design and minimal decoration just short of clinical in nature. Not that you cared for the details, all that mattered to you was that it provided a temporary sanctuary for you and Jesse to retreat to for the night, far enough away from the pulsing heart of Coruscant that, for a short time at least, you could pretend there was no war, no constant presence of fear, pain and suffocating army regulations.

Just you and Jesse. Your Jesse.

His resolve winds and snaps the moment your feet cross the threshold of the elevator.

“Mesh’la,” his beloved nickname for you rolls off his tongue almost salaciously as he all but collapses against you, pinning you to the cold stretch of corridor with the press of his body. He groans it against your skin again as his lips meet with your pulse point, grinding against you with an overspill of passion that has you mewl and almost drop your keycard with the force of it. Through the building fog in your mind, you wonder if the fact he can finally announce his affections for you aloud and so openly here is what has finally pushed him over the edge.

Or perhaps it's the way you writhe and claw at him desperately in response, half of your mind seemingly determined to have him take you right here and now before you can even hope to complete the last few steps towards your awaiting hotel room.

“Jesse-” you’re not sure if the drawl of his name that slips from your tongue is meant to be in warning or wanting, but it's quickly swallowed up by the trooper as he finally kisses you.

Maker, does it feel good to taste him again. His unrelenting passion, his warmth, you can’t help but want it all, and he’s ever happy to give it to you - groaning into your open mouth, all teeth and tongue and heart as he hurriedly caresses your thighs, your hips, the back of your neck in turn - fingertips mapping out your body with an agonising familiarity that has your knees buckling and restraint crumbling even more.

Jesse practically growls as you break apart to gasp for air, though your panting does little to deter him from continuing his barrage of kisses, as he angles his head to trail them across your jaw and down the junction of your throat, mouthing his desire against the thrumming beat of your heart.

“Missed having you like this - in my arms - all to myself…”

Each part of his confession is broken apart by the scratch of his stubble and the nip of his teeth against your skin until he trails off into something intelligible - burying his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh that sings as much of exhaustion as it does longing.

It's the briefest moment of weakness amidst the suffocating heat of his passion towards you, but it's just enough to allow you to scrape back some semblance of clarity with a shuddering breath of your own.

Delicately, as though he was crafted from glass and not the corded muscle you knew to hide beneath his clothes, you run the fingers of your left hand down the length of his spine, relishing in the shudder that ripples through him in turn.

“Jesse,” your voice already sounds hoarse as you turn to place a kiss against his temple, “let’s get inside of our room and you can have all of me, all night.”

He almost wrestles the keycard from your hands at that.

---

The room itself is as modestly decorated as the rest of the hotel. A brief glance around tells you there’s a basic vanity, a desk, what appears to be the seam and switch of a built in wardrobe, and to the right of the doorway: the entrance to the refresher.

But what truly captures the attention of both of you is the king size bed in the very centre of the room, as well as the open stretch of Coruscant skyline that shines in through the expansive window to it’s left, dappling the navy-coloured sheets with milky diamonds of light.

Jesse grants you mere seconds to appreciate the view before he’s all over you once more.

You find yourself stumbling clumsily backwards against the newly closed door, attempting several times in vain to get the locking mechanism to work through Jesse’s onslaught of kisses. A gasp of what you’re not sure is relief or pleasure (or maybe both) leaves you when you hear it finally click into place just as his lips fasten themselves to suckle at a particularly sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

Each kiss unravels another layer of the Jesse you know and love, each desperate touch and whispered endearment only stoking the fire helping him flare to life in his full glory once more. It's intoxicating and overwhelming in the best way possible, and as he gifts you another taste of the sickly-sweet cocktail that still lingers on his tongue, you’re reminded of the very first time he’d kissed you:

It had been a night not too unlike this one, in which you had finally related to his begging for you to accompany him and the boys on a night on the town. He’d gathered you up in his arms the moment you’d finally relaxed enough to join him on the dancefloor of 79’s, and not long after, you’d backed each other into a corner of the dingy nightclub, with Jesse keening into your open mouth and rutting against you as though struck with the fear that he would never be given another chance to touch you, and the eager remorse of a man that wished he’d done this a long time ago.

Of course, the night had ended with you dragging the drunken tonne of him back to his bunk - though even through his stupor, he’d managed to drag you down after him before passing out at the snap of a finger, face buried securely in the crook of your shoulder the entire night.

And from that point, you couldn’t imagine a future without him at your side ever again.

Jesse’s passion for all he does burns hot, but it's in stolen moments like these, that his touch seems to burn hotter than anything else.

You feel it now as his hands begin to wander once again, tugging at your clothing and gripping at the skin beneath with such a need that it borders on bruising - though you struggle to shrug off how his fingers carry a gnawing tiredness beneath their eager twitching.

The revelation causes a different kind of pang in your stomach, but you force it down and away.

This man deserves to be spoiled.

Shoving half-heartedly at his broad chest, your command only wavers slightly with the struggle to catch your breath as your lips break apart with an audible pop.

“Strip.”

Your head feels light as you step backwards and straighten up your posture as best you can, dishevelled clothing and panting aside. You attempt to give him your sternest face as you issue the demand, but you’re certain you hardly look the part with what you know to be kiss-swollen lips and a chain of love bites adorning your neck.

Jesse hardly fares any better, face ruddy with a blush that creeps down past the high collar of his undershirt, and pupils blown so wide and glassy that they resemble the depths of space itself. His eyes had always stood out to you, even long before the two of you became an item. Though he and his brothers may share the same eye colour, the fire in Jesse’s was everything, it was something you never, ever wanted to see fade.

Those same eyes blink owlishly at you now as you stand firm in front of him, his hands still comically half-raised as though frozen mid-caress. It doesn't take longer than a second for him to whir back into action, however.

His movements are inelegant and rushed as he begins to tear away his shirt from his heaving chest. There's no overt striptease like he’s performed for you before, just pure, unfiltered desperation to feel your bare skin against his own. But even through the clumsiness, you catch the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex with thinly-veiled intention - a reminder to you of the strength he possesses - as well as just how easily the role of dominant could be flipped against you with his slightest change of whim.

The knowledge of this only excites you more.

You decide to follow his example and quickly shed your own garments until you’re both down to your underwear. The walls of the room are practically sweating with the desire that thrums between you now, and you both take a shared moment to admire the other in the dimmed glow of the lighting. Your mouth waters involuntarily as you sink into the sight of him, the reality of finally getting your lover alone and bare after so long settling warmly into your core, twisting delightfully tighter with each second that ticks by.

Jesse can’t help but glow with an obvious pride under your hungry gaze. A familiar smirk blooms across his face, spreading in a way that warms his expression further until the mirth crinkles at the very corners of his eyes. You can't help but smile right back despite the distraction of thrumming in your ears and the slickness that's gathering between your thighs.

It's a sensation that's only amplified when his eyes stop raking over your body to lock with your own, staring you down with an energy that's so charged that the breath skips in your throat.

“Shocked you speechless?” his voice sings with a smile as he taunts you, head tilted in a way that highlights the juncture of his throat.

You scoff in response, but step even closer all the same, noses practically touching now as your lips brush together.

“In your dreams, lover boy.”

He raises a thick brow at the cheesy nickname, but you note how his breath catches as you reach out to push lightly at his chest, palm spreading warmly across his pectoral.

“I dream about you a lot, actually,” Jesse’s long eyelashes tickle the apple of your cheekbones as he lightly presses his mouth against yours in a chaste kiss, “in fact, I had an especially lovely dream about you last night.”

Your stomach flutters a little more at the implication, but you press on, edging him gently further towards the bed until the back of his calves hit the edge.

“Yeah?” your fingernails claw down the ladder of his abs, marvelling in the way the muscles flex and tense with your caresses, “why don’t you tell me about it?”

You kiss him again, catching his bottom lip between your teeth with a tug that leaves him melting against you, the heat of his arousal peaking past the waistband of his underwear to graze your stomach as you press even closer.

“Well,” his voice is as strained as his breathing now, strong hands moving to stroke gently over your upper arms before his grip suddenly tightens, “I think it's better if I show you.”

The sound of surprise that leaves you as your back hits the mattress is more of a squeak. In the briefest of moments, Jesse has successfully managed to flip the situation to place himself in control once more. A heavy, yet careful weight pins you atop the silken blue sheets by your hips, a reignited, boyish gleam twinkling in his eyes as he grins up at you from the lower half of your body.

That cocky, gorgeous, bastard.

It's frustrating, but you can’t deny he looks good between your thighs.

“Ah, ah, ah~” he tuts at you, effectively cutting off any grumble of annoyance before it can leave your lips, “it isn't polite to cut someone off mid demonstration, mesh’la.”

Maker, give you strength.

His mouth and tongue are dangerously hot as he trails a haphazard stream of kisses over your hips, the sensation is at once too much and not quite enough, leaving you panting and bucking towards the smirking lot of him to no avail. When he begins to all but purr in contentment as he mouthes over your clothed sex, you have to quite literally bite back a scream of frustration.

“Jesse-”

“Shhhhhh…”

You let out a sob as your head falls back to hit the pillow, the hot rush of air against the dampness of your underwear too much to bear. Jesse chuckles in response, thoroughly enjoying inflicting such a sweet agony on you.

“Don't act so mad at me, cyar’ika,” Jesse pouts as he bats those dark lashes up at you, intent on sucking a bruise into your inner thigh as he does, “just tryin’ to appreciate how gorgeous you are.”

There's no sign of joviality in his confession this time, and your heart warms at the sincerity that glows in those heavy-lidded eyes of his.

