#gavin rose(mentioned)

[danikamariewrites]

Giving You Gifts

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: A look at how much Azriel loves to shower you with gifts (especially when he can’t see you)

Warnings: none

Azriel has a taste for extravagant items, especially if it’s something he wants (or you)

Knows your style/all your favorite things

He sends flowers to be delivered at work for you (just to piss off your boss and show that if he makes you mad/upset he will have Azriel to deal with)

The flowers Azriel usually sends you are large, colorful bouquets and are always different

Some of them include colors of your favorite paintings

You sometimes forget about the weekly flower delivery, especially when you get busy. But Feyre always remembers. She says it’s the highlight of her week because of how nervous Gavin gets

Every once in a while when Az asks you about your day you’ll mention getting your nails done or something you wanted to buy after work or what you were craving for lunch/dinner. Azriel will send you money, like more than you need for what you were buying, and he always adds cute little notes with smiley faces. He also sends money just bc

His lil messages are: “just bc I love you 💕” “get us matching Stanley’s baby” “for a book spree you deserve it :)”

With jewelry, Azriel is very selective. He doesn’t want to get you anything too big or flashy that you wouldn’t wear it

So it’s usually dainty but expensive

He wouldn’t get you rings though, only necklaces, bracelets, and earrings

Az wants the first ring he gives you to be your engagement ring 😌

You go to parties with Az and he always wants you to feel like you for in with his crowd of people

He felt guilt the first time he invited you and you had a break down over what to wear so now he always makes sure you get a new dress/outfit for any occasion whether it be a party or just going out to dinner

Before a date he always texts you that he can’t wait to see you (even if you just saw him that morning)

He also sends a mini bouquet of roses before a date

When he picks you up he never shows up empty handed

Azriel either has another extravagant gift or just a small thing he saw and thought of you

After a date night Azriel skips dessert at the restaurant and takes you to your favorite ice cream place

Azriel hates when work gets in the way of seeing you. But he knows he has an obligation to fulfill and unfortunately you have to come second sometimes

Azriel always makes up for when he can’t see you due to a work trip

Of course he sends you stuff but he likes to focus on quality time with you

If he could he’d keep you in bed for a week straight he would but you’d yell at him

But he makes sure to pay extra attention to you and put work down when he hasn’t seen you for a week or so

Az definitely does those just because baskets with little gifts

The first time you stay over night at his house he makes a little basket for you full of all of your essentials (so you can have them at his place now), new PJ’s, a blanket for the both of you, and snacks

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Chapter 3- dried flowers

Season 2, ep 2

Series masterlist

Mentions of drugs, some comfort/fluff, ntm goin on in this chapter but :3 I’m trying to grow the relationship yknow

Summary: rafe tries once again to get be the best for Ward, your dad disappears, rafe is the only one to help you and he’s off to Nassau with his dad the next day.

Days had passed since the funeral, and Rafe had his arms tightly wrapped around your body, the warmth radiating from your body enough to lull him to sleep.

And just when he thought that he wouldn’t have to deal with anything, when he thought he was safe in his dreams, he was woken up by a whisper and a hand on his shoulder.

“Rafe.”

He jolted, turning around to look at Ward, then glancing back at you to make sure you’re still asleep.

“I need your help.”

He hesitated to leave you, but he gave you one last glance before standing up and throwing on the discarded shirt on the floor, following Ward outside.

“I need you to just stay calm and stay quiet, okay? Okay?”

“Yeah.” Rafe replied. Ward slowly took the tarp off from behind his truck, clearing his throat.

“What is that?” Rafe asked, his voice shaking as he stared at what laid in front of him.

“It’s a body, son.”

“Oh my god.” He mumbled, throwing up his arms and turning around out of panic.

“Oh my God, it’s a body?” He repeated, his voice louder. This was insane.

“Sh.”

“I gotta know, did you do this? Whose… whose body is it?” He pointed to it, panting.

“It doesn’t matter, Rafe-“

“It doesn’t matter? What are you talking about? Whose body is it, dad?”

“Be quiet.” Ward spoke, holding his hand out to stop him.

“You need to tell me whose body that is! Whose body is it, huh?” He shouted. Ward was quick to cover Rafe’s mouth, his talking was muffled.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop talking.” He said through gritted teeth. “It’s Gavin.”

“Gavin?”

“Gavin.”

“Wait, the pilot?” He shoved Wards hands off his face, taking steps back and looking at the body.

“I don’t.. I don’t understand, what’d he do?” His eyes were glossy, he paused. “What’d he do? What he’d do?”

“He was trying to blackmail us, son. I-“ he took a deep breath.

“What? Blackmail? What are you talking about!” He desperately just wanted to be back in bed now, forget this ever happened and just lay with you again.

“That day at the… on the tarmac when you shot Peterkin, I needed to trust him because I needed him to fly the plane to the Bahamas. Okay?”

“Right.” Rafe was hyperventilating at this point.

“I gave him the gun, the gun that you used, and I told him to throw it out the window over the ocean on his way to the Bahamas. But he didn’t.”

Rafe turned to face him now, his eyebrows furrowed.

“He kept it.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what… what do you mean, he kept it?”

“He kept it. He kept the gun that you killed Peterkin with so he could blackmail us for more money.”

“Why would he do that?” He turned back to the body now.

“He was gonna turn you in, Rafe. He said you were a psychopath and he wasn’t going to jail for you. Now will you please help me carry him to the boat?”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The sun rose, the yellow sun peaking in from behind the curtains. You had a small smile on your face as you woke up, you began to reach out for Rafe, but realized his spot was empty. You opened your eyes.

You furrowed your eyebrows, grabbing your phone and looking at the time and date.

Shit.

You had 5 missed calls, from your dad. You stood up, not wasting any time as you grabbed your keys and ran downstairs, straight past the family and shut the door quietly, getting into the car and heading home.

They just gave each other looks and brushed it off.

—

“I’m sorry, dad.” You said as soon as you stepped into the house. But he wasn’t there.

“Dad?” You repeated, worry growing. The back door was slung open.

“Shit.” You mumbled, going to the bathroom and opening up the medicine cabinet. He had taken every pill he had in there, then you went to his usual spot.

Every joint, every needle, every bit of coke, everything he had was gone with him. You tried to call him back multiple times, but he didn’t answer.

Knowing him, he was dead or running away from the cops.

You opened the drawer, searching for the gun he usually had.

“Shit. This is all my fault. This is all my fucking fault!” You shouted, running a hand through your hair and kicking the bottles on the floor, they shattered as soon as they hit the ground.

You choked out a sob, leaning against the wall. Maybe you were overreacting, you thought. But you knew what happened when he was gone and brought his stuff with him.

This week was not your week.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Rafe 🩷:

Sorry for leaving you this morning. I had to go do something. How you feeling?

You stared at the text, not sure how to reply. You had told him about your dad over a call, you called him panicking.

“It’s okay, dw about it. I’m fine.” was all you said back.

Rafe 🩷:

If it makes you feel any better I can take you out tomorrow.

“I can’t. Sorry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. He had made you upset, he thought.

“Girlfriend troubles?” Barry chuckled from beside him. Rafe glared at him.

“Think you have bigger problems than her, country club.” He was referencing the gun he failed to find.

Rafe shook his head and chuckled. “Yeah. I know.” He mumbled, throwing on his helmet and driving away from Barry’s trailer and to the hellhole that was known as Tannyhill.

—-

“I looked everywhere. I swear to God.” Rafe told Ward. Ward paced around the dock, groaning.

“I know. I’m not mad at you. I’m just-“

“Listen, if those pogues got the gun we can just say John B stole it, yeah?”

Ward turned to him now, spluttering. “Yeah. He lived at the house. He’s… he’s a known thief. Absolutely, yes. Yes. What about the car?”

“I left the car at the airstrip.”

“That’s perfect. That’s good work. Thank you, Rafe, thank you.” Ward spoke, Rafe nodded. Ward began to walk away, before turning back to his son.

“Listen buddy, I uh… I have to fly to the Bahamas tomorrow, and I… would you go with me?”

Rafe’s eyes widened. Finally, he noticed him. “Yes, sir.”

“All right. It’ll be good to get you out of here. Honestly, I… just feel like I need someone to have my back, you know?”

“I got that.”

“You got that?”

“All day.”

“You do, don’t you?” Ward said. Rafe nodded slowly. Ward put his hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, bud.”

“Yeah.” A smile was on Rafe’s face, watching Ward walk away.

That smile disappeared and he had one thing left on his mind when he went back onto his motorcycle.

He went to the nearest open store, buying the best bouquet he could find. Along with your favorite snack, and drove straight over to the cut.

The cut was one place he was not welcomed. As he drove down the streets, he ignored the stares and whispers. You heard a motorcycle pull up, getting up from your spot on the couch and looking outside.

It was Rafe. You looked at him, confused as he stepped up to your door, holding out some flowers and snacks for you.

“Hey.” He spoke first.

“Hi.” You whispered, your gaze dropping to the ground.

“Can I.. come in?”

You nodded, opening the door more for the man. It made you slightly embarrassed, the mess. He looked around.

“Sorry. It’s a…” you struggled to close the door, the hinges broken. He set down the stuff and helped you.

“It’s a shithole.” You mumbled, a quiet laugh following.

“No, no, you’re fine. It’s fine. I came here for you.”

You stared at him, the tears already welling in your eyes again. You wiped your eyes.

“Sorry. Today’s been…” you sniffled.

“Interesting. Believe me, I know.” He chuckled. You sat down on the couch and told him to as well.

“I don’t really have a vase or anything..” you told him when he handed you the flowers.

“Oh. Shit.” He chuckled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I love them. Me and my brother used to air dry them, actually. It keeps them just as beautiful and preserves them.” You spoke with a smile, and pointed to one of the only pieces of decoration in this house, admiring the flowers you had in your hands.

“Really? That’s… interesting. Don’t think I’ve ever heard of that. They’re pretty.” He nodded to the flowers hanging on the wall.

You nodded and put the flowers down onto the table now, turning to him.

“How’d the whole… gun thing go?”

He swallowed. “Didn’t find it. But if anyone does we have a plan. Everything’s good. Nothing you need to worry about.

“That’s good.” You hummed.

“But uh, listen… I wanted to let you know that I’m going to the Bahamas tomorrow. With my dad.”

You stayed silent for a moment. “Oh. Okay.”

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Why should you not go because of me?”

“I’m worried about you.” He mumbled, his hand going to your face, rubbing his thumb on the bottom of your lip.

“Don’t be.”

“I always am.”

You just leaned into his touch, getting comfortable with him. You got closer and put your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“Rafe, I didn’t just bring you here because I need your help. I wanna show you something.”

“Is this the deal you’ve been working on?” Rafe asked, throwing his bag onto the couch.

“You could say that.” He went over to the safe, and began to push buttons. “You ready?” He asked, turning to Rafe.

“What you got in there? The hope diamond?”

The both laughed and Ward opened it. Rafe’s eyes widened, turning to Ward.

“Is that real?” He asked, shocked.

“Son, that’s the realest thing there is.”

“How…” rafe said, Ward handing him a piece of gold. He picked it up.

“I found it.”

“You found… you found the royal merchant?”

“It’s what all this has been about. All this gold, it’s ours now.”

“Jesus.”

“It can’t bring your sister back, but it can save us. By the time hurricane agatha hit, we were in a financial hole. A deep one. Not in a hole any more.” He handed him some more.

“I mean, I’m looking… I’m looking at what here?”

“Half a billion.”

“Half a billion. Oh my God.” He mumbled, walking out into the balcony, his hands on his head. “Holy shit!” He screamed.

“Dad! What? How is this possible, huh?”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Who knew transporting gold could get so messy?

He held the gun in his hands, holding it to John B. At least that’s who he meant to shoot. Instead, when he shot it, the bullet grazed Sarah. Rafe noticed.

The two now were sitting, waiting.

“It was her. That was her, right? That was Sarah.”

“It was her. Yeah.” Rafe rasped out.

Ward nodded. “She’s alive. I don’t know what the hell you were doing, though. Shooting a gun right at her. She’s lucky you didn’t hit her. Can’t be shootin’ a gun-“

“I did.”

“What?” Ward turned to him.

“I hit her.” He whispered.

“You shot Sarah?”

“I was trying to shoot John B, okay? It was an accident, she stepped in the way.”

“Is she okay?”

“I did not mean to shoot her.”

Wards fuckin’ golden child. He thought.

“Okay. Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.”

“But I don’t care that I did.”

“What did you say? Rafe, that is your sister, okay?”

“My sister?”

“Yes, your sister.”

“The one who- the one who stole from us? The one who had her boyfriend pointing a gun at us, right? Get the blinders off.”

———-

Taglist: @cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx

[somehow-a-human]

Whose POV is it Anyway?

A Conclusion.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay. Well. That was more intense i'll say than I expected. There is a lot happening with these filters over these 6 episodes and it was a bit more detailed and harder to follow than I had originally expected but we got through it and I have more than a few final thoughts to wrap this up.

For reference & context, I recommend reading these posts:

Whose POV is it Anyway? - Introduction

POV "Your 'Something's Wrong' Voice"

POV a Trip to Hell and a 25 Lazarii Miracle

POV a Companion to Owls

POV The Dirty Donkey & I think I Found a *Clue*!

POV Bodysnatchers & Cosplaying a bookseller

POV 1941

POV The Ball

POV The End?

Lens Filters

Shall we conclude?

So, if you remember back to my originally introductory post for this series, the thing that kicked off this entire analysis was a bit of commentary made by the cinematographer Gavin Finney in this article.

Finney Describes the Bronze Glimmerglass filter as being used for "bookshop scenes", the Black Pro Mist filter for "Hell", and Black Diffusion FX for "Crowley's Present Day Storyline". I still hate that wording.

Something in that zinged my brain just right and I launched into research about the cameras and these specific lens filters. Give that post a read seriously or none of this will make much sense. ANYWAY.

What I had decided for writing these posts, since we had two main characters, was that I was going to apply the Bronze Glimmerglass (BGG) filter to Aziraphale's POV, since it was mentioned it's applied to bookshop scenes and he's always there anyway, and the Black Diffusion FX (BDFX) filter to Crowley's POV, since well, that's what they said it is kinda.

Do I think it is as simple as, it is either Crowley or Aziraphale's POV? no.

It was a decent jumping off point though, and it was working really well for the first few episodes but once we got past the halfway mark of the season, the lines started to blur, and I think that is perfectly in line with our story.

The BGG filter is usually applied to scenes in the bookshop, featuring Aziraphale, or the record shop, sometimes the coffee shop when Maggie is being lovesick over Nina. We even see it in heaven during the Job minisode and its on THICK during the Whickber Street Ball. The BGG filter is romantic, idealistic, it's just that a filter. Looking at the world through rose colored glasses! Looking at the world likely how Aziraphale would like to see it.

The BDFX filter is cooler toned, more realistic, it's used in scenes with Shax and Crowley, and often Nina when Maggie isn't around because these characters are pragmatic. They aren't dreamers, they see things for the reality that they are.

Whenever Crowley shows up and says something snarky to Aziraphale to break him out of his fanciful delusions and insults him (affectionate), like the scene at the coffee shop, or the scene at the pub, the filter switches from BGG to BDFX. We're being broken out of the dream, brought back into the colder reality.

I think it makes sense to apply the filters to characters for a lot of the season because their actions fit in their characterization. Aziraphale is daydreamy BGG, Crowley is a realist BDFX. It just works. But then we start to add in the demons attacking The Ball and the offer from the Metatron and everything falls apart. The BGG filter is gone. The dream is gone. We're in cold reality, even in the bookshop where we are usually consistently in a dreamy state.

Even Crowley gets the dreamy effects of the BGG filter and of what-could-be peace & domesticity in the bookshop when Aziraphale is in Edinburgh and he's forced to just hang around and chill with Jim. I'm sure that type of life is all he wants with Aziraphale. Quiet, wearing his cardigan and carrying books around for his love.

I'm glad I wrote my opinions before that C & A were possibly imagining each other in the Edinburgh POV chapter so that theory can exist on the internet somewhere but I think this is more likely the case. The filters are more likely indicating to us what the wants dreams and desires of the characters are compared to the realities they see. What do they choose to see better? Worse?

What does this mean for the Final 15? It's simply reality, and neither of them want it.

I'd like to remind you dear reader that this is one opinion, of which there are many on this website, and plenty of them are worth reading and considering. I don't expect that I'm right. I expect that I'm wrong. In fact, I'll probably write another series of posts next month detailing precisely how everything here is completely backwards to how it ACTUALLY is! Well maybe not. That is to say, if you don't agree with this, that's cool, I might not either tomorrow, but wasn't it entertaining to read?

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Lily- a DCA!Serial Killer AU drabble

CW: vomiting, mention of drug use

" 'Boy,' she said courteously, 'why are you crying?' "

Sun read aloud to the collection of children at the day's reading circle, his voice module shifting to a higher, feminine pitch to match the character Wendy when speaking her lines. Today's book was 'Peter and Wendy' by J.M. Barrie. Some of the children gathered around him giggled, finding it as silly as when he was pretending to cry as Peter Pan just seconds earlier. A smile of his own was etched on the sun animatronic's face plate, it always elated him to hear the children laugh.

" 'Peter could be exceedingly polite also, having learned the grand manner at fairy ceremonies, and he-' "

"M-Mr. Sun…?"

A small voice croaked his name, and a smaller hand rose in his peripherals. He knew the voice, and his eyes fell on one particular child. His jovial smile became one of concern. The child didn't look very well.

"Lily, are you alright?"

The child, Lily, looked up at Sun with watery eyes slightly obscured by her glasses. She was shaking, appeared rather pale, and a hand was gripping at her shirt over her stomach. It was a familiar sight to Sun. As well as the children, as some had warily begun scooting away from her.

"I…h-have to go…"

Sun knew what that meant and he nodded. Tucking a bookmark in between the pages, he sat the book in his chair and carefully scooped Lily into his arms. "The reading circle will continue in just a moment, Sunbeams! We will be back very soon! Gavin, please make sure the little ones behave," he instructed one of the older kids as he was already on his way to the library's bathroom, hurrying inside.

He knelt with her in front of one of the stalls, removing her glasses and tucking them over the collar of his sweater, then he brushed back her black hair for him to hold. With his other hand, he rubbed Lily's back as she began to cough and retch into the toilet. He gave her a sympathetic look.

"There there, Sunbeam. Get it all out," he gently instructed the poor girl. He had done this a few times with her in the past. The poor thing was prone to sickness due to a heightened sense of anxiety, least that's what Lily's mother told him over the phone the first time it happened. Fortunately, Sun was unbothered by such predicaments. He was used to dealing with ill children.

When Lily had finished, he moved to the wall and let her sit in his lap. He returned her glasses to her, then reached into his pocket and gave her an apple juice box he grabbed before coming here. She sipped it while he continued rubbing her back. "Are you starting to feel better, Lily?" he asked, soft enough that his voice didn't echo.

Lily rubbed at her eyes and nodded with a sniffle, but that didn't stop her from crying. When asked what was the matter, she hiccupped, "I-I feel bad, f-for making you always stop story time…! I-I don't mean to…I'm sorry, M-Mr. Sun…!"

"Aww, Sunbeam…" Sun pulled her into another gentle hug, a hand going in circles on her back. "There is nothing for you to be sorry for. I am not at all upset, sweetie. Only worried. I know you can't help this. Just take a breath. Everything's alright." Sun held Lily close as she buried her face into his sweater, shaking a little less. The small girl sniffled, letting out a shaky breath. She adjusted her head in an odd manner, almost like she was…nuzzling him. He continued rubbing her back as the smallest sob escaped her.

"…I wish you were my mom…"

His hand froze in place.

Sun went completely still. His smile fell entirely, his eyes trained on nothing. It was barely a whisper, but he heard it. He heard it. In that moment, he looked back. Every time he saw Lily and her mother together. She ran when dropped off, and walked when being picked up. She never willingly held her mother's hand. The rare times Lily would glance back at him. The look on her face…

"What was that, Sunbeam?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Lily flinched a little in his arms, keeping her face buried. She let go of him, rubbing at her face. "N-Nothing," she answered meekly.

"Oh, alright then." He forced down his building anger. 'Later', he told himself, and he stood up, placing Lily on the ground. "Now, how are you feeling? Are you ready to go back to the circle?" Thinking for a moment, Lily eventually gave him a shy nod. He smiled warmly. "Wonderful! Let's hurry off to Neverland, shall we?" He lightly booped her on the nose, glad to see it warrant him a giggle out of her.

Holding her hand, he walked out of the bathroom towards the reading circle. Though outwardly cheery as he greeted the little ones and resumed reading, that sting still lingered at the base of his chest. Silently, he sent a message.

"Moon."

"Yeah."

"Jackie Langman."

"Lily's mother?"

"…"

"…I'll look into her."

"Thank you."

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

Moon sat on the edge of the pier, his legs crossed. The tide was high, and he didn't want his uniform getting wet. He stared out at the empty, moonlit horizon of the bay. No boats were out at this hour, everyone had already docked in for the day. It was a quiet place, free of prying eyes and cameras. No motor engines disturbed the night's peace, leaving only the sound of the wind and the waves…

And the approaching footsteps behind him.

Moon didn't need to turn around to know who was walking down the pier. Before long, Sun joined him in sitting, placing himself at Moon's left. Seeing the high-rising water, he crossed his legs, too. Sun hung his head low, heterochromatic eyes shining back at him in his reflection as his hands rested on the pier's edge.

"…What did you find?" he asked.

Moon glanced at Sun briefly from the corner of his eyes. He could sense something looming in his twin's tone. He looked back out to the horizon with a sigh. Right. Cut to the chase, then.

"Jackie Langman. Single mother, divorced her husband--Lily's father--when Lily was only 3. Began shooting narcotics around that time. Reports from neighbors claim to have heard shouting from inside their home and things being broken. Police could never find anything. Jackie claims to have gone to rehab for her drug use, but there are no records indicating she ever went."

Moon heard the sound of wood creaking on his left and glanced to Sun, whose shoulders were tense. His hands gripped the wood, causing it to begin splintering. His rays rattled like a snake's tail. Moon let out another small sigh. "Sun-"

"Why didn't I see it sooner…?" Sun interrupted. His brows were tightly knit, teeth gritted together. His colored pupils had shrunken a little. "Three months…Lily's been part of the reading circle for three months. They were there…The signs were all there, and I didn't see it."

"Sun, you can't burden this on yourself," Moon told him calmly.

"Do you know what she said to me earlier?" Sun continued, like Moon hadn't said anything. "In the bathroom, as I held her. She told me, 'I wish you were my mom'." Moon's eyes widened slightly, hearing this. Sun smiled, but it was full of bitterness and self-disgust. "That was when I realized. Only then did I…" An inhale rattled in his chest, clearly fighting to keep himself composed. “I hate that I had to pretend to not hear what she said…”

Moon remained silent for a moment, allowing Sun the chance to collect himself. "Sun. As much as you hate it, we can’t let anything rouse suspicion. Especially from the kids. But don’t worry. What matters is that we know, now. And we can do something about it. I've already looked at potential guardians. Her dad is just as crooked as Jackie, so he's a no-go. Lily has an aunt up in Milwaukee; she seems pretty clean, and it looks like she's tried to fight for custody over Lily in the past."

"We need to act now." Moon blinked, confused by Sun's sudden declaration. "Whatever we do, we need to do it now."

"Sun, hold your horses. We still need to find a way of getting to Jackie, and make sure Lily is out of the way," Moon explained. "I understand your anger, but we can't jump into this-"

"And why not?!" Sun's voice cracked as it rose. The wood under his hand cracked as well, his face plate twisted with rage, as well as fear, colored pupils now rattling pinpricks. "We can't sit and plan and wait too long about this, Moon! We just can't! We need to act now, before it's t-too late…!" His voice wavered, and his eyes flickered before squeezing shut. Sun's breath shuddered as he tried to control it, like he was fighting to keep himself from crying. "I-It can't happen again…"

Moon waited once again, giving Sun a needed moment. Then he reached and placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Sun. Look at me." He instructed softly. Sun did so, his optics shining. Moon gave him a gentle, but firm look. "It won't be like how it was with her. We won't let that happen. I promise you."

Slowly, Sun managed to calm himself down. He took a breath and thumbed away the oil tears in his eyes. Once composed, he gave Moon a faint smile. "Thank you, brother…"

Moon returned that smile to Sun, lightly patting him on the back. Then he stood up, stretched his arms over his head, and offered a hand to Sun. "Shall we get to work?"

The other animatronic accepted the hand and was pulled to his feet. Sun gave a firm nod, walking with Moon back down the pier. "Let's do it." He would save Lily, no matter what it took.

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

:3c

@moonlit-dreamers

[pasteloctoz]

Damihux

Christmas ass lookin colors

My favorite couple bc these beautiful specimens need more appreciations.

any trigger warnings will be seperated from the rest and put at the bottom (probably not too many, its just a precaution :])

Hux is pan n transmasc, Damien is queer.

Search up frederic chen on yt (love their content) the way they dress/do make up is how i imagine damien dresses especially after not talking to his mom as much (bc he doesnt feel the pressure of her looming over him anymore.) And ppl like gavin pushing him to try new things.

Hux does the thing that Nick does in Heartstopper. "I'm bi, not gay" but instead he says pan. Bc pan/bi representation is important!!!

Hux is African-American and his other mom is Puerto-Rican (is that how you spell it?) So he grew up with Puerto Rica culture. While Damien is Mexicana. Sometimes they'll use some random slang that they grew up with in their respective houshold and the other will be just- slightly confused as to what it means.

They have a cat named shrimp and huxley calls him their firstborn child. To which damien deems "stupid" or "dumb" while being so flushed hed practically be a working furnace

Hux looks at damien with that loveheart eye look where you just KNOW hes admiring his partner like theyre the only light in the world. When Damien notices he just asks, "....... what?....." while a bit flushed.

Huxley never had the money to get top surgery until after he graduated from Damn. His moms wanted to help pay but he insisted that they didn't have to worry about it.

Once he's gotten top surgery, Damien does nothing but worry and take care of him. They would be attached at the fuckin hip istg-

Hux's favorite game is Dark Souls and everytime Damien tries to play it he gets angry and eventually just ends up leaning on hux and watching him play.

Damien is a big fucking fan of the final fantasy games. But somehow the only time hes gotten Hux to play a game made by the studio is fucking kingdom hearts. (Nothing against kingdom hearts i love kingdom hearts)

Tw: Tabacco/Vape mentions, homophobia mentions, suggestive

If you find any of these triggering feel free to scroll past (it will be in small font like this), meanwhile have a picture of my dog :D

Damien is probably more likely to vape/smoke than hux bc of his anxiety. Hux would honestly be more of a clean lungs advocate (he doesn't judge ppl who use drugs though- its not his buisness).

Usually when ppl are being homophobic to the two, hux calms damien down but one time damien just grabbed hux by the cheeks and gave him a real sloppy kiss. Casually took hux's hand afterward and teasingly whispered "scared them off, didnt we?"

Like- we know hux is always gonna make the first move but you cant tell me there hasnt been atleast once where damien made hux so flushed roses were growing out of his locs.

[crplpunkklavier]

thoughts on vongole, and kristoph as a dog owner

DISCLAIMER: i am not a professional in dog care nor training. i have had and trained a dog for many years now, but he is not a retriever. i've studied up on other breeds out of curiosity (and due diligence tbh). if anything i say here is factually wrong and you know more, feel free to reach out!

Kristoph: Ah, yes, she's surprisingly delicate, you know. Requires careful tending. But, she is my "best friend", as they say. Phoenix: "Best"...? Come on, now I'm starting to feel bad for you. Kristoph: Oh? Of course, she's known to bite if handled roughly. Phoenix: Y-Your rose bites? Kristoph: ...... I was speaking of the photo next to the rose. My retriever, Vongole. Cute, but feisty.

this is all we ever learn about vongole. am i going crazy about it? maybe. (also, after this line, phoenix thinks to himself, "every dog has its thorn..." as if that means literally anything. i love him so)

vongole is one of my favorite mysteries about kristoph. she is not at all relevant in aa4, and if she was only ever going to be in this tiny bit of flavor text (so easily missable too!) why put her in at all? was she going to play a bigger role in a later game that shu takumi never got to bless us with? i guess it's possible. that would lift vongole on the same level as those pesky black psyche locks. but either way, we have her here, and that means i get to overanalyze her :)

or more accurately, i get to overanalyze kristoph gavin on the basis that he has a dog who

is a retriever

is "surprisingly delicate"

requires careful tending

is his best friend, as they say

bites if handled roughly

hey. what the fuck does any of that mean, kris?

lets start with the breed. i've mentioned in a post before that many of us seem to have collectively decided that vongole is a golden retriever, which seems fitting, since those are famous blondes, just like the other gavins. however, "retriever" doesn't automatically mean golden retriever! there are a few other retriever breeds. you're probably familiar with labrador retrievers, for instance. i have a curly-coated retriever in my neighborhood who, you guessed it, has a charming curly coat, pitch black, and is a trained service dog!

we often see retrievers as service dogs, because they're pretty fit for the job. the name retriever comes from hunting though. while my own dog is more engaged in actually running ahead and killing prey himself (no i don't let him do that.), retrievers have been bred to go and, well, retrieve prey for the hunters. this of course means that you can also teach them to retrieve other stuff for you fairly easily. like meds, socks, blankets -- stuff a service dog would be helpful for.

apart from that, retrievers are also known to be good family dogs, because they're friendly, affectionate, loyal, and quick to trust. they're also very active, and pretty smart! there are minor differences between the various retriever breeds, but this much goes for all of them to some extent.

why in the world does kristoph have a dog?

i... just..... does he seem like a dog person to you?? i just.... i mean, he doesn't seem like a cat person to me either. or a plant person. maybe he doesn't seem like a person to me. i just really stumble over this sometimes, because it seems wild to me to think that kristoph gavin got himself a retriever just because he.... wanted a retriever?

the guy works what's pretty much an office job. his salary shouldn't be very high, as a defense attorney? but, well, he's implied to like high-profile cases, and he had the money to employ an assistant, so i don't think he's poor. he needs time and space for a retriever, though. vongole isn't a little shih tzu who's happy to just hang out on your lap all day. again, REALLY active. this is a dog who wants AT LEAST an hour of outside time a day. kristoph gavin doesn't even look like he's ever seen the sun. but ok.

one frankly hilarious route i've considered is that he wanted a dog for protection. klavier says he's been "living in fear" ever since zak gramarye disappeared on him, and then he panicked enough to straight up beat him to death the minute he saw him again seven years later. he's paranoid, he's spying on everyone involved. i think kristoph really was very scared. so maybe at some point he figured he'd get himself a dog that would protect him from assailants.

i say this is hilarious because..... a retriever is not the dog you want, man. like, yeah, she'll be loyal to you if she likes you. the problem is she is also really quick to like you, or the intruder in your house, or the guy coming to your office to kill you. if kris got a retriever because he wanted a guard dog, that was a fantastic bit of stupidity, and i personally love it for him.

another angle i like, one that makes him a little less stupid and a little more horrifying, is appearances.