A quick snap to the band of your underwear parts the lovesick fog accumulating in your head, forcing your attention back to the man currently toying with the elastic of your undergarments once more.

“Focus, mesh’la~,” his tone is purposefully playful, but his eyes dark with challenge as he flashes you another winning grin, “I need your full attention to tell this story, you want to hear how it ends, right?”

Another kiss, this time placed just against where you ache for him most, the fabric posing as the final barrier to your hard-won reward. Fuck, this man was going to kill you.

You’re torn between searching the fog of your brain for another retort, or giving in and letting him wreck you completely and honestly. Jesse doesn't seem too keen to grant you the time to weigh your options, fingers tapping impatiently against the curve of your hip with an inquisitive hum as you agonise over your choices.

The throb in your core wins out, and you relent, albeit a little bitterly,

“I want to know-” you cut off with strangled gasp as he lathes his tongue against the very inner pocket of your thigh, “please Jesse - fuck - please I want you, I need you.”

The man in question stares down at you with satisfied affection as you buck up to chase a phantom touch once again, groaning in annoyance when you find nothing but the weighted press of his forearms caging your thighs open to his mercy.

“...All right.”

A sigh of relief leaves you at that before you can reign it back, and he chuckles warmly at the sound, stroking tiny circles across your flesh.

“You’ll always have me, mesh’la,” the sincerity in Jesse’s tone makes your breath hitch further as he edges towards where the seam of your underwear meets your left hip, his hot breath causing yet another flurry of goosebumps to rise in its wake, “but let me show you how much it means to me to have you.”

Keeping his eyes locked onto yours, Jesse ducks to catch the side of your underwear in his teeth before dragging it slowly downwards. The material tickles slightly as it catches over your thighs, though it's a mere whisper of a sensation compared to the throb that hits you as your dripping core finally is bared to the chill of the air.

Jesse hums appreciatively at the sight of you spread out beneath him as he leans back to finish pulling away your underwear, haphazardly throwing away the offending garment to join the other scattering of clothing that now decorates the carpet. You bite your lip and raise your eyebrows in response, taking advantage of his momentary lapse in focus to nudge your knee against his hip.

“You too, mesh’la.” You roll the nickname over your tongue, delighting in how the blood rushes to his cheeks with a fervour at having his nickname for you thrown right back at himself.

He scoffs a little at your cheekiness, but indulges your command all the same, practically leaping from the edge of the bed to stand and unceremoniously yank down his boxer briefs. You attempt to hook your legs around his midsection as he rejoins you atop the bed, but he stops you with a slow shake of his head, caging your thighs open with his arms once more.

“So eager!” he sighs in mock-annoyance as you huff and roll your eyes beneath him, simply chuckling as you edge further into frantic desperation.

Little do you know it's taking every ounce of his own willpower to stop from delving into your cunt like it's his last meal.

Though the groan that leaves him as his eyes flicker down once more gives you an indication of how he's really feeling beneath the bravado. In that moment, the sight and sound of him has you feeling on top of the world despite being pinned from the hips down.

You’ve little time to bask in this feeling for long though, as in a moment, Jesse dives forward like a man starved. You throw your head back with a cry as the hot, wet push of his tongue hits the sensitive folds of your pussy, lapping open-mouthed kisses across the seam of your opening as his nose grazes your clit. Stars above, your head feels heavy as you buck shamelessly, chasing the heat of his mouth as he tilts his head to tongue-fuck you deeper, the burn of his flesh against yours as he holds you down the only thing truly grounding you at this point.

To his credit, Jesse takes your writhing in stride, accommodating the frantic movements of your hips with firm, but loving caresses as he places a particularly heavy kiss right against your clit that leaves you breathily calling out his name. He lets out a particularly needy groan at the sound, one that vibrates directly across your thrumming bundle of nerves and hits you like a shock of cold water to the face.

You shudder back to reality, head still spinning with the promise of a quickly approaching orgasm, but enough renewed sense to prop yourself up onto shaking elbows to take in the sight of him. Jesse looks just as wrecked as you feel, eyes closed as he revels in the taste and feel of you beneath his tongue and fingers. A single jewel of sweat beads down the prong of his tattoo that reaches his temple in what you're not sure is overexertion, or the strain of keeping his own pursuit of pleasure in check to focus on yours.

He’s all but thrusting desperately into the air as you reach forward to gently grasp his jaw with shaking digits.

“Jesse…” you trail off as you catch the way his chin glistens with what you’re not sure is saliva, your essence, or a lewd concoction of both, “let me make you feel good too.”

He’s slack jawed and glossy-eyed, but his body is oddly pliable as you tug him up towards your face for a sloppy kiss that leaves you both moaning and grasping for the other. You’re the one to break away first, shooting him a wobbly grin as you pant to regain your breath. His fingers find your face this time, cupping your cheek as he gazes at you with such wonder that it leaves you blushing once more. He remains speechless even as you break apart with a kiss to his open palm, positioning your body to crawl down his torso until you’re face-to-head with his arousal. Jesse seems to catch on quickly to your intentions, grasping hold of your hips to position your lower half over his face - even gracing your backside with a light slap that causes you to jolt in surprise. You attempt to flash him a glare, but the feeling of his broad palm soothing over the swell of your ass reduces you to hissing in pleasure instead, spine dipping before you can stop yourself from sinking lower towards his waiting lips.

Determined not to be so easily outdone, you move to flatten the length of your tongue against the head of his cock, delighting in the broken groan that shakes his chest as the taste of precum hits your taste buds. You let a moan of your own vibrate against the length of his cock as you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper into your mouth, the feeling of his hot, panting breath against your cunt spurring you on. Jesse indulges in the feeling of you for a few moments longer before delving right back into eating you out. You can feel his smirk at the squeak of surprise that leaves you as he roughly pulls you back down to sit on his face, tongue lashing skilfully against your clit in a way that forces you to pull him from your mouth with a gasp for air.

It all falls away from you quickly after that, even as you pump at the slick length of his cock and attempt to focus on the way he twitches against your lips. In mere moments, your vision is stolen from you in a sudden rush of pure pleasure that has you half aware that you’re screaming Jesse’s name towards the ceiling. The trooper continues to lavish attention on you through the waves of your orgasm, tongue firmly lathing against the most agonisingly sensitive part of you as he holds you against him with a determinedly steady hand.

He gently drags the grip of his right hand to pet your thigh as you come down in shuddering gasps, the white slowly ebbing from your vision with the effort of a few slow blinks.

“Welcome back.”

Even in such a compromising position as this, he still has the gall to run his mouth.

A calculated squeeze to the base of his cock has that taunt trail off into a hiss.

“You’re unbelievable.” Despite the impassive tone of voice you attempt to force out, you still curl into his touch as he slowly maneuvers your spent body to rest against the pillows once more.

“Yep, but you love it.” He winks as he shifts to support himself above you, those powerful forearms of his now caging your shoulders at each side as he places a chaste kiss against your clammy forehead. You can't help the laughter that spills from you as he moves to suddenly nuzzle into the crook of your neck, stubble tickling your already oversensitive nerves until you're pushing at his chest for him to release you.

“Because I love you, Jess.”

His expression melts at your confession, chest rising and falling in time with your own as he stares at you with such a tender longing that part of you almost feels like crying.

If you could block out the world and just stay like this with him, forever, then you would in a heartbeat. You'd tear down every star in the sky a million times over if it meant keeping him safe and loved.

If only you could.

“I love you, so much, cyare.” The sunny warmth of his grin spreads across the entirety of his face then. It's contagious, and instantly lifts you into giggling alongside him as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against your own.

“...Is this how things went in your dream?” Your heart turns to honey as you reach up to trace the lines of his tattoo where they drape over his cheek.

“This is even better.” He whispers the affirmation against your lips before stealing them in another deep kiss.

He grinds lazily against you as the kiss deepens, threading you ever closer together with a moan that has your hand frantically searching to loop your fingers through his own.

“Jesse,” your voice is strained with desire as the tip of his cock grazes against your entrance once again, “as wonderful as this is, I really want you inside me now.”

That pulls a genuine splutter of laughter from him, but he slips his free hand down to wrap one of your thighs around his waist all the same, shifting to his knees to brace himself against you whilst simultaneously keeping you pinned to the pillow with one hand gripping your own.

“Your wish is my command, my needy little love.”

Your breath leaves you with a sudden yelp as he finally snaps his hips forward and eases into you with a deep thrust, his public bone nestling against the swell of your clit as he buries himself to the hilt in your warmth. You catch his smile split even wider at your reaction before he begins to fuck you in earnest, never one to hold back for too long. The stretch of his cock has your eyes rolling and your free hand clawing at his shoulder for something to grip on to, but your body opens up to him effortlessly.

You’ve danced with him like this so many times now that being connected to him feels as natural as breathing, despite the rolling cries that drip from your parted lips. Jesse drinks them down greedily with a barrage of kisses and growled praise between each thrust.

“That's it baby - keep making those pretty sounds for me.”

He's making plenty of pretty noises of his own, each of them peppered with sigh-like breaths that catch in his throat every time his hips stutter with the threat of losing his last semblance of control.

Hot tears of pleasure begin to gather behind your lashes as you fight to keep your eyes trained on the sight of him pounding into you. Even with the way your mind spins with pleasure, and how the light spilling from the window appears to cling and dance across the deep bronze of his skin in an ever shifting pattern, the thick lines of his tattoo, and the burn of his eyes remain steadfast - streamlining your focus towards the feeling of him grinding upwards against the sweetest spot inside of you again and again until all you can do is babble his name incoherently.