But, she is my "best friend", as they say.

this line really does something to my brain. kristoph gavin talks like a law text book at the best of times, so the somewhat awkward wording of it isn't really what's bothering me. it's the fact that he said it at all. it's that very last part. the "as they say." because, yeah, sure, people say that. yeah yeah, man's best friend, we've all seen it.

and it just... seems so very kristoph to latch onto a truism about human beings, to make himself look like one. look at him! he's got a suit, he's got a job. he's totally on speaking terms with his brother. when the bar association voted to disbar phoenix, he was the only one who voted against that (one more thing i'd love to make a big post about one day lol), he has regular dinner with his good friend phoenix wright, he has an assitant, he has a law office. he probably has a car, because it's LA. he has a savings account. that's not, like, canon, but he does. of course he also has a dog. he's just a regular human guy! he likes poetry and the arts. his best friend is a dog, and more than that, a breed which is known for its gentleness, and for how great they are with..... children :)

let's all sit back and let that chill go down our spine for a sec.

kristoph got a retriever to prove something. kristoph got a retriever for the same reason that he made friends with vera misham before he tried to kill her.

remember what his prison cell looks like? with the books, the arm chair, the violin? he keeps up appearances, even after his arrest. of course he'd put up a framed picture of his beloved dog. like any normal human person would.

but did he treat her well?

well...... well.

here's the thing.

i don't think kristoph gavin is an animal abuser. i don't think he treated her badly. but that's a sliding scale, with dogs, and with most pets, isn't it? if i'm never outright mean or violent to my dog, that's great, but if i never give him enrichment, if i never learn to read his body language, if i never give him what he fundamentally needs as a certain animal of a certain breed, i'm still not treating him well. i'm not treating him right, i'm just not overtly torturing him.

back to kristoph. in this vein, i often think about what we hear of his interactions with young vera. one thing that particularly sticks out to me is how drew misham says that kristoph was one of the very few people who ever made her smile.

kristoph clearly has a way with children, to an extent. he knows to get her that stamp -- he actually understands her childish fascination with magic a little too well and gets her a present that she likes so much it thwarts his whole plan. keep in mind that vera was 12 -- when kristoph's younger brother was 12, kristoph was 19 already, old enough to consciously learn things about the 12-year-old in his household. he knows kids, and he gets through to them.

but never fully, does he? klavier figured out something was off about the way his brother came to his office. and even vera, despite smiling at kristoph so earnestly, despite really loving that stamp, despite being only 12, even vera was so horrified by that little twitch of the devil's hand. there was always something uncanny about kristoph.

why am i bringing that up? i'm not saying everyone who's good with children will be good with dogs, or the other way around. but there is common ground. you're dealing with a living thing that's smaller than you, dependent on you, and you're building a relationship that'll take a lot of calmness, understanding, and reassurance. kids often can't express themselves in ways adults would immediately understand, and neither can dogs.

and i think kristoph got about as far with vongole as he did with vera. i think vongole liked him fine. again, retrievers are quick to like people. he was there, he fed her, he probably gave up trying not to let her up on the couch. sure she liked him. but did she listen to him?

before i ever had a dog, my mom used to tell me that she thought the concept of dog training (the german word is Hundeschule, so literally "dog school") was stupid, that she'd had a dog as a kid, and that dog didn't have to know any tricks, it wasn't a circus animal! well, my mom was also bad with every pet we've ever had, and with all three of her kids. so.

look, it's important that your dog listens to you. i'm just saying. no, it doesn't have to know "circus tricks," although depending on the breed, it might have fun learning them! and it definitely just. it needs the basics. your dog needs to understand what "no" means, and your dog should come when called -- i know we're all tired of alpha terminology and it's constantly used wrong, but, genuinely, your dog needs to know that you're the leader of the pack. your dog needs that, it's good for the dog. turns out i was also using it wrong! this reblog explains what i meant to say better than i could. my point was that you have got to give your dog something, some form of structure. for the dog's own cognitive development, for you to work as a union, and last but not least to make sure you don't bring harm to the outside world!

and, yeah, this is absolutely the part where i think kristoph failed. because no, i don't think he was ever violent with her or anything, but i also don't think he would ever have the patience it takes for solid dog training.

why else does he, unprompted, bring up that she is "surprisingly" delicate, and requires "careful" tending? kris, did you not know? why are you surprised by how delicate a literal living thing is? did you accidentally step on her paw and she acted like it's the end of the world? yeah, they do that. did you come home late from the office one night and there was a pile of poop on your overturned laundry basket? hmm. if only something could be done about that.

the "bite if handled roughly" part is the last one i wanna talk about, because that also gave me a lot of trouble.

i mean... dogs bite. they do! mine bites. especially puppies are happy to play-bite, often into hands, and it's important to get that under control while they're young. this also loops us all the way back around to vongole being a retriever. remember, they're bred to carry stuff in their mouths. it is in this dog's dna to use her mouth for stuff.

this means she might be bite-happy in a very specific way. i've actually read multiple times that retriever bites are "soft", because again, they're just supposed to retrieve game when hunting, not kill it themselves. it's already dead, and a dog actually biting into it would make it yucky for humans to eat. retrievers are good at moderating bite strength for that.

but.... it doesn't sound like that's what kristoph is talking about, is it? she's known to bite if handled roughly. that sounds like she really bites. and of course she does. if handled roughly. hey, what the fuck does that mean, handled roughly? who's handling her roughly?

again, this doesn't necessarily scream animal abuse. as @mlmschemes, out of professional experience, has brought up, there are certain things that need to be done during a vet visit that dogs don't always love, especially if they aren't used to it, like nail trims, to state the easiest one. you might have to hold a dog down for that. and if that dog is trained and socialized like ass, yeah, she'll bite if handled roughly.

but, hey, don't worry. she's just feisty. :) cute but feisty, he says.

just like every fucking dog owner i've ever met in the neighborhood who has a half-rabid untrained menace that would probably tear my face from my skull if not for its stupid retractable leash.

anyway.

kristoph wants to be a dog owner because it's a fun normal human thing to do and makes him look non-threatening, well-adjusted, and generally likeable. but he sucks at dog training. nobody has ever fully believed the guy--fucking, even apollo IMMEDIATELY deserts him in court. kristoph lives a superficial life and vongole probably has zero trouble becoming the best friend of whoever gets her next.

just to bring this already embarrassingly long post to a point and an end, here's some quick tips from me for portraying vongole, and by extension kristoph dealing with her:

retrievers are affectionate, so vongole is probably a cuddler

kristoph probably has fur fucking everywhere. he comes into the office with a briefcase thats just filled with lint rollers

vongole knows exactly zero commands. if you have food in your hand, she will sit down, because sometimes that gets her things, and she will try to use it at every possible opportunity

if sitting down doesn't work, she will become more and more annoying. if my dog felt like i wasn't giving him enough attention, he used to walk up to my desk and nudge my forearm with his nose so strongly that my grip on my computer mouse would slip and i would fuck up whatever i was working on.

kristoph loses patience with her. it'd be interesting to write, because he'd want to save face if it happens in public, too. he can't yell at his dog there, that'd look bad. i imagine a lot of insistent leash tugging, a lot of ill-advised grabbing/holding her (here's where he probably gets bitten too), and a lot of smiling and laughing and being like "ohh, haha, she's just so feisty today, what's going on ooo she's so nice normally haha"

i doubt he played much with her? she probably had toys, but for kristoph to interact with them a lot.... you can play fetch with retrievers pretty well, because, once again, they're retrievers. and that's a pretty classic "look at me i'm a normal dog owner" thing to do, so he probably has some like, tennis balls and stuff that he'd throw for her. but that's probably it.

if you write vongole changing owners to klavier and/or apollo, please please please let her do a full 180. if you're going by what i've theorized here vis à vis kristoph, that dog is DESPERATE to learn. dogs want jobs and she would be SOOO happy to be trained.

forget that thing about old dogs and new tricks. my dog is 8 years old and i'm currently teaching him a new command, for funsies. it's working and he loves it. you can write vongole becoming a model citizen at any age. i implore you to.

[blond-jerk-tourney]

Champagne Bracket: Semifinals, Poll 2

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Kristoph Gavin

tried to kill a 12 year old girl and her father, also killed some other guy because he lost to him at poker

Quick propaganda for kristoph because he fascinates me and i need to show off how insane he is: when a client choose another defense attorney over him he used an 8 yo to hand that attorney forged evidence. he then proceeded to use his prosecutor little brother to make sure the court knows the attorney used forged evidence, thus making him lose his career. he then proceeded to play 5d chess with said attorney for 7 years, all hidden under the label 'friends'. he tried killing the 12 yo who forged the evidence but ended up killing her dad 7 years later instead, but he had a plan b and still managed to almost kill the girl. when he met the client that i mentioned at the beginning again, he murdered him. he's manipulative as hell and wants to be the best with the most power and everything that he did said above was literally out of Pettiness for that one attorney, and also to cover himself up (not so successfully since he does end up caught)

Eichi Tenshouin

He is literally the centerpiece of The War in ensemble stars. He more or less rose to student council president position, gutted their entire school and instilled lots of new rules and stuff. He made 5 students public figures, then promptly dragged them through the mud. He gained intel from people close to them and utilized their weaknesses against them to execute them. They all ended up getting severely bullied. He's treated many friendships as transactional relationships. He sabotaged numerous idol units, putting one out of commission for months. All in all, it was brutal. He almost succeeded in shutting down an entire revolution a year later. On another note he is just. a cheeky little guy. Sassy man apocalypse

link to image of quote

both submitters invite you to read this explanation of "the war"

you guys should vote for eichi there is something deeply wrong with him

please vote for eichi!! he may not be the first character Midorikawa Hikaru has voiced who acts like both an s and an m, but he's the only enstars character i have a fan mix for! did you know he once somehow started a war in a foreign country that only sakuma rei could put an end to to get him away from eichi's childhood friend? did you know said friend had to tie him to his hospital bed to keep him from escaping out the window on a firetruck??

Eichi for the win that man is a war criminal.

[anexistingexistence]

Saw someone do something like this somewhere, no idea where the post went otherwise I would have linked it but whatever-

Assigning Redacted characters Mindless Self Indulgence songs (From someone who is very normal about that band) in no particular order and with the occasional quote from the song:

Gavin: Tight. [I didn't have a say in the matter, he picked it himself-]

Damien: Witness. [Me assigning him this song is a positive thing, I promise.]

Huxley: On It. [The Imperium is strong with this one...]

Kody: Get It Up. [ :) ]

Lasko: Revenge. [We all know this man just wants to bash some heads in and is doing his best not to.]

The Shaw pack in general: Ass Backwards. [Listen to the song, it's a vibe.]

Vincent: Molly. [Because Vincent was a good girl and he knew the reasons why-]

Sam: Bed Of Roses. [He deserves his little emo song, let him have it.]

Alexis: Evening Wear. [Originally planned on only doing voiced characters, but "It's not fair to be compared to you" is a line that just fit too well.]

William(/Vega): 1989. [*insert old man joke here]

Elliott: What Do They Know. ["Mess me up beyond all recognition. For what it's worth, I'd do it again" - because this man will sacrifice himself and everything for Sunshine with no regrets and we love him for that.]

Blake: Pay For It. ["I don't want you to hate me. I want you to wanna hate me. I don't want you to date me, I want you to wanna date me" - his constant internal struggle with his feelings for Bestie summed up very nicely.]

Regulus: 3 S'. [Doesn't fit 100% but the sentiment is there.]

Avior: Due. [I could quote a line from the song here, but I'd end up just putting most of the lyrics here. So. "Die, my darling" is the one I will go with.]

Guy: Bitches. ["This is how it should be done" indeed.]

Aaron: Mastermind. [No, I will not elaborate.]

Honorable listener mention:

Freelancer: Sex for Homework. [In homage to their humble beginnings.]

[polyamorouspunk]

Omg fav metal bands???

(I’m trying to get into metal, so plzzz give me good recommendations!)

I’m assuming you like pop music since you mentioned Beyonce before, and are okay with NSFW topics based on your blog, which is what I’m going to be working with. There’s a lot that goes into metal music, but I think the main thing that everyone thinks of when they imagine metal music is the vocals, which is why I’m going to be splitting up songs by color based on color to dictate fully/mostly clean vocals, 50/50ish vocals, and heavy vocals. All of these songs still have elements of what makes them metal in the instrumentals though. Not only that, but I’ll be focusing mainly on metalcore, as it’s one of the more accessible and popular metal genres, especially on tumblr and people in my demographic (gender, sexuality, age range, country, etc.)

What Scene Queen might lack in lyrical prose she makes up for in topic. I swear every song is either about lesbian sex or misogyny. Come get you some girl metal to go with your girl dinner and girl math.

Pink Panther

Pink Rover

18+

Pink Push-up Bra

Electic Callboy, originally known by a different name, rose to popularity after the introduction of their new clean vocalist Nico and dropping some songs with really fun and quirky videos over the past few years.

Hypa Hypa

We Got The Moves

Pump It

Every Time We Touch (TEKNO Version)

Bring Me The Horizon was a staple in every emo kid’s playlist. If any band in the genre has not only stood the test of time but come out better than ever, it’s Bring Me. While they went through an experimental phase a few years ago that wasn’t really a lot of fan’s things, including mine, I think taking what was going on in that era and mixing it with their older sounds have produced an updated version of the band’s music that is reflective of the times, and honestly the best stuff they’ve ever put out.

LosT

Ludens

Kool-Aid

AmEN!

Dance Gavin Dance has literally been a meme for years due to their alarming history of kicking shitty vocalists out of their bands only to let them back in only to kick them out again… the only era of DGD I listened to was the Tillian era, which has come to an end officially this time. While DGD isn’t going to be for everyone not just because of their strangish music but also because there’s debate about separating the art (the weird music) from the artist (the numerous shitty vocalists) at one point they were my favorite band, and I still stand by them musically, and at least they have kicked out their shitty band members, unlike a lot of other bands in the scene.

Summertime Gladness

Blood Wolf

Young Robot

Death of the Robot with Human Hair

Feels Bad Man

Something New

Pop Off!