The sight of you coming apart beneath him only pushes him further, though you’re so overwhelmed at this point that you fail to notice how his fingers release your own to dip down between your bodies until the rough pad of his thumb collides with your clit once more.

A second orgasm rips through you with little extra warning - the coil in your stomach snapping so violently that it robs you of any remaining coherency and has you tightening around Jesse’s cock with a silent scream. You hear and feel him hit his peak right behind your own as he tenses with a shout of your name, barely catching himself as he folds over you and buries his cock as deep as he can reach.

And then, warmth: one that spreads across your insides before spilling down the innermost part of your thighs and onto the sheets below.

For a moment, there is only heavy panting as you both struggle to come back down to the present. Jesse breaks whatever silence has crawled between you with a dry-throated chuckle. The hand that had been twisted in the bedsheets beside your head moments before now moves to stroke the back of your head with a clumsy kind of care only Jesse could deliver.

You're still stuffed full of him even as he lifts himself to avoid crushing you, his thumb dipping across the apples of your cheeks to wipe away the loose trails of tears that streak your skin. He clears his throat before speaking, voice tired, but clear enough to reach you.

“You okay?”

You nod in reply, limbs heavy as you raise your arms to loop around his neck and bring him close for a prolonged kiss.

“Need anything?”

You hum in acknowledgment of his concern, but only snuggle closer in response before whispering against the thump of his pulse.

“Only you.”

He chuckles at that before chastely kissing the top of your head and slowly lifting to withdraw from you. You both groan at the loss of contact, but Jesse’s quick to flop down beside you and gather your body up in his arms once more.

“I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, cyar’ika.” He traces over the marks left on your skin with an air of sentimentality, dipping his head to kiss over the particularly dark ones left across your neck and collarbone. They're reminders you’ll grumble about when you’re back in the right frame of mind, but you’ll find yourself cherishing them all the same for as long as they decorate your skin.

“Forever then.” You mumble sleepily against the protection his body extends to you, thoroughly spent in every way.

“Forever it is.”

He’d already made that promise to himself long ago.

#jesse x reader #Jesse x you #arc trooper jesse x reader #clone wars reader insert #clone wars imagine #jesse #mine #cheeky

171 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 2 months

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

17K notes · View notes

behindheremeraldeyes · 3 years

Text

damirae week 2021 tuesday, May 4th - enemies to lovers & dark fantasy/ fairytale

title: bewitched

summary: “There’s a sly and satisfied smirk playing on her lips, and for a moment, he knows she has bewitched him, body and soul. This girl— this demon— is going to be his downfall. " Ao3 // ffnet

It is a moonless night when the most powerful members of the League of Assassins are gathered in the catacombs of the sacred city of Eth Alth’eban. There are at least 20 men wearing dark-green hoods to cover their faces, each holding a lit candle in order to provide just the minimum luminosity for the ceremony that is about to take place. Their leader, Damian Al’Ghul, stands straight as he holds his powerful countenance, his emerald eyes never leaving the deteriorated book in his hands. A conjuring circle has been drawn with the ancient sand of the white desert, and at this moment, all the preparations have been concluded.

At last, the time has come. After spending years studying the dark arts and reading countless manuscripts on the matter, Damian is finally ready to take the next step towards a prosperous future. He is about to do what his predecessors never had the guts to, and with this action, a new era for the League is about to begin. He will make his grandfather proud by rewriting the history of their organization. He will be respected and his name, finally, immortalized.

“From hell, I, Damian Al’Ghul summon thou. Break the gates, unleash thy power and come forward. Step into this world now that the shadows cover this land. Be mine, demon, and my heart shall be yours for eternity.” He closes the book, handling it to one of the servants standing next to him. His hand reaches for the dagger in his belt, and in a fraction of a second, he tears the skin of his right hand. Red blood oozes from the sash and he lets it drip over the circle, tinging the white sand into a bright crimson. “Azarath Metrion Zinthos.”

The last words come as a whisper and a profound silence envelops the room. A couple of seconds pass, and though he can practically touch the thick anxiety of his subordinates around him, there’s no room for hesitation in his core. His pulse suddenly increases and it’s as if he can feel his heart constricting inside his ribcage. It’s not painful, not in the least. In fact, it gives him a feeling of fulfillment, and as he embraces this feeling, the ground beneath his feet starts to shake.

A dust of wind invades the catacombs, the lights of a few candles fading in consequence. Suddenly, an ominous fog swirls inside the circle, delicate at first, but quickly escalating into a dark vortex. Breathing gets harder, as if all the oxygen is quickly vanishing, and from the corner of his eyes, he can see some of the elder man falling on their knees, holding their throats and gasping for air. He doesn’t move, though. He can’t, for his feet are suddenly too heavy and something tells him he shouldn’t move a single muscle.

So he doesn’t. He stands his ground for what feels like an eternity, but eventually, the turmoil ceases and a dark sphere appears over the circle, floating steadily. His ears capture the sound of his men recovering, and some even take a step closer to him, as if to offer their prince some support. They have their blades ready, but Damian knows they won’t do anything unless he commands them to. There’s no need for violence. At least not yet.

After almost a full minute, the orb then dissolves and a small figure is now kneeled on the floor, the runes of the circle now shinning with a purple aura. His men are left in pure awe at the scene in front of them, but Damian doesn’t let those feelings take over him. His eyes are slowly studying the figure, and it doesn’t take long for him to realize the demon he has summoned has a human form— the form of a woman, apparently.

Her head is lowered, dark hair falling forward. She’s naked, her bare skin pale as the finest porcelain and slim curves outlining her figure. Her arms are wrapped across her chest in a protective way, and he is quick to notice the way she’s shivering. She’s cold, he thinks. It’s mid winter here, and perhaps, she must still be used to the warmer temperatures of hell.

“Bring me a source of fire. Now.” He orders, and his subordinates don’t question, quickly lighting a brazier. In a swift move, then, Damian unbuttons the cape that falls over his shoulders and wraps it around her. He’s crouched now, his feet invading the circle and his face just a few inches away from hers. When he reaches out for her now covered shoulder, she trembles under his touch. His eyes squint a bit, and slowly, he watches as she finally lifts her face.

Their eyes are connected now. His emeralds and her amethyst clashing and he can’t find it in himself to look away. She’s enticing, seductive, even. Her eyes are as deep as autumn’s starry skies, and her rosy lips are slowly parting as she studies his expression. There’s a red crystal on her forehead, and it’s as if flames are dancing inside of it.

Damian is mesmerized by her ethereal beauty. She’s probably the most beautiful creature he has ever seen, and for a moment, her pure looks make him forget that she is, in fact, a demon. A demon he has summoned to help him achieve his goals.

Once realization strikes him back, he blinks and breaks eye contact. He stands up, his imposing figure now towering over her body as he reaches out, offering his hand to help her stand. At first, her eyes are just staring at him, but eventually, she accepts his gesture and he can properly feel her icy touch clashing against his warm skin. Though her legs are still shaky, she manages to stand up, and as expected, she’s smaller than him. She lets go of his hand once she’s confident enough to stand alone, and though her eyes were only filled with confusion until this point, now, he can see a new flame behind her irises.

She’s examining her surroundings now, and he wonders if she’s either planning a way to escape or to kill all of them— for their sake, he hopes it’s not the latter. The demoness takes a deep breath, then, and her attention returns to him.

“So you’re the one who’s summoned me.” Her voice is low, almost velvety, and he senses an inch of growing confidence in it.

“Yes.” He confirms. “You will help me achieve my goals.” His eyes are determined as those words roll out of his tongue, and that determination evokes a smirk on her lips.

“Oh, is that so? How can you be so sure of that? Tell me what’s stopping me from killing you and all of your men?”

The lack of hesitation in her voice causes a turmoil in his men, and they were quick to unsheathe their blades. Rage fills their hearts, and their blood-thirst is almost palpable now.

“Just say the word, your majesty.” One of them says, and it’s clear that they only need the minimum approval from Damian to slit her throat.

“Is this your pathetic excuse for backup?” She huffs, not bothering to spare them a single glance. They’re growing more irritated, but she pays them no mind. ”I see why you needed a demon, then.”

“You devil creature! How dare yo— “

“Enough.” He says, firmly, with a reprimanding tone towards his men. If anything, he won’t let them fall for her tricky games so easily. He’s glaring at her now, yet she doesn’t seem intimidated by him in the least. “If you wanted us dead, you would’ve done it by now.”

“Very astute, your majesty.” She mocks, finally turning her amethyst orbs to his men. “At ease, gentlemen. No one needs to die here tonight. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to speak alone with you, Damian Al’Ghul.”

“Very well.” He turns to his men. “You can leave now.”

“What?! Master Damian, we shouldn’t have done this. We can just kill her and get back to the way we were before. We can—“

“Don’t you dare finish this sentence, sergeant.” He speaks, harshly. “I forbid you or anyone else in this facility to bring her any harm. Have I made myself clear?” There’s a screaming silence after his words, but eventually, his men bow their heads in acceptance. Hands are clenched into tight fists, and at last, her smirk fades from her face. For that, Damian is thankful.

In less than a second, all the men surrounding them leave the room. The light from the lit fire outlines their silhouettes as they now stand face to face. She’s still wrapped around his green and golden cape, and there’s a serious expression decorating her features now.

“So, Damian…” She starts, squinting her eyes in defiance. With her powers, the magic book he’s used to conjure the spells comes floating to her hands, and she’s quick to start flipping through its dusty pages. “You might be aware of this already, but you have used a pretty powerful grimoire to summon a demon like me. The mage who wrote this spells certainly knew what he was doing, for he’s found a way to turn the tables against us, evil creatures.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we can’t just fool you, humans, into doing whatever we want like we’ve been doing for the past centuries.” She smirks. “At least not so easily anymore. With the spells in this book, giving you my real name or stuff like that makes absolutely no difference.”