It is impossible to capture DGD’s vibe in only 4 songs

[malimaywrite]

gavin/freelancer | mature | wc: 7.1k

cw: mentions of childhood emotional neglect

notes: she/they freelancer, physical descriptors of characters included, non-canon backstory included, banner image from 'fall of icarus' (1607) by carlo saraceni, title taken from 'sunlight' by hozier | read on ao3 (log-in required)

It happened when they clutched tighter to him as they both lay tangled in the pale blue and yellows of their sheets. Not the kind of clutches he was used to with heavy breaths and flushed lips. No. It happened while they slept, their eyes closed as they drifted along the in between away from him. All soft and tucked away—peaceful. They shifted and curled closer. His heart fluttered. Thrummed and hummed louder than the birds that darted past the window. He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He'd lost count how often it happened now. When had he lost count? Freelancer opened their eyes. Smiled. And the sun rose inside of him. Warming him up and beaming the longer they looked. It terrified him. /// five times Gavin meant to say 'I love you.' (Takes place from months before to the night of 'Your Dom Incubus Confesses His Feelings to You')

the icarus to your certainty (oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight)

“You are wonderful, Freelancer. The light in my heart.”

It happened when they clutched tighter to him as they both lay tangled in the pale blue and yellows of their sheets. Not the kind of clutches he was used to with heavy breaths and flushed lips. No. It happened while they slept, their eyes closed as they drifted along the in between away from him. All soft and tucked away—peaceful.

They shifted and curled closer. His heart fluttered. Thrummed and hummed louder than the birds that darted past the window. He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He'd lost count how often it happened now. When had he lost count? Freelancer opened their eyes. Smiled. And the sun rose inside of him. Warming him up and beaming the longer they looked.

It terrified him.

“Who's watching who sleep now?” Freelancer muttered, all at once too close and too far from the racing in his chest. They stretched away from him for a moment. His bare skin where their arms had been cooled.

He ignored the incessant noise beyond his rib cage and propped up a smirk.

“I'm simply primed for an early morning round,” he said.

They snorted. And his heart gave a hard thud even at that. He stilled himself with a deep breath—taking in all vanilla and shea butter. All them.

“You are greedy,” they said, dragging out the last word. Their smile widened and the sun brightened.

“I could've said the same to you last night.” He tilted his head from their pillowcase. “Or the night before or the night before.”

He found himself pulling them in closer and closer with each 'or.' Freelancer needed thicker blankets. The morning chill always managed to slip underneath their sheets was all. Pulling them closer long after they'd reached euphoria kept him warmer. That was all. He told himself so for the thousandth time, each time rang more hollow. But a couple weeks ago, he'd started to admit it was partially to stave off his least favorite part of their morning afters.

Freelancer's arm draped across him again. They buried their face just into the crook of his neck and along the pillow. He rested his chin on the cloud of their hair. His hand caught in the coils and curls there. His other trailed along their back while Freelancer's fingers drew lazy circles along his. Their chest rose and fell against him, light breaths against his collarbone.

He didn't know how long they held each other. He didn't, but worlds could have collided and Aria could have turned to stardust and he wouldn't have dared to move. He'd have gladly spent his eternity just like that. Home.

He froze. That familiar terror pinpricked along his spine again. It overwhelmed him, bubbled in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed it down. That usually helped. Freelancer's fingers stopped their art. He scrambled for a sly comment, an innuendo. Something to distract them and himself.

“You okay?” they said, pulling away. Dark brown eyes stared up. A line formed between their brows.

An instinct. He placed a kiss right along the furrow, hoping to will it away. His lips lingered for a moment. Their face soft when he met their gaze again. The gentle kindness in them. The awe that swelled in him as he followed the sharp line of their nose and curve of full lips. His heartbeat banged a loud and cascading roar in his ears.

For weeks and weeks that fear had blossomed from the smallest of seeds. Every smile, every gaze, every touch ignited it. Another swallow. It hardly helped.

One of their eyebrows rose. He finally got himself to nod. A pause. Another soft smile from them. And the sun blazed—blinded him. The sharpest terror struck him yet again and he realized its actual name, the phrase that explained it. The truest of words.

He loved them.

He loved them.

“You sure?” They curled into him again. Their turn to pull him in. “You stiffened up a bit.”

The three words echoed in his head like a song. He tried to think of another tune before the air in the room could dissipate.

“Of course, deviant,” he let out slowly. “Your naked body is pressed up against me.”

They laughed. “My naked body is pressed up against you often.”

“But 'often' surely isn't enough.”

He felt their smile against him before they rolled away with another stretch. They sat on the edge of the bed completely out of reach. There it was. There was his least favorite part of morning afters.

Freelancer checked their phone from their organized clutter of a nightstand, balked, and shot up faster than he could blink. They grabbed one of the sheets to cover themself. The three-worded song in his head played too loudly for him to conjure up a remark quick enough.

“'Often' will have to be enough,” they said. “I set it for PM, not AM.”

They grumbled at themself before darting to the bathroom in a half tiptoe, half sprint. The dragging sheet dropped before the door clicked shut. He didn't realize he'd had his own small smile on his face until the sound made it drop, until the room chilled after. The most unsteady of breaths left him as the faucet cut on beyond the door.

He loved them. He loved them with everything in him and he didn't know what to do.

///

It happened when she yelled. Or yelped, rather.

“Why are you headed towards the only other car in the parking lot?” she said. A quick and strangled laugh followed.

Gavin gripped the steering wheel—both hands, as she'd requested—and slowed their crawl of a drive across their corner of the campus lot into a near stop. Her car—Chip, named for the several paint scuffs that decorated its bumper ever since she bought the used vehicle—sat at an angle across the white lines.

“Because when I drive well,” he started slow. Wondered if he should elude the truth, slip out of reach of sincerity. “When I drive well, you stop speaking.” He failed. He wanted to hear her voice, his spellsong. Always.

Even if it only begged him to use a blinker.

A heavy pause. He'd shifted the air, stifled it of the lighthearted. He dared to look at her and her face scrunched up. Warmth radiated off of her with that small smile, blanketed and eased any twist of tension in him. Beautiful.

“What is a demon on the road to do without direction?” he said, catching the daze in his own voice.

Freelancer lifted her eyebrows. “You want me to command you.”

He'd shifted things back into place. The drop in her voice and playful twinkle in her dark brown eyes threatened to shift something else. A quick and subtle surge of sexual energy from her flowed through him, made him sit up straighter.

He smiled. “We have tried it a few times.”

He never longed to be a telepath, but the second surge that rushed through him in wave told him she took a moment to relive one of those tries in her mind. He wanted to relive it with her.

She shook her head after an audible breath. Her focus lasered in on the emptied pavement ahead of them. He loved when she did that. He caught it during her long—sometimes too long—study sessions, her eyebrows bunched as she peered over lines of text. He etched it in his mind when she squinted in the mirror, comb in hand, and she tried to part her coils for braids; when she huffed, cheeks puffed, and stirred egg whites into stiff peaks during their dessert days.

She took another heavy breath. The tiniest surge. Barely enough to taste. He held in a sly comment.

“Let's head out to the street after one more lap.” Her voice steady. “I have a reward for you if you decide to be a traffic law-abiding citizen.”

His turn to lift an eyebrow. Oh? “Yes, deviant,” Gavin said.

They'd squeezed in some driving practice between her 17th century western magic history and intermediate levitation classes over the past week. Huxley's away game meant an almost six-hour road trip over the weekend and Damien declared that everyone would contribute to the drive over and back. An agreement everyone felt comfortable with until Gavin mentioned he couldn't remember the last time he drove. Lasko's eyes had widened at that. And they only grew wider when Gavin mentioned he somehow still had a license, however.

Freelancer had offered a driving retread before the concern could spill from Lasko's pretty mouth.

Gavin hadn't quite needed the lessons—the only thing related to humans' fast-moving metal contraptions that really confused him still were roundabouts—but it meant spending more time with Freelancer. A gift he'd always receive with gratitude, with reverence. As long as their lessons didn't mean longer study sessions for her or added stress, he'd welcome it. He found himself taking a couple glances over to her as the towering thick trees and D.A.M.N. dorms whipped by to see if she did as well.

He eased to a stop at the oncoming red light, flicked on his blinker, and waited to make a right turn. Students roamed by in a flurry of school logos and heavy book bags. Once they cleared out, he headed on. The sidewalk pedestrians and bars of the university stadium entrance in the distance blurred.

Her lips pressed against his cheek. Light and quick, the softest of touches.

Heat rose along the length of his neck, simmering up to his temples and to the tips of his ears. Luckily, the next light caught them right at the line. It was a little harder to ease into that stop. What? Gavin didn't know it was possible to surprise himself.

“What?” Freelancer said.

Whiplash might have followed with how quickly he faced her. He felt the confusion on his own face. Freelancer raised an eyebrow, snorted.

“You said 'what,'” she said with a smile in her voice. She leaned forward. Looked directly at his cheek. “Are you..?” Closer.

He was. He had never before. And especially not over the most chaste of kisses.

He caused flushed cheeks—trembling hands, flubbed sentences, and ceaseless moans—out of others. Once he sensed the person's attraction to him, it could happen as easily as blinking for him. Not a single instance of nighttime rendezvous and midday flirting had someone made Gavin blush. What in all of Aria was wrong with him? A thrum, an echo, a song played in the back of his head yet again—bang, bang, banged in his chest. He ignored it. He had to. It threatened to swallow him whole.

“Deviant,” he said, all performance as the light flickered green and traffic continued on. “I have been graced with a sizable share of kisses from you. Along every inch of me.” His words slowed. His lips on her body a trail that his mind followed. “And—while a welcome gift—a soft kiss to the cheek can't be enough to make a sex demon blush.”

It can't.

It can't.

It was.

It was when it came to Freelancer.

“Plus, Chip's A/C isn't working as well as it once was,” he added before he could stop himself.

He felt her smile before he spotted it in his peripheral. Warmth radiated from around Freelancer in rays. The sense of comfort and care from her wrapped around him. He swallowed hard. The only thing he wanted to do was nuzzle in it. He opened his mouth, hoping to remind her of the many times Chip had to bear witness to their rapture. But Freelancer's hand traveled the length of his arm until she pulled one of his own from the steering wheel and laced her fingers with his. Their linked hands rested between them. Her thumb glided along the back of his hand.

That familiar and incessant pounding. A frantic search for a tease followed. She had wanted both of his hands on the steering after all. But he found something else first: a beg. A bellow of a beg for him to not send her hand away from his—to not mess up what felt right. Of course that was where his hand should've been. Of course it was always, always, always meant to be interlocked with hers.

Thoughts like that had grown to loom larger and larger, harder to cut down and distract with each passing day. Maybe. Maybe he could've let them roam.

He lifted their hands and gave his own chaste kisses. One to each of her knuckles. Each one pressed three words against her skin.

///

It happened while knots formed and twisted tighter, threatening to snap with every Mother's Day Sale commercial and multi-colored tulip bouquet that seemed to catch her eye. He called her name in the middle of the grocery store—his hands full of her preferred pastry flour—as she stared at a set of pink balloons. The words 'Best Mom Ever' decorated the plastic in cursive. He rubbed her wrist at Max's—calling her hadn't worked that time—as her eyes bore into two women that ate in the booth behind him. The only difference between their small features was age as they sat closer than what seemed feasible. Freelancer flinched and smiled away his concern each time—clouds covered the sun.

Each knot tightened the closer that Sunday inched. He attempted to distract her the best ways he knew how—worshiping every line of her, leading her to the wealth of bliss she deserved when she wanted. He attempted to distract her in the ways he'd forced himself to learn how. He binged every comfort show she'd mentioned during their pillow talks with her. He'd hum the tune to the one with the field and parks in the introduction, recite parts of the opening monologue from the cartoon with the air elemental. It earned him a smile that lit her up each time.

Gavin tried every “kitchen sink” cookie recipe he could find, swapping with the human and magic way each time. He tasted cookie dough with her and off of her fingers. Her eyes gleamed every time a fresh cookie instantly appeared in his hand. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time while they waited for batches to bake. He gave her space when she asked. He recruited friends when Freelancer had the bandwidth for socializing. Huxley, Lasko, and Damien up for board, card, and video game parties often. Caelum ready for couch cuddling and more cartoons just the same. Every time he heard her laugh, something surged in him. He could feel when the knots in her loosened ever so slightly as if they were his own.

But that Sunday still came.

Gavin tasted her as morning streamed in from the curtains, they showered together, and made breakfast. He made sure to keep the television on streaming—keeping the commercials at bay—all the romantic comedies lined up and ready for another binge. With Freelancer's head going from his shoulder to his lap in 45-minute increments, they made it through two movies before she got up. She headed to her room with her phone in hand as credits rolled. Told him to give her a second, to start the next one if she took too long for him. The final logos appeared before she did. A tight smile on her face and the knots even tighter. The same thing again after the next film. Another departure, another twist.

He didn't want to press her, only held her hand when she rested against him again. A reminder that he'd be right there when she wanted to tell him what caused the new coiling, if it wasn't only the day itself doing so.

Freelancer left again in the middle of the next movie. Gavin paused. The 'Last Holiday' summary faded in over the actors' faces as she darted by.

“You didn't have to. I've seen this part,” she muttered. “Sorry, I'll be right back.” Another attempt at a smile. It dropped.

Gavin's stomach did the same.

Freelancer disappeared into the room. He started for the door after minutes that moved like days, but she burst out of the room before he could make it to the hallway. The phone gone and replaced with her half open book bag.

“I have a lot to do,” she said under her breath. Her frown deep, her head aimed at the floor, her shoulders low.

She maneuvered around him. Dropped herself and her bag with a thud between the plush of the pastel green couch and the dark hardwood of the long coffee table. She rummaged through her bag with her eyes still aimed at the floor. His chest ached in the worst of ways.

The feeling radiating from her sunk him into the depths of Dahlia. The heavy weight of despair, the cold and sterile and impenetrable fog of devastation. His insides quaked.

“I still have two finals to get through,” she said. Her fingers flicked through pages, never landing on anything. “I just have a lot to do. We can finish the movies later.”

He sat next to her, taking her in. She didn't look at him. Her eyes blinked hard at her textbook, portraits of famous energetics and elementals of the past few centuries flashed by.

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to place his hand on top of her frantic ones, cradle her face, rub her back. Anything to soothe her.

“Freelancer?” he said. That dear word asking all the questions and spilling all the worries he had in him.

A pause.

Freelancer's hands stopped moving. Dark brown eyes still on the page.

“I'm blocked,” she said. Her voice harbored the slightest tremble.

His head tilted, but he kept quiet. Waited. Let that beautiful mind of hers work through what she wanted, what she needed to say next.

“She still won't answer the phone.”

The room went cold. The tears Freelancer had tried to blink away spilled over. She finally turned to him.

“Gavin, she won't answer the phone.”

A choked back sob. A tear inside of him. They reached for each other at the same time. He cradled all of her on the floor. She gripped his shirt tight as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, tears dampening his skin. His chin rested along the puff of her curls. His arms wrapped around her as if doing so was all that would hold him together too.

The devastation thickened, threatening to choke him. Every sniff and gasp from her tore at him. He noticed the quake that shook his being again when she trembled against him. His magic. It did the same with her. Shuddering. The thuds in his chest begged him to clear the fog, to send her pain to the stars. His neck muffled her soft cries. His magic burned when she held onto him tighter. He did the same to her.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so...”