“And what is it? Your name, I mean.”

Her eyes stare at him for a while, and though she takes a couple of seconds to try and read him, eventually, she gives in. “Raven. You can call me Raven.”

“Raven.” He tests her name in his own voice, and unconsciously, he finds himself enjoying the way it rolls out of his tongue. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine.” She replies, finally closing the book with a loud noise. “Well, you’ve summoned me from the depths of hell, Damian. You don’t need to tell me your reasons for it, but please, do tell me, what is it that you want me to do? How can I serve you?”

He nods at her, and even if Damian knows better than to simply trust a demon, he believes she’s being genuine. Though there are still a lot of things he has yet to learn about dark magic, he knows that the book he’s used gives him the higher ground against her. There are taming spells there that can subdue her to his wills, and if anything, she’s not allowed to kill him. They’re bound together for as long as he wants to, and giving her his heart in exchange for that felt quite acceptable.

They’re each holding the strings of each other’s lives, and with that, he believes they will find balance.

“I want what all the humans in my position want, Raven. I want enough power to protect my man and the things we stand for. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Nothing more, huh?” Her brows quirk, and she takes a few steps closer to him. Her eyes are on his, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t spot a certain curiosity in her demeanor. “Don’t you want to rule the world, Damian? Don’t you want to be feared by nations and create your own empire?”

“No.” He says, promptly. “A true leader should not be feared, but respected.”

“How very honorable for a human.” She teases, finally returning the book to him. “But this is none of my business. I’m in no position to defy your wishes. I’m bound to consent if that’s what you want.”

She turns away from him, then, and he watches as his cape dances around her slim legs. She stretches her arms and neck, and that’s when he reminds himself that, even if she’s a creature from hell, Raven still has her own wishes and desires. They’ve made a contract, and even if the odds are in his favor, there must be something in it for her, too. He refuses to believe that a human heart is enough to pay for what could be a life of servitude.

The leader of the Assassins takes a deep breath, then, as he decides to venture unexplored territory. His intentions are noble— at least he thinks they are— and he doesn’t hesitate before speaking. “And what is it that you want, Raven?”

“Me?” She asks, curiosity lacing her voice. She turns to face him once more, and he catches a glimpse of interest in her amethyst eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I’m asking you what is it that you want. What will you get from helping me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asks, her tongue instinctively running across her lower lip. “I’ll be finally free, Damian.”

“Free?” He arcs his brows as he tries to understand her words. “Can you really be free while bounded to a human?”

“You humans have a very idealistic sense of freedom. We are bound together, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean you’re taking away my freedom. It’s quite the opposite, in fact.”

“How so?”

“You took me away from hell, Damian. And though it might not be the worst place for us, demons, it’s still pretty hard not to lose control when all of those suffering souls are screaming inside your head.” She smiles, weakly, but genuinely. “Now that I’m only connected to you, it’s easier to think straight. My mind isn’t crowded anymore, and that alone sets me free. If you are to put me in a cage for the rest of your life, so be it. At least I will some peace.”

His lips go agape after her words, and he feels his heart skipping a beat. Though he initially believed to know enough about demons due to his previous studies, Damian now knows that there’s a lot more about them he has yet to understand. They’re creatures with thoughts and emotions, and some of them might still carry some traces of humanity. Though malice and wickedness might prevail in their core, perhaps— just perhaps— some of them can come to comprehend feelings such as mercy and happiness.

Perhaps, together, they can eventually comprehend the meaning of love.

The heart inside his chest, though no longer his, beats faster as his eyes continue to stare at her. A sense of dignity and justice takes over him, and before he knows it, his hand is already placed over her shoulder. His touch is tender, and he watches as bewilderment spreads around her face. “You won’t be trapped in a cage, Raven. I want you to rule by my side, and we will stand together against whatever might come for us. I will give you anything you might desire. I will keep you safe.”

As his words sink in, a slow smile takes over her lips, and she uses her right hand to remove his from her shoulder. “A human protecting a demon… How amusing.” Her small fingers are now holding his, and he notices how foreign her touch feels. Still, she’s gentle. “Not trapping a demon in a cage, huh… You might regret this decision later, Damian.”

“I won’t.” He nods, his grip on her fingers tightening. “You will be free by my side. I give you my word.”

His promises come out almost as a whisper, and he watches as her expression, though still very strict, shows signs of excitement. Her amethyst eyes seem to shine brighter now, and her thin lips are slowly turning upwards. Right now, Damian is captivated by her genuine beauty and he can’t control the sudden desire to have her that has grown inside of him. Perhaps it’s part of the original contract or even a curse she’s putting on him. Whatever it is, he can’t find it in himself to fight against this urge.

Raven blinks one more time, and slowly, her hand slides from his and she’s now cupping his cheek. Her thumb slides across his olive skin, and he can’t help but allow the weight of his head to rest over her palm. Their eyes are connected and he can feel a soft breeze coming from her slightly parted lips. She’s incredibly close now. So close that if he leans in, his lips might brush hers. The thought of kissing her crosses his mind, and though it might seem too misplaced, it’s not completely absurd.

She’s the owner of his heart, after all. Though the meaning of it might not be the same for her, he is still human. He is still a man.

“Raven, I—“

“Shh…” She silences him, her eyes now only half opened. “Don’t say anything you might regret later.”

“I— “

Before he can even finish his words, Raven is the one who closes the gap between them. Her lips are pressed firmly against his in a soft and chaste kiss, and his body is quick to respond to her action. His arm slowly snakes around her small body, bringing her closer so they can deepen the kiss. Damian can feel the curves of her bare breasts against his chest and he can feel his body warming up at her touch.

Their tongues brush softly against one another, and once he adds a little roughness to the kiss, he’s able to elicit a soft moan from the depths of her throat. She responds to him promptly, their lips moving in perfect synchrony. Though it might not be natural for two extremely different creatures to engage in such actions, the desire running through his veins seems to be controlling his movements, and he doesn’t think he has the strength to break free.

His mind is revolving around her right now, and though it might feel a little clouded, Damian doesn’t think he has ever felt more powerful or sane in his entire life. He can barely feel his own heart beating anymore, but the power that now courses through his body is making him feel incredibly alive.

What is she doing to him? He doesn’t know, not really. However, he doesn’t really care about it right now.

He’s entranced by her, and there’s no turning back anymore. At least not until his heart stops beating.

His need for air forces him to retreat momentarily, their foreheads resting against one another. His lungs are desperate for fresh air, and judging by the way her ribcage is moving fast, he assumes she’s just as needy.

“What have you done to me?” He asks, still breathless. The turmoil inside his body seems to be fading, and at last, he can think straight again.

“Nothing your heart didn’t wish for, Damian.” Raven answers, sliding her hand across his chest, until it’s placed over his heart. She can feel it beating against her palm, and he notices how focused she seems. There’s a sly and satisfied smirk playing on her lips, and for a moment, he knows she has bewitched him, body and soul. This girl— this demon— is going to be his downfall.

And the worst part is that he’s looking forward to it.

fin.

----------

a/n: day 2 and here we are! Ngl, I had this idea while watching a weird show and I’m pretty happy with the result. Both Raven and Damian are such amazing characters to play with, and I think it’s our duty as shippers to explore them and their love. Well, what did you think? Hope you’ve enjoyed it! Thank you for reading it, and see ya!

#damirae #damirae week 2021 #demonbirds #damian x raven #damian wayne & raven #mydamiraefics

65 notes · View notes

pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 3)

(Gif credit to @whenimaunicorn)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader (eventual)

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: The usual :)

A/N: Words cannot express how much it means to hear back and to know people actually like this mess I’m writing. Thank you so so so much! I hope you all enjoy, and again, thank you.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius (Thank you so fucking much for your support and your comments btw, it means the world. You’re amazing!)

“So, Priestess.” You hear behind you, jumping back with a yelp and almost dropping the scroll you held in your hands.

You turn around to find the Viking King standing by your doorway, leaning heavily on his crutch and looking at you with a small smug smile on his face.

“A gentleman would knock.” You say around a small smile of your own, and leave the rolled-up map on a nearby end table before motioning for a chair and sitting in one nearby. It shouldn’t be so easy, so familiar, letting him into your space.

“You should know better.”

“I didn’t expect to see you again.” You confess without hesitation, looking into his pale eyes that reflect the stubborn light of the candles in the room around you.

“I have nothing but my brother and Christians to talk to in this city,” He dismisses easily, a gesture of his hand as he takes a seat near you. Your eyes, curious, follow the agile movements of his left hand as he maneuvers the crutch on his side to rest nearby. “You are far better company.”

“Thank you, I think,” You say, biting your lip to keep your stupid mouth from smiling and the foolish bashfulness from showing on your expression. Apparently, it does regardless, judging by the pleased look on the Viking’s face. Clearing your throat, you steal a glance to the closed door and state, “You do know you are scandalizing half a city right now, don’t you?”

“I am?” Based on his smug look, he knows, but you speak anyways.

“I am already called a witch,” You explain, “Do you know what it will do to my reputation if they are to see a Viking enter my home?”

“And you care for your reputation?”

“Any lady would care about her reputation!” You pretend to be scandalized, before rolling your eyes at yourself. You delight yourself in the small huff that leaves the man’s lips, what could be a laugh if given just enough room to breathe.

“The Saxons,” He starts, leaning the side of his body on the table, “You said they call you a witch.”