He shook his head. He'd expected her to say it. She apologized a little less now when people bumped into her, when she said 'no' to things, but apologizing when any emotion besides pure happiness made an appearance still happened often.

“You don't have to apologize for feeling,” he said again. He'd say it over and over until he could one day sense her belief in it. “You're hurting, Freelancer. Let yourself feel what you need to without judgment.”

Freelancer's childhood and adolescent stories made it seem as though her parents never allowed her that. Treated her as though she'd come into being fully formed and ready to care for everyone without complaint. Stories of her walking home from school to an empty house right before her younger siblings—all expectations for her to heat them food when she was barely even big enough to see the stove properly, to help them with their homework before she got to hers, to send them to bed before she got to dream. Her mother's only comment to her after a late night arrival was to critique the way Freelancer washed the dishes.

How her mother's distance began after Freelancer first showed her mom that she could make her old dolls fly.

“At least she didn't seem to hate me as much when I helped around the house,” Freelancer had said the night she'd first told him with a soft and weak laugh.

Gavin closed his eyes. Held her just that much tighter just like he'd done then.

Tales of the gap years “tending to the household” between high school and her local unempowered humans' university, the several semesters of mornings working at her neighborhood bakery and getting her siblings ready for school, her afternoons in lecture halls, her evenings either back to work or with her head in her books filled the nighttime talks between them. Any mention of stress in those years, of not being able to leave her bed was met with irritated dismissal from her mother. The pressure had built up in her, right in her core until it cracked.

“I couldn't do it anymore,” she had mumbled against his chest.

“You shouldn't have had to.”

The shatter happened days after she'd had to declare her withdrawal from college—the financial, mental, and physical strain too much—and hours before the high school graduation party for her youngest brother. One cold comment from her mother about how late Freelancer managed to pull herself out of bed, another on how she cooked the breakfast eggs too early, another about how her cake's icing hadn't set properly, how she'd set the tables wrong, how she didn't know how to tie her brother's tie, how she was of no help.

Freelancer remembered crying and opening her eyes to screams, shouts of 'where did she go?' The table, couch, and breakfast bar stools hovered high against the popcorn ceiling. She hadn't realized she'd cloaked until she ran into her room, flickered in and out of view in her dresser mirror. Freelancer was kicked out of the house by sunset.

“Why won't she at least just answer the phone?” Freelancer whispered. Barely audible even with her mouth so close.

After almost three months alone, all she essentially had was the name of a rumored magical academy and the auras she could always vaguely sense, but not name herself yet.

Freelancer's softening sniffs pulled him back fully. He rocked her ever so slightly as her grip on his shirt loosened. He wished on Aria that he could go back to those months, to the day Freelancer's magic finally had to scream out, to the years she spent small, suppressing, and placing a household on her shoulders because that seemed like the only way she could receive a single emotion beyond disdain from her mother.

“It's my first mother's day without...” she started. She didn't have to finish it.

He couldn't make up for it, the affection and care she deserved then. No one could. But he would spend all his eternities giving her all the affection and care he had in him. He didn't know if he could pull her any closer, but he tried. He'd always try. Her breathing steadied and his magic, his entire being, did the same.

Three words roared in his head for the umpteenth time since he'd finally admitted them that one terrifying morning. He let them spill from his mouth. It morphed into three different ones. Their meaning all the same.

“I'm sorry, Freelancer.”

///

Freelancer pulled the sheet over Caelum as he slept on the couch. A couple of their multicolored scrunchies rested along the base of his lavender horns and Dory stickers sat along his puffed cheeks. The credits for the fifth Pixar movie of the day scrolled up on the television screen. Freelancer smiled down at him before moving a small bowl of tropical skittles away from his limp hands.

Gavin didn't fight the smile that rose on his own face. Nor how much it grew when they approached him. The sun, all warm and bright. He leaned against the doorframe to their kitchen as Freelancer stopped right in front of him.

“I'm so glad he doesn't have to rely on actual sustenance from us,” they whispered. They popped a skittle in their mouth.

Gavin tilted his head. “Oh, don't be so harsh on yourself, deviant,” he started, voice quiet as well. “You have been a delectable source of sustenance for me at least.”

They snorted. A roll of the eyes followed a flicker of a glimmer before they headed into the kitchen. He let out a small, soft laugh as he joined them.

Freelancer poured the excess candy back into its bright blue packaging. They clipped it closed after pouring a handful into their mouth.

“You know?” they said through the candy. “I refuse to wake him, but I don't want the last movie he watched tonight to be 'Cars 2.'” They seemed to consider then shrugged. “As long as he liked it though then it's fine.”

“He did go...what was it?” Gavin said.

“Ka-chow,” they grumbled.

His smile grew. “That's right. 'Ka-chow' about fifty times before we got to middle.”

They pulled out three mugs. Gavin already knew what they were about to make. He leaned down to the low cabinets. They set out the one big and small grater. He pulled out a saucepan to place on the stove and turned it to medium-low. Freelancer poured milk in and then pulled out a bar of their favorite semisweet chocolate. They both started grating after Gavin added a pinch of sugar to the pan like he'd seen them do all the times before.

They both gave reviews of the movies they'd finished. Gavin had taken a liking to the one with the little robot, swore to Freelancer that someone who worked on the emotions one had to be empowered, and wondered why anyone would go to a stadium to only watch screens in the monsters' college one. They both finished their grating and Gavin poured the shavings into a glass bowl, letting Freelancer heat it up in the microwave. He'd somehow set it to defrost and low power last time he tried to warm anything in it.

The first set of thirty seconds hummed to a beep before Freelancer spoke up again.

“They have exemption exams,” they said.

He raised an eyebrow, running through the monsters' college movie in his head again. “When did they mention exemption exams?”

They shook their head. “Oh, no not in the movie,” they said. “D.A.M.N.”

He stilled, barely. But it was enough that Freelancer's gaze traveled to his shoulders, his stance. He forced himself to loosen. He didn't even know where they were headed. An eyebrow remained high and he made sure a sly smirk covered his face.

Freelancer held steadier than him. “You remember a few nights ago?”

“I remember all of our nights, deviant,” he said. “We can reminisce on the first, second, and third time you came apart for me last night.”

They didn't take the bait.

“We only kinda talked about it once,” they said. “But, you've been mentioning things about school for a couple weeks now.” They finished with a soft smile. One that made him want to step closer.

Had he?

His comment from last week hit him. Whilst walking Freelancer to class, he'd somehow got on the subject of how inconceivably handsome he'd look in a cap and gown. Another from a couple nights ago where Freelancer mused over making their schedule for next semester, rambled over an electro class they were nervous to take. Gavin urged them to head to Lasko if a class ever made them uncomfortable. How he wished he could have done the same. A final comment from yesterday. Freelancer had sent in their last essay for the semester and during a celebratory round of pizza and wings, he'd mentioned how much he had grown fond of writing essays back then—even the research ones.

Freelancer made it sound as though there were even more examples.

“It was on the D.A.M.N website,” they started again. “They had it a little hidden in the 'academics' section, but you can take this pretty comprehensive exam and get full certification. We can ask Lasko about it.”

Full certification.

The words a pang in both his sides. He'd stored that hope away after classes where he'd caught a whisper or two of 'leech' as he passed rows of classmates, after more than one professor scoffed at his interest in any subject that didn't center around him fucking, when morphing himself into someone he wasn't to get an A made him want to fade back into the Elision Well.

Freelancer had asked him if he'd wanted to go back for full certification awhile ago. The conversation flipped when he asked them if they wanted to be 'full of him.'

He must have been quiet for too long. He couldn't gather up an innuendo in any of it. His mind rummaged through all the reasons he'd set that goal aside and buried it deep.

Freelancer wrapped their arms around him, looking up.

“We can do study sessions together,” they said with another smile that rivaled the stars. They rubbed his back. His shoulders eased. “I can get you back for all the other sessions we've had. We could do practice quizzes, we could do the whole review and have you explain concepts back to me, we could do flash cards. I love a good set of flashcards.”

Light swelled in his chest. He'd finally managed to move his arms around them, their words jolting his body.

“If you want to go the other route, I can make sure you don't have to take that shitty class ever again,” they said. All defiance and defense in their voice. He took in a deep breath and shea butter comforted him. “You shouldn't have to since you already have the credits. I'll head down to any counselor's office if they tried it.”

Gavin could not get a single word out of his mouth. Care and conviction radiated off of them with enough intensity to warm him up from the inside out. Waves of it hugged him tight.

“You get to choose how you get it,” they said, "if you want to get it."

That got his mouth to open, but he had to take more than a couple of deep breaths in. There didn't seem to be enough air in the kitchen.

“It was a joke, Freelancer,” he said, deflating. “They were jokes. What you all call 'the funnies.'”

Freelancer only kept their gaze on him. So gentle and kind. It overwhelmed him, stripped him naked in the only way that made him uncomfortable.

They nodded, but placed their warm hands along his cheeks to cradle his face. The slightest tremble of a chill rushed through him. Their lips against his, just as gentle as their gaze had been.

They tasted sweet.

Their forehead rested against his for days, months, centuries. All until they pulled away enough to look at him again.

“I know in my heart of hearts that you would do amazing, Gavin.”

The sun would never set again.

Gavin had to will himself to take in breaths slow. Freelancer's words carved themselves into the depths of him. He'd never had someone, anyone give the slightest hint that he could strive for something—accomplish something. Heaviness in his chest. That familiar thrum and song that played in his head. He welcomed it. And the tiniest candlelight flicker in the pit of his stomach, one that once went out when he too declared his withdrawal from school. It felt a bit like hope. That hope felt safe with them.

He wasn't ready to fan the flame larger. He'd explain that to them later. He didn't know if he ever would be, but their dark eyes on him made ask himself again.

“Thank you, Freelancer,” he said with his song. His voice garbled even to his own ears.

Freelancer dropped one hand and rubbed his cheek with the other. The room continued to suffocate him, everything in him threatened to bubble over. He almost asked to step away for a moment. Instead, he let his head tilt, let it relax into their hand. They'd beamed at him before he closed his eyes. Their thumb still grazed his cheek, their body so close to his. All warmth radiating from them yet again.

The softest of any laughs huffed through his nose. All those romantic comedies they'd finished. The declarations from the tops of monuments and between the greenery of parks. None of them—not a scene nor a monologue—had described love well enough.

He opened his eyes to the sun again and kissed them.

A knock and a creak of the door before it could even register.

“I tried really, really, really, really, really hard to wait for when smooches were over to ask,” Caelum started at the door, sheets wrapped around him and over his head. They pulled apart with a snort from Freelancer. It took Gavin a bit longer to blink out of his haze. “I even knocked like you told me to, Gavin, but I didn't know how many times to knock to stop the smooches. Smooches were making you both really, really happy and I want you both to be really, really, really, really happy 'cause it makes me really, really really, really, really happy times infinity and infinity is a big number. I think it's the biggest...”

Caelum continued his ramble as Freelancer turned off the boiling milk. They headed to him, patted the sheet pulled taut over his head and horns. Caelum interrupted his numbers ramble to circle back to the topic of 'smooches.' Another easy smile graced Gavin's face.

“After smooches,” Caelum continued, “can we watch Rata—ratatulle? Ratatoe? Ratatat? Ra—can we watch the rat one?”

Freelancer threw an arm around his shoulder. He moved closer into them with a little shuffle before they spun back to face the living room.

“Absolutely,” they said. “And I think it might even be infinity plus one times better than the one we just watched.”

Caelum gasped as they both left. “Infinity plus one?”

The door swung shut and their muffled talk faded. The small smile on Gavin's face only grew. A huff of a laugh through his nose. That light, a kaleidoscope of color filled him to the brim. The haze and daze still hovered all around him, spinning him around as he stood still. He half-wondered how his legs hadn't given out, how much wider his smile could get. His cheeks ached. The imprint of their hands continued to warm them.

That candlelight flicker in the pit of his stomach grew.

///

“Really though,” Freelancer said, gesturing to the night sky. “She's gonna wake up every day not knowing who he is or her own kid. In her mind, she went to bed years ago in her own room in a house with her dad and brother. She wakes up and she's on a boat with a whole kid and husband.” Their jaw dropped. “The days where she woke up visibly pregnant.” Their eyes widened.

Gavin snorted as they huffed. Their head rested on his lap. They both lounged at the center of the courtyard along the trimmed grass, between the reach of high-branched hackberry and pistache trees—Huxley had told him the names. Underneath lamp posts' glows, an occasional student strolled down the alumni bricks of the walkways—the names and years of graduates of old etched into the steps leading to study halls.

“Horror story,” Freelancer finished. A forced shudder ran through them. “Not a bad movie, but I think we should start on the pure comedies next.”

He raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to..?”

A smile from them. One rose on his own face before he even noticed it.

“Is there one you want to start with?”

He'd considered after a moment. Freelancer asked him what he wanted often—movies, food, how he wanted them—and he still wasn't used to it.

“I do remember a certain 'Spaceballs' coming up in conversation,” he said slow, ready for their reaction.

“How did I not guess that would be the title you'd remember?” they said. They rocked side-to-side against him. “We should do that first then try 'Friday.'”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Don't the five of us have that trail hike then?”

They shook their head. The curls of their afro danced along his upper thighs. He placed a hand along the coils puffing at their hairline, fingers gliding over the soft strands. Freelancer closed their eyes for a few moments and breathed in deep. That familiar warmth radiated off of them. Their eyes shot open.

“Oh, no,” they said. “It's a movie.”

That didn't help the confusion. “They made a movie about a day?” A head tilt. He shrugged inwardly the humans made movies about talking toys. The concept wasn't that odd.

“Not technically,” they said. “It's a specific Friday for these characters.” A pause. “It's where that one old phrase 'Bye, Felicia' came from.”

His expression must have given him away. They seemed to read it quickly.

“It's a phrase to dismiss someone,” they explained, waving away the sky. “She was a neighbor?” Another shake of the head. “She came over to the main character's house and wanted to borrow their microwave. Or was that a different scene?” They waved themselves away that time. “We'll see.”

He huffed. “Why anyone would want to do that escapes me.”

“One day I'll get you to use one properly,” they said with a quick laugh—music that floated up beyond the leaves.

He waited for both songs to quiet just enough for him to speak.

“There are more important lessons, my deviant,” he said. A pull dragged him down to kiss them.

Freelancer kept their eyes closed long after he'd straightened back up. Their full lips drawn into another smile. Gavin nearly kissed them again.

Their recent movie review soon followed. Freelancer reminisced over the 'dial-up noise' and the robotic 'You've Got Mail' voice. They both bounced scenes of their favorite Tom Hanks—Freelancer had to remind him of the actor's name twice—movies. They each attempted to remember the complete, itemized list of the ways to make shrimp that one of the major characters mentioned in a favorite—they always forgot one of the two ways to fry it.

Their talk trailed off into Gavin's attempt to help Freelancer make fried sweet potato hand pies and how often Gavin had asked them why they'd clutched a box of baking soda so tight. They agreed to make the apple pie version soon and Freelancer remembered the last time they'd had it. They'd scarfed them down on an elementary school camping trip as all the other kids looked up at the stars too and made up their own connected constellations. Freelancer and Gavin proceeded to do the same through fits of laughs and innuendos Gavin made sure to find. And Freelancer asked if they both could look at the same set of stars when he was in Aria.