“A woman that worships the Gods of the Dead is usually labeled such a thing,” You offer with a small shrug. After a breath of hesitation, you dare tease, “Are you one to believe Stithulf’s tales that I can bewitch men to their deaths? Blind them and have them follow my every whim?”

He keeps pale eyes on you, studying you quietly for a few moments before rescinding, closing his eyes in a slow blink and murmuring,

"Not through magic,” Before you have a chance to ask what he means by that, he motions for a place behind you and asks, “What is that?”

You twist on your seat to where he points and see he means the scroll you…borrowed from Leofric. Stretching on your seat, you grab onto the old paper and open it on the table.

The colors are faded, and to what you understand is not very accurate, but you have been growing restless here and you wanted to at least learn something other than defeat here.

“What do you need a map for?” The Viking frowns, rough fingers placed over the edges of the map you cannot hold and helping you smooth it over the table.

You know if he were to think of you as a Greek Anassa before anything else, he would be on his guard about you by now, because after all, it is a foreign leader looking to know the outline of his homeland. But he isn’t.

Because that’s what you agreed upon, right? No names and no identities past this door, no future or present outside of this disgusting little hut. But your people need to leave this village, they need to be away from Stithulf’s ambitious hands, from Leofric’s egotistical God.

Stealing a hand back to put a lock of hair behind your ear, you offer, “Knowing where on this earth the Gods have taken us?” You grimace at your own words. As if the Gods would want this. Regardless, you swallow past the bitterness of the soft lie and continue explaining, “I…don’t know where I am. I mean, I know there’s no point in knowing, but I don’t…”

He silences you with a point of his finger, eyes inquisitive and always demanding when they look over your face but still quiet, offering you the location and name of the city with a point of his finger.

Your eyes look over the seas and rivers drawn there, and even if it all feels so fucking foreign and strange and unforgiving, at least knowing where in this world the last of the Attics have perished, what hills and what rivers bury their unfortunate bodies; brings you a little peace.

For a moment there’s a flare of a thought, an errant idea, of how maybe, just maybe, this strange man turned King, in all his faults and fame; could be easily played with. You lured a Greek Strategus into laying an army at your feet, surely you could get something out of the Viking before your life reached its untimely end.

The few Attics that have survived the hell of these last weeks could benefit from whatever aid you can get the King to-…

No.

You shake those thoughts off quickly enough. You have regretted your lies before, you have promise to be honest and be true because you cannot stomach the mere possibility that one day you will look at your reflection and not recognize who you are past all the lies and the masks.

So, you look into the Varangian’s pale blue eyes, and offer sincerely, “Thank you.”

He ignores your words, you don’t know whether because he has no interest in your gratitude or because he does not know how to answer to it.

Instead, he asks, “How do you know how to read a map?”

“You ask me that and not how I speak your language? Or know of your Gods?” You reply, eyebrows raised. The Viking shrugs, conceding, but his eyes remain with the same inquisitive glint, demanding his answers. With a sigh, you offer, “There’s…Varangians where I am from. When my mother was killed, what you call a shieldmaiden took me in and raised me as her own.”

“What was her name?”

“Is,” You correct with a small frown, “Sieghild is very much alive.”

“Would I know of her?” He asks, and you narrow your eyes at him. The Viking explains, “A shieldmaiden that lived all the way in the Mediterranean, surely she has her own share of fame.”

“That’s her story to tell, not mine.”

And the candles burn on, and you two continue talking about whatever comes to mind. You don’t ask about what happens in this city, he doesn’t ask -much- about what brought you and your people here. He doesn’t ask your name again, and you make a point of avoiding saying his.

Somehow, you made the mistake of telling him about Keres, and their fame as angels of violent deaths that scour the battlefields; and now the Viking won’t stop insisting that they are just Valkyries with different names.

“But you know of the Valkyries.” He insists, a frown in his brow and his nose.

“I do.”

“Then why do you call them with a different name?”

“Keres are not Valkyries.”

“They sound very alike, Priestess,” His mouth curves downwards in an exaggerated gesture and he shrugs his shoulders. “It sounds to me that you Greeks just like changing the names of things.”

Even if you should be offended all you do is smile, “What?”

“Barangoi,” He offers, a tilt of his head. “You could just say Viking.”

“And you could just say Keres instead of Valkyries.”

“Ah!” He points a finger at you, “So you admit they are one and the same.”

“I don’t follow your Gods, Barangoi,” You remind him, but he just tilts his head to the side and looks away. Before you can help yourself, you point out, “Your Greek is horrible, by the way.”

“Well, I haven’t had time to find a teacher.”

____

“I will leave this sad excuse for a city, just for a few days,” Sieghild promises that night, her eyes on the fire but you can see her soul reaching for her shield.

“Do you think it is safe?”

“Who should I fear? The few Saxons smart enough to train like Arabs? The last remnants of the once mighty Great Heathen Army?” She scoffs, her words intending to dismiss your fear even if she has just listed the reasons you worry for her life when she leaves.

“Neither would have any qualms about killing you.” You point out dryly.

The shieldmaiden rolls her shoulders, something akin to bloodthirst in her smile, “Let them try.”

“And I’m the foolish one.” You mutter around a roll of your eyes.

The woman chuckles quietly, “I told you I have some questions I need answered. You are not the only one with ties to the Gods, little one.”

“Never said that I was. Based on your tales, the sons of one of the most famous Völvas are at the gates, mother.” You quip dryly, reaching for the goblet of water and wishing you could call upon the Christian God and turn it into wine.

“The gates, little one?” Sieghild muses, and you frown at her in confusion over the rim of your cup. With a shrug, she explains, “I have seen a son of Aslaug going in and out of your little hut multiple times now.”

Shit. You cough abruptly when the water goes the wrong way, but play it off and look again at the flames.

“I have no idea who you are talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” She teases, a strange weight in her voice. She stands up, reaching for her trusted shield and putting it at her back as she grabs one of the fur cloaks by you. You keep your eyes ahead, but feel her presence at your back, and hear her lighthearted voice, “Sometimes, I sit by myself and think how your mother must be screaming her head off at me from her Elysium.”

You laugh, and it feels light and free, craning your head back to look at the shieldmaiden. She places a heavy hand on your hair, rough fingers attempting to run through it; the gesture so reminiscent of your childhood.

“Why?”

“She had this beautiful little girl, blessed by the Gods, noble in blood and in heart,” She recalls, “And I turned that child into the mad woman that likes spending her evenings with Ivar the Boneless.”

You shake your head at her words, closing your eyes and resting the back of your head on her stomach.

“Of all the things I have done, you truly believe talking to a Varangian King would be what my mother would take issue with?” You ask her, and the shieldmaiden grumbles an agreement, remaining silent for a short while.

“I will be back soon. Be careful, yes?” You nod. Sieghild traces around the wound in your forehead and sighs, “Your Gods and mine keep you, little one.”

“Your Gods and mine, mother.” You answer with a small smile, the exchange as old as goodbye.

She leaves you to your thoughts with a firm kiss pressed to the crown of your head, and you stay there, by the fire, wondering what will happen when the Varangians leave.

But turns out you don’t have to think much about what will happen when the Vikings collect their prizes, when the Saxons retreat back to England, when you will be left with three hundred Greeks and nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait for death; for the talks are exceedingly long, and almost a week has passed and still the Vikings make camp in this city, still Stithulf meets with Varangians daily, still the Viking King makes his way with his crutch and his uneven steps to your door.

The King himself is a vexing contradiction. Cruel, arrogant, and explosive; like seldom you have seen, even if most of the time his vitriol is not directed at you. Yet dedicated, intelligent, and, at least sometimes, hinting at someone that wants to give but does not know how to.

He manages to make you despise him as easily as he makes you admire him, hate presence in your mind and find yourself missing his voice or his expressive eyes when he’s not there.

You were never one to bite your tongue, and even if pain clogs your throat your memories leave your lips with ease, but Ivar…Ivar gives pieces of himself away like crumbs that fall from his so tightly-clasped hands. It is as if he couldn’t stop himself from giving away those little pieces, but at the same time dismisses the truths and cracks in the armor as soon as you make a slight mention of them.

He tells you about his mother, of her love and because happiness cannot be remembered without the biting sting of pain, of her absence. He tells you of his vow to kill his mother’s killer, and the look in his Greek Fire-like eyes when he does gives you a more certain prophecy than the Gods’ at to what destiny holds for the shieldmaiden. He tells you of the boatbuilder, of the man that did so much to make him who he is today, and if nostalgia paints the tales he weaves you say nothing.

Ivar now knows a lot about you as well, because when you meet daily with a stubborn man with no restrictions in his questions, you are bound to give away a lot of yourself. You tell him about the Christians of Attica, of their flames lapping at your legs and back, and if he understands a little more of your darkness then so be it. You tell him of Sieghild and her ways, of years at her side, of being taught how to wage and stop war, of her tales of this land so far away from where you were it seemed like a different realm. You tell him of life under the sigil of Persephone, you tell him secrets you have not dared tell a soul before, of the woman in the red veil and her warm darkness.

When you see him wince for the third time since he has sat down today, and hear the barely-there grunt of pain, you hope he doesn’t take this as offense -your times near Kiev when you were growing up reminds you strikingly of how particular Varangians are when it comes to pain- and reach for a marked leather pouch in one of your bags.

Grabbing onto a reasonable piece of willow bark, you turn back to the Viking and extend your hand. His eyes go from your hand to your face, but surprisingly enough you are not that bothered by the cold distrust as you thought you should be.

“Chewing on it helps with pain.” Is all you tell him in answer to his silent question.

He takes it with the mistrust, the annoyed hesitation, that are in such a way his that you fear you would never be able to see the somewhat-narrowed eyes, the movement of the head, the piercing glare, without thinking of him any longer.

It takes a moment, and an exasperated lift of your eyebrows for the warrior to finally bite into the softened bark. After a moment, because of course he would, the Viking asks, “How did you know?”

“I have to be attuned to others’ pain to be a healer, Viking,” You answer simply, settling back in your seat and draping the cloak over your legs. “You have healers where you are from.”

“Usually they are Völur.”

You shake your head with a small chuckle, “I am not a seeress.”

“But your Gods speak to you.”

You frown, “Scarcely of the future. The sight I have is regarding…the past, or sometimes present. Related to death, as per my Gods’ realm.”

In all his stubbornness, there’s a hint of fearlessness, more than a hint of courage; that almost whisper to you what he will ask for way before the words are to leave his lips.

The Viking stands up with a small grimace, and leaning on his crutch stands before you, “Prove it.”

“Are you certain?” You ask, again already aware of the answer he will give. When he nods, you take a deep breath and toe off your simple sandals. If the Viking takes note of the strange choice to have your bare feet on the cold ground, he does not mention it.

You stand as well, for a moment feeling Eleusis’ warm grasslands underneath your feet instead of the cold wood of a Scandinavian home, and face the Viking.

He holds himself still, so much so that you may for a moment confuse him with a marble statue. One that you can choose to admire or to break with a single push.

With the closeness, looking up at the cruel and handsome visage of Kattegat’s King, you realize what the pull of darkness you noticed surrounding him when you first saw him was.

Past the bloodthirst, past the cruelty and the vitriol; you catch a glimpse of something else.

A whisper not unlike the one that so long ago, when Sieghild offered to take you to the Danes, told you to await a few days in Sicily. That same night the news on the Saracen warriors threatening Athens with an onslaught of raids reached your ears, and instead of sailing North you returned to Greece.

Your eyes meet his, and a strange familiarity reaches you like a memory, like the phantom caress of a worn piece of silk over cold skin.

“You died, not long ago. You crossed into the realm of death and came back, and not only then, even in the womb the Gods debated your survival. Chosen by Hades.” The last words leave your lips in Greek, realization settling within you as you speak. You force your tongue back to his language when you continue, “You survived all those times because the Gods were not done with you and you know this, but you are not certain what the purpose they spared your life for is.

Without thinking, you move even closer, your head tilted back to stare at his pale eyes.

Your voice is a whisper in itself when you promise, “Your Gods have heard you beg to know the reason behind your pain, Ivar.”

There’s a flare of anger in his eyes, a snarl forming in his lips and they are the only warnings you have before the Viking’s hand closes around your throat.

You are dragged closer, rough fingers clawing at your neck and you cannot keep your mouth from opening in a gasp, your hand uselessly tugging at the King’s arm.

But you can still breathe, you notice past your panicked breaths. You feel your mouth dry, your heart quicken, but you do not fight back, even if your scared mind begs you to.

“Sieghild.” You whisper. You are not certain why you speak so lowly, but something tells you that you should.

The woman turns to you, and when her footsteps stop as she realizes what you wanted her to see, it seems the whole forest freezes. The wind doesn’t rustle the leaves, the birds do not sing, the distant stream stops its course.

It all seems to hold its breath alongside you, waiting for the injured beast’s move.

“Do not move,” Sieghild advises, “Do not cower or it will attack.”

You tighten your hand around the bow and stare back at the lynx’s wild eyes with a courage you do not have.

When the King leans even closer, you feel like a young girl holding a bow and praying the beast does not attack. Praying it mistakes your relentlessness with ruthlessness, and thinks twice about harming you.

“You will keep your visions to yourself, Priestess.”

And it’s the arrogance, the pride, the command, what gets the blood under your skin to a boil. You may not be able to overpower him, but the very Underworld may welcome you home before you bow down to a brute.

Your hand finds his wrist, nails digging lightly at the skin as you meet his gaze with the defiance not even the constricting rules of Attica could extinguish.

You reply to his threat with narrowed eyes. “You will get your hand off me, Viking.”

Surprisingly enough, he does, but keeps his burning eyes on yours and still towers above you.

“You asked.” You remind him. Because you have to swallow down other words, other reminders. You obeyed.

“How are you so sure it’s not the Norns telling you this? How does this not make you a Völva?” He asks, and past the venom and the volatility there’s a genuine question, you like to think.

“Maybe they are, maybe both our Gods are one and the same, but take different names,” You offer, “But I am not one of your seeresses, Viking. I am Hiereia.”

___

Hi! Thank you so much for reading! I’m sorry I wasn’t very regular, but now I’m gonna be. Probably Saturdays or Sundays are gonna be the days I post, btw.

I know I’m taking my sweet ass time getting to the abduction part of the abduction myth lol, but I hav my reasons. Or maybe I just like to ramble, and my stories do the same, who knows.

Anyways, just wanted to say I appreciate you all so much for reading! It really means a lot to know that people are reading this and liking it.

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar x reader #vikings imagine #vikings #νοσταλγία masterlist #νοσταλγία

146 notes · View notes

xoxo-nikki-xoxo · 4 years

Text

Bewitched

Elijah Mikaelson × Female Reader

Prompts number 21 22 "Tell me... if you love me or not. If not I'll leave you alone forever" and "You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love you"

Authors note: I totally based this fic off of Jane Austins Pride and Prejudice. Elijah just totally give me Mr. Darcy vibes. Sorry if you don’t understand that reference. So this fic to by best of abilities is going to be written in the time line of the late 17th century and early 18th century. FYI sorry if this sucks, i truly did try my best.

-----------------------------------------------

Words cant even descried how your feelings for Elijah Mikaelson has changed in the course of only a few months. From when you first met him he was so stuck up, egotistical, and well complete and utterly rude. But it was I that was wrong about him. For Mr. Mikaelson pride might be what you see be wrong, but its for his pride that makes him unique.

Sitting on the porch engulfed in a bool as I usual am, I received word of a visitor. For it is Miss. Mikaelson arriving by carriage.

“ Dear Miss. y/n, you must come with me at once! I know you have already received your invitation to our ball this evening, but i need if if you are not to busy. It was my wretched bother Kol! He ruined my beautiful ball gowned now i must go fetch myself a new one! With this being announced i need your assistance to help me pick out the 2nd best. And I thought well we were at is we pick out a new dress for you.” Rebekah say as she steps out of the carriage with the help of the carriage driver.

“ O Rebekah darling you know i well help you select a new gowned. But i don’t think i can accept-”

“ Don’t finish that sentence we are picking new dresses out and that’s final. Wheres your mother? I surly must say hello before i take you for the rest of the afternoon” she says as she makes her way up onto the porch. The Mikaelson family has been staying in New Orleans for about 6 months now. Your first glimpse of the family was of course arranged by your family, more so your mother then father. But that’s when your friendship with the youngest Mikaelson truly took off. Of course by the moment you where introduced to Niklaus, Elijah and Kol, you were taken back by the pride the men in the family. More so Elijah then the others. Niklaus was the most polite, asking for your hand in the first dance, Kol was nice ,but excused himself the moment he had the chance. For some reason i just could never truly get Elijah out of my mind. His character was so not normal it was brain wrecking. Not saying hello at first but only making slight comments during conversations with other people.

“ okay fine, but only because you said so. Ma is probably in the drawing room tending to my younger sister” you stand up politely bowing to Rebekah as you two make your way into the house for a simple hello and goodbye.

-----------------------

“ Oh dear y/n! That is the one!! The blush pink color is your color, and if my foolish brother, Elijah doesn't make a gesture tonight well ill have to simple slap him myself because you are going to look stunning tonight” Rebekah says standing up clapping when you came out of the dressing room in this beautiful pink dress.

“ Rebekah!”

“O don’t Rebekah me! I know you fancy my brother, don’t worry love he fancies you too.”

“ Well he has a terrible way of showing it” You turn to face the mirror admiring yourself in this dress. If it wasn't for Rebekah being who she is you would have never dared to step into this dress. the waist fitting perfectly around you, the top showing off slight cleavage ,but not enough where it became inappropriate. The dress was everything and perfect.

“ My poor oldest brother... He has an odd way of showing his feelings to anyone outside of the family. So don’t be so uptight, and trust me when i say he truly dose have his eyes set on you” Rebekah smiles going over to me for a quick hug.

“ Now enough of this talking, we still have to figure out a dress for me!” She adds. I simple smile bowing slightly before i make my way back to the dressing room to take the dress off. once it is off i make my way back into the fitting area sitting down where Rebekah had once sat waiting my dress reveal. After 4 different dresses she finally comes out.

“ This is it, this dress if the one. Hope fully this well catch the eye of the governors son” Rebekah says smiling as she comes out twirling in her dress with her ever so perfect smile.

“ Your out of your sense, the poor governors boy has been totally bewitched by you. If its anyone stopping him from coming forward its your brothers, they would probably kill the poor soul before he could even say Rebe-” you tease giggling as she threw some gloves at you.

“ I cant believe you would stoop to the level of throwing my crazy brothers in my face like that” Bek’s says causing you to giggle even more.

“ Well I think that dress makes you look ravishing, I think its best we get heading to your estate where well finish getting ready” You say standing up to help her with the dress.

----------------------------------------

“ Ah welcome Miss. Y/N i see my lovey sister has been torturing you with gown shopping” Niklaus says smiling at me with his lips as he greets both me and Rebekah at the fount door to their gorgeous estate.