The moon roamed higher in the black ink of the sky and they quieted down after long, settling into comfortable near-silence of cicadas and footsteps. The gold hue from the lamp posts painted Freelancer's dark brown skin, highlighted the same deep tone in their eyes. Both of their gazes remained locked on the other and that was all it took.

The earth pulled him under and he couldn't look away from them, tethered. He felt his breaths deepening, felt the air shake inside him. The song drummed in his head louder than any passing conversation and toll of the courtyard bell. It traveled down from the top of his head to the tips of his ears to the center of his chest. Louder and louder as they looked at each other. That haze of light, of care and affection and warmth was home to him. It hovered from them to him. He knew it radiated from him too. He wished they could sense it from him. He had to let them know. He needed them to know.

His heart, all double-timed thuds slammed against his rib cage at the prospect. My love, my love, my love was what the thuds sounded like. He swallowed hard.

Gavin had to distract himself. Had to pull back.

He kissed Freelancer instead.

Slow, languid. The song deafened him. Their lips soft against his. The roaring, the pounding only grew louder. He had expected it.

He breathed them in once their lips parted, finally a steady inhale.

Gavin meant to mutter one of his innuendos. He scavenged for one about the kiss, about their head in his lap. Anything. Anything to lessen how overwhelming it was just to look into their eyes again. He couldn't find one.

He sat there with Freelancer under the stars, holding each other with their gazes, and that was enough for him. More than enough. It felt like coalescing, coming into being all over again when he was with them. All natural and ease and magic. That same magic thrummed in him like it called to them.

Gavin was so immensely and impossibly happy.

“What are you thinking?” Freelancer said softly.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

An instinct.

He let that clear and truest song play as his scavenge finally found him a sly remark. It felt like the last one he would be able to dig up over this before everything in him forced out that spellsong to them. His fingers trembled as he laced them with theirs.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

An unsteady breath once again.

“What you'll look like tied up underneath me,” he said low. Voice trembled even more than his hand had, more than any teasing comment that slithered from his mouth ever had.

Freelancer didn't scoff or roll their eyes. No wave or ripple of sexual energy rushed off of them. No soft slap to his chest or giggling shift away from him. Only that same warmth. Brighter.

They squeezed his hand.

“Me too,” they said. Just as low as him. Their eyes gleamed as he watched their smile rise.

And sunlight beamed in the middle of the night.

[rhapsodynew]

The history of the song🎧🎸🎤

"Sailing" is a ballad best known as "Rod Stewart's hit." It was actually written by Gavin Sutherland of the Scottish band Sutherland Brothers (1972).

Then this song rose to the 54th line. But Rod drew attention to the band only thanks to his roommate, who was delighted with their concert. Later, when Rod was looking for additional material for the album, he turned to the guys.

The track was recorded and released on an album in 1975. The song was also released as a single, although the musician was categorically against it, saying that there are other excellent compositions on the album. The variant of the Genus rose high in the charts of many countries. However, it was not successful in the USA and Canada, for this reason the composition was not performed at concerts in these countries. But one Canadian journalist wrote in his author's column, "I've already been to thirty Stewart concerts, but I still haven't heard Sailing. Surprisingly, Rod made changes after the article, and during a performance in Montreal, before performing the song, he even mentioned the journalist and his request.

Gavin (the author) said about the meaning of the work:

"Most people think that the song is about a guy who crosses the Atlantic to be with his girlfriend. In fact, the song has nothing to do with romance or ships. This is a story about humanity's spiritual odyssey through life on the path to freedom."

[carpenoctxrn]

Doctor. Doctor. (Spencer Reid xFemReader)

Chapter 4: The Arrival (Part two)

Chapter 3 is here

Join my taglist by clicking here so you dont miss my future works.

Warning: mentions of receiving fingering. Submissive Reader. Cussing. Porn Video. mentions of masturbation. Reader wanting to be stalked. Hand kink. Size kink.

P.O.V Y/N

My breath hitched in my throat. As I felt heat rising to my cheeks and my heart accelerating in excitement.

How could I forget? The survey.

A few months ago there was a survey link posted on Doctor’s website. He had just come out with a masturbation + dirty talk video and I had squirted so many times that in my sex haze mindset I filled it out. 

In that form he didn’t ask for pictures, just basic questions such as what are your hobbies, favourite food, author, and an optional question. Your phone number.

“It's not that I don't trust you Gavin, I just know Y/N and her charms,” Phil commented as he sat down. 

Snapping back to the present I looked at Phil and gave an eyeroll to him whilst a shy smile with a wave of my hand to Gavin. Phil pulled out the parking lot and began racing down the main street that eventually connected to the interstate freeway. 

“We’ll be late by thirty minutes,” I said, stating the obvious.

“I know, I know. I’m planning on blaming it on the cakes,” Phil said jokingly.

“I don’t know if we can do that to those cakes, Gavin put in a lot of work into them. Especially since they are all made to order,” I teased back Phil.

If he were an anime you could see forehead shadow twitching on his head. 

“Seriously Y/N do. Not. under. any . circumstance. fuck . the. One. dude. Who. I. Enjoy. Drinking. With,” He said, enunciating every word.

“I will not fuck him,” I said grabbing Phils bicep as he looked at me, “I solemnly swear to just flirt with him and that's it,” 

“I am okay with that,” Phil said.

My phone vibrated a bit and I opened it up to see a text message from the unknown number aka Doctor.

So doctor, do I get an address in exchange for my introduction?

A blushing smile graced my face at his text and I quickly turned my face away from Phil’s line of sight. God Doctor just seemed to feel me with buzz. The thought of him texting me was exhilarating. Him texting me about a potential secret fuckfest between us whilst I’m in a car with someone else, that ignited a much darker invigorating feeling. I crossed my legs as the familiar pulse of my pussy spread through the bottom of my core. I could feel the potential arousal slicking every move I made. 

Y/N: That depends doctor.

I teased him. God I didn’t even know if it was working or if this man is even a doctor or even a man. But the mystery was what captivated, the what if’s.

Doctor: On what?

Y/N: What can you offer me more than your name?

Doctor: I’ve given you my name yet you haven’t given anything. I believe this is unfair, Doctor.

Y/N: You introduced yourself to me, it was the polite thing to do. 

Y/N: A societal norm for basic interactions.

Doctor: Point noted. What would you like instead?

Y/N: I want…….

Y/N: I want you to find me.

Doctor: Why?

Y/N: Because the idea of being stalked is more arousing than it should be, but being stalked by a masked man has a certain forbidden do or die feeling to it.

Doctor: I didn’t expect you to be so open to a stranger so quickly.

Y/N: Clearly we haven’t met in a bar.

Doctor: Clearly cause then I wouldn’t be stranger.

“We’re here,” Said Phil as he parked the car in the driveway of a beautiful villa like home.

The sky was a beautiful canvas of purple, pink, and blue. Smooth rigids of different clouds battled to reflect the golden hue emitted from the sunsetting.

Walking to the big mahogany door through a well watered garden drew a smile on my face. The roses, chrysanthemum, and tulips were in shades of white, yellow, and oranges. They looked so complimented. 

“Ah Phil!” Said a very exquisite looking old man. His coat was all black suede, fitting him to a T. 

“Agent Rossi, good to see you,” Said Phil shaking his hand as he held onto the two boxes of goodies.

“Agent is for when we are on the clock. Off the clock, I’m David,” he spoke with a calmness to his voice.    

“David the Writer you mean,” Said a blonde woman who seemed to be in the late 50’s but appeared 40. She wore a white dress with floral imprints whilst her hair was tied beautifully, “Hi, I’m Krystall,” she introduced herself to Phil as she shook his hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you Ms. Krystall, I’m Philips Brooks, and this my friend Dr. Y/N Monterey,” Phil said with kindness as he exchanged formalities. 

“Oh my, don’t you look like belle,” Krystall said as she came towards me and hugged me, “Come in now, it's freezing outside,” she said as she guided me inside as she asked me, “So what type of a doctor are you?”

“Oh I am a Family Medicine doctor. I mostly work with patients of all ages who have chronic diseases and general complications,” I responded with a shy smile and felt my cheeks burning.

I prided myself in my work but the reaction I would get from most people made it seem like I was boasting. 

“How lovely, you know my daughter wanted to be a doctor but she soon realised any sight of blood made her nauseous,” Krystall spoke lovingly as she guided me to the kitchen that was conveniently right next to the patio that showed a group of people enjoying a drink around the fire or dancing.

“Here you go,” Phil said as he handed me the two boxes of cupcakes. My mouth worded out a small meak thank you that was barely audible. 

You see I realised my beautiful clothes, my astounding jewellery and my makeup is my comfort when meeting people I do not know. It's a facade I put together that allows them to like me better. And if they like me better I’ll be more comfortable being my horny, with a dark humour, funny self with them that cusses like a sailor when given the chance.

Feeling myself getting shy of all the new people around me I quickly took the opportunity with my cupcakes to make a conversation with Krystall.

“Where would you like these?” I say softly with a smile and wide eyes. 

“Oooh I have the perfect cupcake stand for these!” Exclaimed Krystall as she raised on her tippy toes to grab something from the tall cabinet but failed to reach it.

“Here maybe I could get it?” I offered. Seeing as my 5 inch heel added a good height to me but alas it wasn't enough. However I did not stop. I still went on my tippy toes and kept trying to reach the box.

Taking a deep breath I stretched again. Another deep breath and I changed my approach to how I was reaching for the box. Finally taking another deep breath I could smell a musky scent of sandalwood with light notes of salt. With confused furrowed eyebrows, I turned around to find whose scent invaded my senses. 

My eyes were met with a Dr. Who tied, tucked neatly in a black silk vest that matched the black shirt inside. I feared looking up, scared I would accidentally create a more awkward situation. 

Instead I looked down a bit, the black fitted trousers that the men in front of me was wearing which paired perfectly with dark brown leather dressing shoes and belt. The mahogany tones of the shoes and belt made sure to compliment his entire outfit. He looked slick and so alluring. 

The figure in front of me stepped away and spoke.

“Here’s the cupcake,” a familiar voice said.

“Thank you Spencer, I was scared that Dr. Y/N might fall with her going on the tips of her toes,” Krystall spoke as she opened the box, “Especially with those high heels,” her voice carried out and wavering a bit as she took the cupcake stand out of the box. 

As she sat the cupcake in it's place in the centre of the appetisers presented on top of the beautiful marbled counter top I looked over to Dr. Spencer Reid.

Stepping in front of him to get his attention I made eye contact with him. A sudden rush of goosebumps tingled from the tip of my shoulders to the bottom of my spine. The invasion of sandalwood and salt brought forth a comfort that felt misplaced to be present. Smiling, I opened my mouth to speak.

“Thank you for helping me,” I said kindly. Genuinely appreciating his generous action.

“It was no problem really. I saw you struggling from across the room and decided to use my height for a much needed advantage.” He ended his sentence with his bottom lip in his mouth whilst forming a smile and an awkward head nod.

“Well I am happy you appeared before Phil did, if not instead of helping me he would have stood there and teased me for my height,” I said laughing a bit trying to show my appreciation towards but also to lighten the mood.

In an awkward situation if someone lacks more confidence than me I tend to feel confident enough to talk. Damn I am submissive.

“Like I said, it was no problem. I thought you would have reacted differently.” He said genuinely with the same look on his face with the same nod.

“How would I have reacted differently?” I asked genuinely confused at this claim. 

“Well, I kind of stood so directly behind you that I thought you would have seen that as an inappropriate gesture.” Spencer said as he broke eye contact and his eyes darted to the ground. But not before I could observe his cheeks become painted in a light pink hue.

Is he blushing or his he embarrassed?

“Oh it wasn’t inappropriate at all. I promise. It just felt to me like you were helping me out and I am so grateful for that. If not I would have fallen on my face for sure. You stood behind me VERY professionally Dr. Reid,” I said whilst calming him down but also joking with him.

“Oh, that makes me feel less awkward then,” he said as he looked up again with an actual smile framing his face.

My eyebrows flinched a bit as I realised how attractive he looked. His long tousled hair was messy but it provided another layer of shadow on top of his stubble that framed his already chiselled cheek bones. 

His all black attire resembled somewhat of a those fictionally men who are indespicablely hot and are maliciously good in bed. The men who are intoxicating by just their scent, their height, their hands, their presence, and just their being.

Suddenly I felt all the confidence I had previously washed away from me as I realised that this man in front of me is attractive to me. A nervous lump of breath I swallowed hoping to gain some sort of traction back.

Cupcakes!

“Oh Krystall! Where would you….” I spoke suddenly trying to break the small seconds of silence that had formed. Turning around as I said those words I saw Krystall outside dancing and some of the cupcakes up on the cupcake stand and majority left.

“I think I am just going to help Krystall a bit and put those cupcakes away,” I stated as I excused myself and planted myself right by the cupcake stand and the cupcakes. 

“Here I’ll help,” Spencer said as he stepped right next to me. His scent fueled every breath I took. His warmth radiated to my entire body and announced its presence to my very soul with his heat. My heart beated faster whilst my hands moved timidly whilst walking next to him.

The task at hand was simple, pick up a cupcake and put it on the stand carefully. My head knew that and so did my heart but my body felt weak doing such a simple task. It didn't help that the size difference between us was making me feel intimidated. And I LOVED feeling this way.

Feeling like a ragdoll that he can push against the counter and have his way with me.

Don't compare your hands.

Don't compare your hands.

DON'T COMPARE YOUR HANDS!!    

The only reasonable thought that ran through my head. I knew the dark thoughts that would be roused at the sight of our hand size difference. I knew what I would be thinking for the next two hours. I knew that if I avoided putting my hand right next to him I’ll be fine.

“Hey can you put this last cupcake, I’ll just run the empty boxes down to the bin on the side of the house,” Spencer explained innocently.

OH. MY. SEX KARMA. HOW COULD YOU!

“Ofcourse,” I said, smiling. 

Gulping in a ball of air my cold fingertips of my right hand grabbed the cupcake, only for it to be so damn weak from touching his fingertip that I dropped it.

Jerking forward I grabbed the bottom of the cupcake with both hands whilst Spencer’s hand came underneath both my hands. His hands were warm and massive. It took One and a Half of my hands to make One of his hands completely. 

“Sorry” I whispered meekly as I turned away from him to begin my cursed thoughts of clumsiness and size kink.

Imagine being clumsy and he uses his huge hands to stabilise you. His hands provide warmth but as he inches closer, closer to the edge of your backless dress the warmth I felt is replaced with exciting goosebumps. 

Where would his hand stop?

Would they leave big red imprints on my ass?

Would he bend me over and stand behind me? As one of his hands fingers my pussy and the other holds my hand above me?

I guess now at least I have something to keep my mind busy with so I’m not severely socially awkward.

Hopefully nothing gets in my mind during this time.

My mind spoke as a small comforting smile formed.

“I can’t believe you're crushing on a man you met ten minutes ago,” Phil exclaimed in a whispered tone.