“ Good evening to you too Mr. Mikealson. And it wasn't tortures at it, it was quite lovely actually. Rebekah and I both picked out new ball gowns for the ball that’s coming up in a short few hour”

“ ah yes speaking of that ball we must start getting ready too. Don’t be such a bloody wanker either Nik, us girls just want to have fun that’s all. Plus if maybe you smile more often there would be more women that would like to dance with you”

“ Oh course well my apologize sister, but would if it be alright with you Miss.y/n if i have a quick word with my youngest sister. She well be right there to accompany you with getting ready” and with a simple bow and curtsy both were off to the den to talk privately. I have curtsy back as i headed up the grand stair case to the fitting room I've grown to be so accustomed too. This house, this marvelous house.. My poor mind, it wonders to where he might be. He has to be in this house somewhere.

As i descend upon the stairs i can hear footsteps, my heart beat picking up at the anticipation of being able to see the noble man of the house, Elijah. “ good evening, Miss. y/n. I wasn't expecting any visitors so early before the party” Elijah say, i must have caught him off guard with my appearance.

“My apologizing for catching you off guard Mr. Mikaelson.. You dear sister invited me here earl to help her get ready for today's event” i bow as soon as i start my sentence.

“ Well it seems as though I’m the one who needs to apologizes, Forgive me” He says taking my hand gently into his giving it a soft kiss before leaving me to the room I was headed too. Of course my interaction with Elijah made me blush as i walk to the room being escorted by one of the many helpers around the house, the lady was carrying both Rebekah and I’s dress.

“ Sorry about that little interruption, I had to inform Niklaus about someone i heard conspiring against us. You understand. Now enough of that lets get ready for this ball!” Rebekah announces once she comes into the room where i was awaiting her. I smile nodding, but the only imagine i have in my head is of Elijah. More importantly his lips on my hand. O those soft pink lips, i wish to have them on me all the time.

----------------------------------------

The ball is as exquisite as i could have ever imagine it. Being involved with such a high social rank as the Mikaelson family is such a privilege to my family and I. For right now i am currently in a conversation with both Rebekah, Niklaus and well of course my father.

“ You must excuse us Mr. y/l/n its time for the toast” Niklaus says nodding slightly to my father as he leads Rebekah up the stairs to where the other sidings reside. Of course I make eye contact with Elijah causing a blush to spread across my face. He warm smile to me cause the blush to deepen

“ During times like this its truly time to celebrate family and friend its especially gratifying in times when treachery run deep to know you have someone you can trust. A toast to you, my sister, to Rebekah.” Klaus announces raising his champagne glass as we toast. I smile watching confused at first when i see Kol turn a whiter shade of white before he runs off. Niklaus must have been speaking of Kol in his foreshadowing of his speech. As speechless as everyone was I truly wasn't, knowing who the family is it comes to be no surprise when i watch Nik and Elijah corner Kol

“Apologizes ladies and gentlemen for it wouldn't be a Mikaelson party without a little family drama” Nik announces and in one swift movement shoving a silver dagger into kols heart. I flinch of course, turning away heading to the door to get some fresh air. Stepping out to the cool breeze of the night is refreshing. The moon and stair are shining bright.

“ Forgive me, Miss. Y/n, but may I accompany you on a late night walk” Its his voice, there’s no need to ask who it is talking to me. Hes holding his hand out to me, so of course i accept.

“ It would be a shame if i said no wouldn’t it?” I respond smiling turning to face him putting my small hand into his ever so large one.

“ You have to know that what you witness a few minutes ago i wish i would not have to done in the eyes of the public.” our stroll begins as we walk threw the garden they have out front.

“ no need for apologizing, though it was a shame to see...” I simple respond holding onto his arm as we walk

“ I must confess something to you though Miss. Y/N, We’ve both been feeling a certain way for each other and i must say it out load before it eats me alive *Stops walking as he puts his hand on your cheek* I l- I love you Y/N. Tell me... if you love me or not. If not I'll leave you alone forever" as hes confessing i cant help but smile, hes so perfect. His face, him himself must have been sculpted from the gods and he love me. Me?

“ Elijah, I have loved you sense the day we meet, you have bewitched me body and soul, and i- i- i love you. There’s a reason why i kept coming back... it was for you” and with that we share our first kiss. His lips soft, the smell of nutmeg running nose filling me up. The kiss its passionate, full of all the unspoken words we have yet to tell each other. Pulling away just enough so we both can catch our breath. Our foreheads resting up against each other as we enjoy this moment.

“ I have been waiting for your kiss forever” He whispers softly as he leans in again to engulf me in another perfect kiss

“ Finally you two confuses your feelings, only took you both almost a year” Rebekah shouts out cause me to giggle into the kiss i share with him.

He chuckles hearing his sister remarks “ I must say, you look quite beautiful this evening y/n” Elijah says smiling softy as he tucks a lose piece of hair behind my face.

////// I hope I did this fic the justice it deserves. It was totally Pride and Prejudice inspired hence the reason its so formal and well oldish sounding... lol well hope you guys enjoyed!

xoxo nikki ///////

#the originals #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson #vampire #the vampire diaries #rebekah mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #Kol mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson imagine

176 notes · View notes

smellycinnamonthundahfudge · 3 years

Text

In My Dreams, We're Still Together

“Why is it so important to dream?” a faint voice of a woman asks.

“In my dreams, we're still together.”

-----------------------------------

Wanda opens her eyes.

She's... unsure, of where she is.

Like her synapses are splitting, her neurons are firing in all directions, and her mind is about to combust from tearing itself in half… It almost feels like… she’s glitching.

Just suddenly caught unawares, dropped into the middle of a simulation, or… a dream, with no idea whatsoever where she came from or how she got here.

She spots Geraldine, or Monica- her, that woman, that SWORD agent.

She's standing in front of her, pleading some case about how she understands, how she "knows" what Wanda was going through right now.

All Wanda could manage was a wry, sad, lonely, chuckle.

She feels tired. Like life has drained every fiber from her, and she’s just… a hollow, cracked, shell. No longer a live human teeming with breaths of air and purpose… if she was ever even such a thing to begin with, considering what Agatha revealed to her.

But “Understand?”

Understand???

Wanda may not completely comprehend where she is, or what was happening right now, but the losses she’s suffered through still feel as raw inside her as the days she lost every single one of her family.

And so, No.

No, Monica did not understand.

She just could not possibly, know, comprehend, understand, what Wanda was feeling right now.

Wanda felt so empty inside she sacrificed everything, her conscience, her soul, her family, everything.

For a vague copy, a shadow… of the living breathing feeling, loving, man she dreamed of sharing her life with.

She sacrificed everything.

For someone that didn’t even know who she was. Someone who didn’t trust her, believe her, and maybe even… feared her.

Someone who no longer saw her as she was… but as the villain.

Just like, everyone else.

And Wanda was fine with being the villain, people already feared her nevertheless, even when she fought for them. She made herself the villain to get her family back.

But, she still lost him anyways, all the same.

So Monica can stand there and go on and on about how she understands.

She understands nothing.

Wanda didn’t even understand her own pain, and anger, the vicious black hatred inside her that erupted after being ignored for so long. And, desperation.

The hatred for a universe that sought to take away everything and everyone Wanda dared to risk caring about.

The hatred and anger that would just immediately shield her fragile psyche everytime someone dared to pop her precious ideal dream bubble.

And the desperation. For a life of normalcy she had some semblance of in her childhood, but one she can never seem to have, no matter what she did.

Westview, her transformed version of it, was her dream.

It was her parents, her family TV nights, Pietro trying to change the show, Vis learning TV tropes and cheesy romance storyline gestures for the first time from her.

Them shyly, hesitantly (for good reason) wondering and secretly hoping for a future, but daring to still do so anyways despite of everything.

“I think Mom and Dad would’ve loved it.”

Those same nights of watching in awe of Mary Tyler Moore and her grace and beauty and charm. Wanda wishing she could be like her when she grew up, laughing at her and Dick’s shenanigans.

And looking back at Mama and Papa on the couch, from where she laid on the floor as near as they allowed her to be to the TV.

Wanda faintly remembers The Dick Van Dyke Show, Bewitched, The Brady Bunch, Malcolm in the Middle, and all the rest of them flashing through her mind, in the same vein as her and Vis’ dangerously hopeful conversations for a shared future.

Those fictional sitcoms of the past and foolish daydreams of the future, all brightly flashed, when her mind and her body finally broke, and everything she was, her sadness, her hopes, her past, and her future, came flooding out of her.

She thought of her parents when she made Westview.

“I think Mom and Dad would’ve loved it,” says the Pietro she wanted more than anything to be hers.

“Yeah, I think they would have,” Wanda replied like the man she was speaking to actually knew them.

Westview was, and still is, her dream.

It was her living the life she wanted with the man she wanted to live it with.

And her hate and anger for the universe depriving her of this dream, her desperation to do everything it took to keep it in her grasp; it all swirled inside her, dizzyingly blurring everything. Corrupting and permeating the inside of her mind, and thus, the world she created from her fingertips.

And Wanda couldn’t see past it anymore.

Her sight consisted of tunnel vision exclusively set on Westview, and Tommy and Billy, and Vis.

Anything else didn’t make sense.

Even if this world of Westview, this family she created on her own, even if they and it themselves were... broken.

It was all Wanda had left.

And so, Monica could never understand.

No one, could ever unders-

Not even-

"You?" Wanda bitterly spits out, “You… understand??” frustratingly in disbelief at this hero trying to talk her down.

Wanda can't help but laugh that sad lonely chuckle again.

"No one could possibly understand what I'm going through right now." Wanda states, affirming it as fact, irrefutable, undeniable, fact.