“I can’t help it. He's just so…god I don’t know he flusters me,” I spoke trying to make sense of what is happening to me and what I was feeling towards the man known as Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Y/N don’t bring in your whoreness into this circle. These people matter to me,” He spoke sincerely.

“I promise I won’t do anything for you to be ashamed of me,” I said genuinely. 

“Thank you, I love you, you know,” He said while hugging me. 

“I know I love you too Phil,” I said, hugging him back.

Phil and I were close in the sense we shared our losses with each other and celebrated our victories together. I did it because I didn't have anyone. He did it because he didn't have anyone either.

Saying I love you was rare but common in our relationship, in a platonic sense it was always said and implied. We never had romantic feelings for each other that much we knew well enough.

Smiling, I stepped back to the sound of coughing from Phils hug.

“Phil, hey,” Spoke Spencer awkwardly

A/N: First of all yes this takes place after season 14 and has minor adjustment. No spoiler regarding Season 14 or 15.

Chapter 5 is here

Taglist: @hopelessromantichopefulthinking @lovemesickly @awesomeness1679

[spacesquidlings]

Baby Fever

Description: What started off as an innocent enough joke turns into much, much more, as Gavin shows just how much he wants a baby

Pairings: Gavin Bai x MC/OC (Rowan)

Warnings: Breeding kink, multiple mentions of pregnancy, edging, unprotected sex/creampie, multiple orgasms, vaginal sex, praise kink, light dom/sub dynamics, light BDSM. This fic is for individuals 18+ ONLY.

******************************************

The evening started innocently enough. Rowan had asked Gavin if he wanted to cook dinner with her, and although they had both tried their hardest, the food had still come out looking less than appetizing.

The meat had stuck to the pan, burning while they’d struggled to peel more vegetables and potatoes than either of them thought was possible. The premade salad they’d bought was already wilted when they opened the package, and neither of them were particularly willing to go back to the store to get another one.

The potatoes turned out well enough, but the vegetables were overcooked, taking on the burnt, smokey taste of the charred meat still stuck to the pan.

Even once the spices had been added and they’d gone through the steps of making a nice sauce to drown everything in, still the food tasted strange. Not exactly wrong, but not exactly right either. It tasted a little like charcoal, likely from the burnt meat, with a strange, almost grainy consistency.

Gavin sighed, long and loud as he moved the pots and pans into the sink, frowning as he turned on the faucet. “I’m starting to question the point of trying out all these new recipes.”

Rowan paused from where she was scraping the unsavoury remains of their food into the trash. “What do you mean?”

“Well can’t we just order takeout if we want something a bit fancier or complicated?”

Rowan frowned down at the trash before closing it. “I mean I wouldn’t say any of this was particularly complicated. We just need to practice more.”

Gavin heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “We could still order takeout for some things.”

Rowan pouted, fatigue from their failed meal weighing her down. She walked over to where Gavin stood at the sink, glaring down at the pots as steam rose from the hot water.

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his back. “Well you know how we’ve talked about having a baby, right?”

Gavin stilled, his heartbeat stumbling in his chest as he tried to keep control of his breathing. He nodded, forcing out a quiet “yes.”

“Okay, well imagine I’m pregnant.”

Gavin bit down on his tongue, doing his best to focus on the hot water filling the sink, the scrape of the sponge against the pan, the charred remains of food swimming in the bubbling water.

He definitely wasn’t imagining Rowan pregnant, definitely wasn’t picturing her belly swollen and round with their child. He definitely wasn’t imagining how he would feel, knowing that it was his baby inside of her. That it would be because of him that she would be pregnant.

“Okay,” he gritted out, scrubbing the pan with extra force as he became a little too aware of her arms around his waist, of her hands resting on his abdomen, of how tight his pants were becoming around his cock.

“And that it’s like after midnight or something, and I’m craving something ridiculous, but all the takeout places are closed,” she continued, poking her head out beneath his arm, trying to peek up at him from beneath her lashes.

“But I want that food so bad I’m in tears because being pregnant means I’d be incredibly emotional.”

Gavin nodded, staring straight ahead, his movements jerky and robotic as he set the pan into the drying rack and dumped a plate into the sudsy water.

Because it was becoming harder to stop himself from imagining his Rowan pregnant. It was becoming far too difficult to stop himself from imagining how she would become pregnant. How he would hold her down while her legs shook around his waist. How the inside of her thighs would be smeared with his release, how it would drip from inside of her, proof that he filled her entirely.

“And you wouldn’t want me wandering around trying to cook if I was pregnant and upset, would you?” She asked, a note of teasing in her voice that made his cock twitch.

He was imagining her cheeks flushed, her eyes half-lidded as she panted, murmuring his name like it was a prayer, like it was the only thing that mattered to her. Like he was her whole entire world.

And then once she was dripping with his release her belly would swell with his child. And what was better proof that she was his, that Rowan was his wife? That she was his, that he was her entire world, that she had allowed him inside of her, had allowed him to make her pregnant.

“No,” he muttered, scrubbing furiously at a pot with congealed butter in the bottom.

“So then you’d have to cook for me, right?” She continued, pinching his side. “So I wouldn’t be sad!”

He nodded, biting down so hard on his tongue he could taste blood now.

“And you don’t want me to be sad, do you?”

He shook his head, dunking his arms nearly elbow deep into the water, hoping it would somehow snap him out of his thoughts, would somehow stop him from getting any harder.

It did not work in the slightest.

Rowan pressed a kiss to the back of his neck before she pulled away, and it took all of Gavin’s self control not to turn around and throw her over his shoulder right there.

But he didn’t want to smash the dishes he was holding, and he knew that if he loosened his grip on his self control he would surely shatter the plates. So instead he focused his attention on washing each pot and pan and utensil, trying and failing to keep his mind from wandering.

It was truly a monumental task trying to restrain himself, especially as Rowan continued chattering about what if she was pregnant, would he cook for her? Would he comfort her even when her emotions were out of control?

What if?

What if they tried right now?

What if he made her pregnant right now?

Gavin sucked in a shallow breath, wiping his hands on the dish towel with mechanical precision.

“Babey? Is everything alright?”

Gavin spun around, his hands cupping Rowan’s face, barely keeping himself in check now. “I cannot stop thinking about how much I want to make you pregnant.” His hands shook and he drew in a quivering breath. “Right now.”

Rowan’s eyes widened, colour staining her cheeks as his words sunk in. “Are you serious?”

Her voice was shaking too, her hands coming to rest on his wrists.

He drew in another breath, not to ignore how tight his pants felt anymore. His mind was straying again, imagining her legs spread for him, his fingers sinking inside of her while she whimpered and moaned as he coaxed her towards her release. Or maybe he would use his tongue, and scrape his teeth along all the most sensitive parts of her as she squirmed. And then on the heels of her orgasm he would take his cock and he would-

“Gavin?”

Her voice drew him from the reverie, and too late did he realize how warm his face had gotten, how hard he was grasping her face.

“I am serious,” he said, dropping his hands to her waist, holding her close. And yet it was nowhere near close enough. Not until he’d done away with their clothes and he was buried deep inside of her. Not until he was breathing in the smell of sweat on her skin and felt the race of her pulse beneath his lips.

Her chest heaved, her pupils dilating. He could feel how her hands trembled against his wrists, how her nails dug into his skin. And when she spoke again, her voice squeaked. “Right now?”

He didn’t waste another moment, scooping her into his arms before she could gasp.

“Right now.”

Her face was red as the sky at sunset, her eyes glossy as she caught his gaze before flicking them away, her blush creeping down her throat.

The bedroom was upstairs, and Gavin took the stairs two at a time, feeling himself getting harder and harder at her ragged breaths against the crook of his neck. Her hair tickled his ear, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her heart beating so furiously he could feel it against his chest.

He pressed desperate kisses to her face and neck where he could reach, although it was hard when she’d buried her face against his throat, whimpering each time his lips and his teeth found her skin.

He paused in the doorway of their room, struggling to peel her away from him. Was it possible she was hiding from him because she didn’t want to do anything tonight? Maybe he’d made her nervous, or maybe she was feeling unwell.

The worries were like ice water sluicing over him, extinguishing the fire that had set him aflame.

“Rowan?” He murmured her name softly, afraid he’d upset her. “My princess, are you okay? Do you not want to…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Now that some of his earlier desire was gone he felt nervous, awkward. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, like he would stumble over whatever words he said.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders more, and he hissed at the sharp pain. Her brow wrinkled and she pulled her hands back, clutching them to her chest. “No, it’s not that.”

He pressed his brow against hers, their noses bumping together. Her voice was so small, he’d barely heard it. “What is it then?”

“I… I um…” She kept trailing off, her eyes flitting away, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

A smile was growing on his lips, heat creeping back over his skin where it had once been rinsed away only a few moments earlier. She couldn’t seem to find her words, couldn’t seem to focus on him at all. Her cheeks were so red, and her eyes were like bright stars against the flush of her face. Now that her hands were no longer desperately grasping at him he could feel them shaking, as though she were nervous. Or excited, perhaps.

He hoped it was because she was excited.

Her bottom lip quivered, and he had the overpowering urge to press his mouth to hers, to slowly draw in that bottom lip between his teeth until she whimpered, until he felt her melting against him. And then he would lay her down on the bed and peel each piece of clothing from her body and press his lips to her flushed skin until she was panting and desperate and needy for his touch.

Gavin struggled to force his mind to calm, to breathe slow and deep, lungs expanding as they filled with air. He needed to wait until she found her words; he wouldn’t do anything further until she told him it was okay.

“I guess you just caught me a little off-guard,” she managed, still not looking at him, the flutter of her lashes tickling his cheeks.

“In a bad way?” He held her closer, not daring to let her go just yet, not wanting any space between them.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and Gavin bit down on his own tongue to keep from focusing on it. “No, not in a bad way.”

“Then what is it?”

She shrugged, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I guess I hadn’t thought anything I’d said was much of a turn on.”

He chuckled, although a prickling heat rose on the tips of his ears and down the back of his neck. He looked away, unsure now what to say to explain himself.

How exactly did he explain how he’d become aroused thinking about her rounded belly, how he would fill her again and again, over and over until even the inside of her soft thighs were stained from his release. How he’d hold her legs to her chest for a while, and then he’d sink inside her again for good measure, until there was no question that their baby had taken root in her womb.

“Gavin?”

He was startled from the spiral of his thoughts by the sound of Rowan’s voice, of her cool palm cupping his flushed cheek.

He coughed, pressing his mouth into a thin line as he slowly locked his gaze with hers once more.

And his knees nearly buckled when he did, catching the light dancing in her eyes, the shy smile that had been on her lips before blossoming like a flower in the spring.

“What were you thinking of?” Her tone was teasing as she stroked his cheek. Her touch was light, little more than the brush of a feather. It was so light he almost didn’t notice the way her hands still shook, the way her voice trembled.

Almost.

He breathed deeply, doing his best to hold himself together. “I was thinking of you.”

“Of me?” A breathy laugh escaped her lips, and it hurt how much he ached to press her into the bed and coaxing every little sweet, delicious noise from her lips that he could.

He hummed, sliding his mouth to her ear, his words little more than a breath as he spoke. “I was thinking of you lying on the bed, spread open just for me. Of all the pretty sounds I want you to make while I stuff you full of my cum.”

She squeaked, eyes going wide. Her face was so red he could have sworn it caught flame, her bottom lip trembling again as her breathing turned ragged. She couldn’t seem to hold up her smile from before, that glimmer of mischief washing away beneath his gaze.

“Well?” He asked, feeling mischief glittering in his veins like starlight winking in the night sky.

She frowned, and he watched as the gears in her mind worked, slower than usual as her chest continued to heave. “Well, what?”

He chuckled, grazing his lips along the curve of her jaw, resting them just above where her pulse fluttered in her neck. “Well what do you think?”

“What do I think of what?!” Her voice was a squeak, and he felt as she swallowed, as she tensed in his arms.

He sighed, although it was all for show. He was smiling, too, at how adorable she was. How wonderful and silly his wife was, cradled in his arms as she stammered over her words. How pretty the colour of her blush was, how sweet the sound of her voice was.

“Of me lying you on the bed,” he said, voice soft as featherdown. This was the important part, making his voice low and silken so her toes curled, so she clutched him and promised to do everything he asked because she wanted to be good. 

“And spreading your legs wide, all for me,” he continued, bumping his nose against the little gold chain around her neck as he lowered his head, breath ghosting against her collarbone. “So I can-”

She whined before he could continue, brow drawn as he looked back up to catch her gaze. Her eyes had gone dark, full of needy, desperate desire. “You really want to try making a baby?”

Her voice wobbled, and he laughed, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. “I do. I really do.” He wanted to fill her with as many babies as he could, wanted to spend every night filling her entirely until she was pregnant.

“Okay.” She ducked her head, her hair falling over her face. “Okay, I want you to do whatever you want.”

He was taken aback for a moment by her soft words, but quickly regained his composure, chuckling again as he finally passed the threshold of their room and carried her towards the bed. He would need to tease her just a bit longer for that.

“What was that?” He asked, settling himself on the bed, Rowan still caught in his arms. “You’re going to have to look at me while you’re saying that, princess.”

He could see the pout on her lips, imagined the furrow of her brow as she scowled, hidden as it was by her bangs. He’d seen it enough times to commit it to memory, the expression always emerging when he teased her.

“I’m not going to know what you want if you won’t look at me when you tell me,” he said, grasping her chin and gently turning her face up to look at him. He couldn’t help grinning as he caught sight of her pout; he adored how pretty she looked with her bottom lip pushed out, how her brow was creased from her glower. “Let’s try again.”

She was silent for a long moment before she averted her gaze again, trying to look away. He knew part of it was from how timid she could become during foreplay when he was in control, but he also knew a little of it was from the game she played, too. Seeing how far she could push him and how much she could get away with before he retaliated.

But the need to sink inside of her was far too great, and his patience was waning.

He turned her in his arms until she was straddling his lap, her mouth falling open in a gasp at the sudden movement.

“Tell me what you want,” he tried again, lowering his voice as he trailed one hand up her inner thigh. 

She’d elected to wear a pair of leggings and a dark green dress to keep her warm from the crisp autumn wind that had screamed through the day, tearing at the remaining leaves still clinging to branches and slamming against the windows and doors. It was a pretty outfit, and he’d told her as much that morning. But he knew now it would frustrate her, all that fabric dulling the sensation of his fingers stroking up her inner thigh and over all the spots she most loved being touched.

She tried shifting her hips, but he grabbed her waist with his free hand, holding her in place as best he could. It would surely be torturous for her, wanting to feel his touch and barely feeling a phantom of it in this position.

It seemed fair. After all, he’d endured enough torture as he’d washed the dishes earlier, instead of pressing her to the kitchen table and tearing her clothes off right there.

“Well?” He hummed, enjoying the way she glared at him, shoulders shaking, lips quivering as she tried and failed to catch her breath.

She whined, hands balling in the fabric of his shirt. “I want you to do whatever you want.”

He added a little more pressure to the hand stroking her, dragging his fingers across her clit. “Do you want me to fill you until my cum is dripping out of you.” He lowered his voice, leaning forward until his lips brushed the edge of her ear. “Until there’s a baby in your womb?”

“Yes.”