"The one person I thought-”

Suddenly flashes of Vis shouting at her begging her to put him out of his misery pop back up again in her mind.

“Not even the person I loved so much, I-”

“I sacrificed everything for.” As Wanda closes her eyes when she says the words, all the corrupted actions Wanda’s done to keep hold of this broken fantasy flash her mind, as well as that sight of Vision leaving her.

“Even he doesn't understand. He, doesn't believe me, trust me… If even Vis sees me as the villain, maybe I already am.” The shock in Wanda’s words as she says this only undercutting the tragedy of what she’s done; she genuinely hoped all the wrong she’s done would be worth the sacrifice.

Monica, almost steps back. She doesn’t know if it’s out of fear, pity… But the pain in Wanda as she’s seeing it now is just as tangible and permanent as the pain she felt when Wanda was actually inside her head.

Monica almost fears, Wanda’s too far gone to- … to come back.

Be who she was before she lost Vision.

How can you talk sense to someone who’s all but destroyed themselves from the inside out?

Someone who’s been drowned out by their pain, loss, and anger, they can’t see anything past it.

Monica felt like Wanda was in her most fragile, vulnerable state right now. And that one wrong move, one wrong word, and you could just set her off, exploding and disintegrating everything around her.

“So, don't you stand there, and claim you understand anything,” the crimson energy starts swirling on Wanda’s fingertips once more.

“Because you understand nothing.”

“Nothing,” Wanda doesn’t even hold back the tears that were now falling down her cheek as she voices her vitriol at the hero in front of her, “About what I am feeling right now.”

But even after all the rage she’s spewing, lashing out at Monica. Even after Wanda tries her damnedest to shut out the anguish, the guilt. Her sadness over what all that she’s done was even for, amounting to what. It all eventually comes pouring out.

“If he doesn’t want to be here, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

That’s what Wanda said to their children who saved their father… their father and the love of her life, that she couldn’t bring back.

All she, Tommy, and Billy, wanted was to spend time with him.

Vision’s only still alive because of them.

But she still couldn’t stop him from abandoning them altogether.

“Even after I brought him back…” Wanda’s previously volatile disposition suddenly, disappears.

The grief that was barely being held back, begging to come out, finally did.

“He still left.”

Vision wanted to get as far away from her as possible he was willing to die for it.

Wanda expanded the barrier, their kids ask her where he is… and yet-

“He's still- gone.”

“Wanda…”

Vis appears from their front door, and Monica was about to speak to him about SWORD and Hayward, but Vision looked her in the eyes, and pleaded, for a moment alone with his wife.

Maybe a part of her was feeling pity, or sympathy, for Wanda and Vision, but Monica left them alone. “I’ll stand watch outside. Just know that you don’t have much time.”

Vision nods and thanks the Captain for understanding.

Wanda scoffed at what she said. When did they ever have time?

Wanda currently had her back turned away from Vis, she was wiping away the tears she’d cried in her anger.

Vision stares, at Wanda’s sullen, defeated figure. He’s unsure of what he’s going to do.

He cannot explain, what he feels… for Wanda.

A part of him felt trapped, played with, like he was being controlled, and that he was given sentience yet still bound, forced to play a role he didn’t choose for himself. And every time he’d get the slightest bit of control back, he’d be rewound, dumbed back into sedation.

Vision felt unbelievably at the mercy of some unknown being, unable to take control of his own life, but with enough sentience to know that something was wrong.

He was petrified.

And yet, why does he still feel this torturously irrational emotion that can only be called love, for the one who has been causing him all this pain?

Why does he feel warmth, family, and joy, and home, from someone he doesn’t even remember how he met?

Why does he want to protect, shield, guard, defend, and reach towards to, this woman who violated his mind?

And why, does the sight of Wanda in tears, nearly bring tears out of him as well?

Maybe Wanda could answer the questions that plagued his mind, maybe not.

His entire existence on this world has him grappling, struggling to determine what is real, which of his actions are truly his alone, and which are under Wanda’s control.

But whether or not he’s doing this for the people of West View, for himself, or for Wanda, fact of the matter was that something inside him was telling him that he had to comfort his wife.

He had to bring her back to who she used to be.

He had to go to her.

He had to speak to her, confront her.

He had to love her.

Even if it meant hurting her. Making her say goodbye, having her lose him, again.

He loved her.

Vision stepped forwards and got closer to his wife.

“Wanda...” Vision raised his arm to place his hand on Wanda’s shoulder. Wanda looks at it from her periphery and her face contorts itself, as if she’s trying to hold back- everything.

“I still love you,” Vision admitted, wrapping his arms around Wanda, but exasperation and weariness felt evident in his voice.

Wanda was still turned away from him, Vis essentially hugging her from behind, but he can feel the tension and tiredness in her body, her muscles trembling, despite the exhaustion.

And he can’t help but feel, the guilt in the tears she shed. Tears spilled for him, for what she’d done to him.

“I don't know how. I don't know why.”

“But even after all you've done,”

“I still love you.”

He hears her cry louder, her pain and guilt and self-destruction, pouring out of her little by little. He can feel her, hear her, trying to say something.

“I.. I’m… I didn’t…” Wanda struggles to say, her breath hitching from her sob.

Wanda didn’t want to think about so much of her life, when so much of it just seemed to overflow with loss.

Vital parts of her being, her family that was her only safe haven, the thing she fought for the hardest, all just missing empty cavities now. Where there was hopes for the future and warmth from her past, was replaced with endless pain and grief over losing what she had and could have had.

She was drowning. She really was.

And no one could hear her cries for help. No one was there to catch her when she broke and collapsed.

She couldn’t think. Reason was a privilege known only to those whose emotions didn’t destroy them from the inside out.

She collapsed into herself, lost herself in her own created fake broken fantasy. And she just… she drowned.

“Wanda, I know why you created this world.”

Wanda stops her crying, catches her breath.

He knows.

She didn’t know what to make of that.

“I was told what happened with Thanos and the Mind Stone. But, Wanda, I still don’t know- don’t remember my life, our lives, before West View.”

“I don't remember how I met you. I don't remember how we came to be. I don't remember anything, that we shared. I don't remember why I fell for you, Wanda,” Vis looks at Wanda inquisitively but also devotedly, his unceasing need to figure out how he fell just as pervasive as his love for her.

“I don't know who we were.”

So this is where he’s heading.

“I love you, my darling, and that’s why you need to give me my life, my memories of us, back.”

“I can't-” Wanda grits through her hitched sobs, curling over in Vis’ grasp.

Vision lets her go, heartbroken frustrated to see the woman he loves this far gone. Wanda holds her breath to at least try and control herself, but breaks anyways once she feels the space and distance between her and Vis.

She faces him, “I can't let you know the truth.” Wanda states resolutely, but almost pleading with him, desperate for him not to know.

Before Vis argues otherwise, Wanda gets ahead of him, “If you go back, and find out who you really were, remember everything that we had…” she explains, her fears evident in her rushed petrified speech.

“You'd know why I did this.”

His deed flashes to her mind.

“And you’d know who I was,” placing her hand on her chest as she faces Vis head on“and tell me that this,” Wanda waves her arms around her, pointing to all of Westview, “isn’t me.”

“- Even though that me you knew is long gone by now,” Wanda says, tiredly laughing in self-depreciation at what she’s become.

Wanda looks at the floor, weary. Tears pooling over still, despite the thousands she’d already shed, falling onto that same floor she’s now acutely aware is really just sullen abandoned earth in reality.

Grieving the her that she lost. The them that they lost. And the them they’ve become now, because of her.

Wanda can remember it all. Their past, their struggle to find peace & moments together, the moments they did have, and their hopes for a future that felt so close.

And Vision doesn't.

And Wanda remembers killing off all of it when Vision asked her to kill him.

And Vision doesn't.

Wanda was ready to forsake it all, for a chance to live a new life with him and the home and family they made here.

But here was Vis now, begging for memories of that old lost life back.

Wanda is still staring at the floor, into nothing, vanished in the memories of old Vis, that him begging for brought her back to.

Her tears still flow as she recounts just how innocent, pure, good-hearted, and well-meaningly kind Vis was.

And how much he loved her.

Truly, loved her.

“And you’d tell me to do the “right” thing…”

And Wanda remembers who she used to be. The her that Vis fell for.

The daughter, the sister, the fighter and the rebel, and eventually, once upon a time, the hero. The Avenger, who fought for good even when the rest of the world feared her.

But that was before the world took everything she had from her.

“But then I'd just lose you,” Wanda grimaces, “all over again.” then dissolves once more, as she knows, has known all this time if she’s finally going to be honest, what the right thing was.

Acceptance.

Vis tries to walk over to her, finally wholly understanding, wanting nothing more but to shield and protect Wanda from the hurt she’s currently drowning in but-

“And I can't, I can't-” Wanda pushes him away then stops, still holding onto him. Tells her love the truth.

“I can't lose you,” Wanda finally looks at him directly, grasping onto him so tight, her fear of losing him an overwhelmingly powerful need felt even with just her touch, and sees Vis for who he is, all of who he is, her created copy of her lost beloved, but even still, “not again.”

Vision gently cups Wanda’s face in his right hand, grabs both of hers and plants a soft kiss on them with his other, and admits, “And I don't want to lose you.”

And Wanda breaks down in his arms. Like the first time she did when she truly met him, the tens of other times she had when they were friends, and the thousands of times she did when they were together.

#wandavision #wandavision wawandavision #wandaviz #wanda x vision #vision x wanda #wanda maximoff #vision #angst #tragedy #marvel #marvel fanfiction #long post

7 notes · View notes