He clicked his tongue, enjoying himself perhaps a little too well as he drew his hand away and she whined, crestfallen now that he was no longer touching her at all.

“You have to say the words, princess.” He pressed his lips to hers, proud of himself for how chaste it was, only frustrating her father.

Rowan took a shaky breath, seeming to brace herself before repeating his words in little more than a whisper.

He grinned; he would accept that. He didn’t have the strength to keep teasing her now, and there were plenty of ways to make her blush, to make her squirm beneath his touch.

He kissed her again, much less chaste now, finally drawing her bottom lip beneath his teeth, moaning as she gasped.

“Good girl,” he murmured against her lips.

Then he was moving, turning and flipping her onto her back in half a breath, Rowan’s eyes wide as saucers as she found herself on her back.

His hands were on the hem of her dress, unceremoniously dragging it over her torso. But he froze when a tearing sound cut through the room, a rip the size of his head appearing on the bodice of her dress.

A line formed between Rowan’s brows, and she shot him an incredulous look as he stared at the hole. “Did you just-”

He grasped the fabric on either side of the rip, tearing it asunder, the scraps of fabric falling to the side as Rowan continued to gape, whatever she’d been about to say lost.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” was his only reply, and then he was taking the hem of her leggings and underwear and yanking them from her body in one fell swoop.

Blessedly, neither tore, and he tossed them to the side.

Rowan was still staring up at him, the flush on her cheeks spreading across her body, staining every soft curve in the pink of newly bloomed peonies.

He stroked her sides, the ache in his core unbearable already. She was so soft, so warm. He knew every inch of this beautiful body, every curve and roll, every stray freckle. He knew the places she liked to be touched best, the places perfect for placing his hands, the places to rest his head when they were finally through so he could breathe in the sweet smell of her. His wife, his Rowan.

He slid his hands over her hips, around the curve of her rear, squeezing with both hands until she bucked her hips, gasping at the touch.

“Gavin,” she murmured, chest heaving as he continued to touch her, reverently running his hands over her curves. He just needed a moment to admire her, before he did anything further.

“Just a minute, pumpkin,” he sighed, lowering his head to brush kisses to her belly. “I just need to look at you for a minute longer.”

“Gavin.” She sounded more insistent this time, and he raised his head in time to see her grinning, one hand sliding over her own breast.

He watched, mesmerized, as she squeezed it once, as she began slowly circling her thumb around her hardened nipple. Her eyes never left his face, and although she had turned a bright scarlet, she didn’t seem to hesitate.

Movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he noticed in time to see her other hand slipping between her legs, her smile widening.

The attempt snapped him from his stupor, and he grabbed her wrist, pressing it against the bed above her head as he leaned over her, so close her breath ghosted against his lips.

“You do not touch yourself.” He lowered his voice, using the ‘commander’ tone he usually only reserved for very particular situations. Like his wife, trying to touch herself.

That little smile was still on her lips and she bucked her hips again, pressing them against his erection. He could tell she was holding onto her composure by a fraying thread, even as she continued stroking her own breast. “Says who?”

He lowered his mouth to hers, leaving barely a breath between them. “Says me.”

“Or what, commander?”

He grinned now too. “I’ll have to arrest you. And charge you for ignoring my orders.”

“I didn’t know that was a law.”

He pulled away, taking her other hand and pressing it into the bed above her head, holding both wrists in one hand as he pried the tattered remains of her dress out from under her. “It’s a very important law, and you’ve committed a very serious crime.”

She looked about ready to say something particularly petulant, but as he fixed his glare on her he watched as the words died on her lips, her mouth quickly snapping shut.

“The only one who gets to touch you is me,” he said, voice growing rough as he bound her wrists together with the fabric of her torn dress and secured them to the headboard.

He was the only one who could touch her, who could stroke her most sensitive places and coax whimpers from her lips. Only he could make her writhe and whine, could bring her to her release over and over. She was his wife, and he would be the only one who touched her.

“But I thought it would…” Her words died as he arched a brow, eyes narrowed as she tried and failed to finish her sentence.

“The only thing I want from you is to hear you moaning my name,” he said, keeping his tone as commanding as he could. But he would be lying if he didn’t admit that he was slipping. His cock seemed to be pulsing with how needy he was, how desperately he needed to be inside of her.

But she still had that damned smile on her face, and he figured he needed to do something about that. Something that would remind her that she was his, and that she had just agreed to let him do whatever he wanted.

“Now,” he said, shifting until he knelt between her legs, squeezing the soft flesh of her thighs before spreading them wide, every part of her on display for him. “Before we can continue, are you ready to receive your sentence?”

His cock twitched again, but it would have to wait. First there was something else he needed to do first. And once she was begging for his touch, he would fill her until her belly was swollen from his release.

She bit down on her lip, that satisfied little smile beginning to melt away. She wanted him to touch her, he could tell. But she wouldn’t get what she wanted.

Yet.

“And you should know,” he added, dropping his voice an octave. “The only response I’m accepting is ‘yes, sir.’”

She swallowed, nodding as best she could. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled, dragging his forefinger across her folds, brushing it against her clit. “Good girl.”

***

There might have been stars shining in the ceiling for all Rowan had any sense of the world around her anymore.

Part of her wondered whether it had been worth teasing Gavin. She’d known it was a risk, but she’d thought it would turn him on at the time. Make him do all those things he’d promised he would. Filling her with his cock again and again, folding her legs over her as he pushed into her, spilling inside of her over and over.

She really should have remembered how much Gavin liked being the one in control. How much he liked being her own private commander.

It was not something she would be forgetting anytime soon.

Gavin had started so gently she’d wanted to cry from how painful her need had already become. All she’d been able to imagine as he’d carried her up the stairs was the face he made when he pushed inside her, was his hands grasping at hers, was the sounds he made whenever he reached his release.

And yet he’d barely touched her, his fingers like phantoms stroking her. And all the while he’d murmured about how she had to be good, how he would do everything he’d promised as long as she listened and served out her ‘punishment.’

She’d tried asking him to forgive her, but he’d only shushed her, telling her the only thing she was allowed to say anymore was his name.

Which was going to be the only thing she ever remembered again, with his current ministrations making her brain leak from her ears.

He’d been edging her for what felt like hours now, bringing her so close to the brink only to pull away, stroking her body gently until she began to relax, until her breath grew even once more. And then he did it all over again.

He used his hands, his tongue, his teeth, teasing her as he stroked her most sensitive places, as he squeezed her breasts and rolled her nipples with his tongue. As he pressed bruising kisses to her throat and sides, as he left bite-marks everywhere his lips touched.

It would have felt like heaven if he hadn’t been teasing her, if he hadn’t been using his touch as a punishment. She wanted him to do more, she wanted his tongue and his fingers and his cock inside of her. She wanted his body pressed against hers, the frantic beat of his heart pulsing against her breast in time with her own.

But when she tried to ask him to do more, to nearly beg him to do more, he only reminded her that she’d said he could do whatever he wanted, and this was what he wanted to do. And then he gave her one long, desperate kiss that made her utterly breathless before returning to his torture.

She writhed, tugged against her bindings, although it felt like it was all in vain. Gavin was far too good, and she was well and truly stuck right where she was. She couldn’t move her hands from where he’d bound them, and he was able to hold her in place with just one hand on her hips while the other stroked and teased her mercilessly.

She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as her core tightened. She felt her body clenching over nothing, aching for something, anything. Even just one finger inside of her.

And just like clockwork the hand between her thighs vanished, her eyes opening at the wet pop of his fingers in his mouth as he sucked them clean.

She tugged uselessly against her bindings. “Gavin, please…”

She closed her eyes again as he grazed his palms along her sides, whimpering as he soothed her, the ache between her legs growing dull. It never fully disappeared though, hadn’t fully gone away for ages now.

Gavin hummed, and it sounded like he was grinning. “That sounds so pretty.”

She scrunched her nose up, rolling her hips, wishing she could have just a little more of his touch.

“You’re so pretty, my princess.” His tone sounded almost reverent, and it would have made her melt had he not been torturing her with his beautiful, cursed, skilled fingers.

He dragged his hands up, slid a featherlight touch over the swell of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

Although he was barely ghosting the pads of his fingers over her skin, her legs still trembled. She clenched at the sound of his voice, at the little sigh at the end, like he couldn’t stop staring, like she was something utterly beautiful and extraordinary.

Her bones were kindling for the flames unfurling from her bloodstream. She felt as it licked at her skin, as it singed the ends of her nerves. She feared that if she opened her eyes she would see fire rising around them, smoke choking out the last of the light in the hazy lighting of their room.

Her core grew tighter as he murmured sweet praises, telling her how pretty she sounded, how sweet she tasted on his tongue, how soft and perfect her thighs were when he sucked at her clit. It felt like threads of heat coiling tighter and tighter, pulsing a desperate beat that no symphony could ever keep time with.

Gavin’s teeth were suddenly on her throat, and her eyes were flying open, a gasp slipping from her lips from the shock. Heat quickly bloomed where he bit her, his teeth sinking into her flesh just enough to summon pain, but not enough to draw blood. He chuckled, his tongue swiping over the spot, the sound reverberating through her, reaching into the hollows of her bones.

He repeated this torture, again and again, sinking his teeth into her throat over and over. She whimpered, the sound twining with his muffled laughter, turning into a hedonistic melody that only they could create.

She closed her eyes again, straining her hands, wishing she could bury them in his hair, dig her nails into his shoulders and rake them down his back.

Oh how she wanted to touch him, how she wanted to be touched so much more than this. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and hold him against her while he came. She wanted to cradle his head against the crook of her neck as he shuddered in the throes of his passion.

She was drawn from such desires as she felt one of his hands slide down, dragging one finger through her oversensitive folds. She writhed, utterly helplessly as he began his ministrations once more, the attentions of his lips and teeth and tongue on her neck while his hand toyed with the more delicate parts of her.

It didn’t take very long at all until she was panting, moaning his name helplessly, wishing he would just have his way already. She wanted him so terribly, couldn’t he see that?

Gavin leaned back as he drew his hand away, holding her gaze as he licked his fingers clean. It sent desire arcing through her, like a lightning strike. She felt something inside of her splintering, the tension in her core starting to fray.

He hummed, his eyes a deep gold as he took in the mess she had become. A smile flitted across his lips, dangerous and sensual. It reminded her of a predator, his teeth glinting as they caught the wan light.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmured, stroking her cheek. “I think you’ve served out your sentence.”

Hope flared, bright and sweet and beautiful, rays of light seeping out from the spaces between her ribs.

He trailed his hands down, that devilish smile growing wider. “Do you promise to be a good girl?”

She struggled to draw breath, her lungs spasming as she gasped. “I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I promise. I-” 

He arched a brow, his eyes alight with mischief. Oh she wanted to kiss him so badly. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and lose sight of the boundaries of her body against him.

“Gavin please. Please.” She was sure it sounded a little pathetic, but she was well past caring by now.

He chuckled as he ran his thumb over the curve of her hip, his touch languid. “Please, what?”

She ground her teeth, fighting against the urge to whimper and whine. He was still teasing her. Still edging her into eternity, making her desperate for even the slightest touch.

Although, whether it was unfortunate or not, she had abandoned her pride over an hour ago, when she’d realized he was going to drag this out for as long as he pleased. “Please touch me, sir. Please p-put your…”

Maybe she hadn’t entirely done away with her pride. Her stomach twisted, the pulse of desire in her core so overwhelming she could barely think. If only she could say the words.

His smile grew wider, teeth catching the light. His incisors looked sharper than they had before, something predatory in his eyes. He traced his hands down the outside of her thighs, as if contemplating her words. “Touch you where, my princess?”

She bit her bottom lip, although it did little to help as she tried and failed to focus her mind enough to give form to her words.

Gavin tipped his head to the side, clearly enjoying himself far too much. She could see it in the gold of his eyes, in how dilated his pupils were. The dusting of pink on his ears had spread, deepening to a fiery crimson that streaked down his throat and under the collar of his shirt.

She lifted her hips, and his breath caught as he looked down. His gaze was hot, and she could have sworn she felt a cool caress against the delicate skin at the apex of her thighs.

Wind tangled in her messy hair, and distantly she realized that it was his evol; his control slipping on his power as he stared down at her with something like hunger.

“Here,” she managed, wiggling her hips as best she could. “I want you to touch me here.”

Again she felt that touch of a breeze, like phantom hands stroking her.

He hummed, sketching his index finger over her belly. “I can do that.”

“With your hands.”

He arched a brow, leaning over her until their noses touched, until his breath tangled with hers. “Awfully demanding, aren’t you?”

“Well…” She trailed off, her tongue heavy in her mouth. He made it so hard to speak when he was looking at her this way. The way his gaze was so steady, his eyes partially closed, his lips curled up in a smirk. She could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed, could feel the softness of his lips as his grin grew wide once more.

“Well?”

She pressed her lips into a line, clearing her throat, although the act did little to dispel the tightness in her throat.

“Well you have said I’m a princess,” she said, her voice only crackling a little like the kindling fed to a growing flame. “And aren’t princesses demanding?”

A whoosh of breath from his lips that she was certain was meant to be a laugh, or perhaps a sigh. Or perhaps both. Her mind was so muddled now all she could focus on was his breath, his lips, the heat of his skin washing over her like ocean waves against the shore.

“That’s true,” he said, a true laugh chasing after his words. “And who am I to deny a princess her wants?”

“Exactly.” Her response was breathless, and her stomach twisted, her core clenching as he fixed his eyes on hers, his expression unreadable.

She held her breath, waiting for his reply. And when it came, her heart fluttered like it was made of gossamer and sunlight and butterfly wings.

“Any more requests?” His eyes were alight with mischief, so bright they were like twin stars.

“Only all the things you promised earlier,” she said, tilting her chin back as if she really were a princess. As if he hadn’t tied her to the bed with scraps of her torn shirt.

Something seemed to soften in his expression, although she couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was. Perhaps it was the light of his eyes, or the sharpness of his smile. Perhaps it was the way he held himself, the way each move seemed powerful and commanding.

“As you wish,” he murmured, his voice a warm rumble that reached into her core, so tight now it hurt with every needy pulse that rocked through her. “It’s my duty to make my princess happy.”

He brushed his lips to hers, painful in its restraint. She lifted her head, chasing after him, but he pressed on her shoulders until she lay back, promising he would do everything she wished so long as she was patient.

His hands stroked her sides, traced the curves of her breasts. He trailed his lips in their wake, his kisses softer, reverent. It was like he had become a supplicant, and she a divine goddess he gave his entire being to in worship.

It would have given her whiplash from his earlier behaviour, but even when he’d been torturing her he’d breathed his words with such gentle softness, had told her how pretty she was, how beautiful she sounded, how he adored her so. 

And this gentler touch slowed the desperate beat of her heart, eased the ache that had reached into her bones. She felt her own body softening, relaxing beneath him as he continued to trail tender, adoring kisses over her body.

She sighed as he reached the apex of her thighs, his breath ghosting over her the delicate bundle of nerves. She still felt far too sensitive there, and even just the feel of his breath sent a shudder through her body.

“Here?” He murmured, catching her gaze as he looked back at her.

She nodded, swallowing as she watched his smile grow wide once more. “There.”

“As you wish.”

His words reverberated through her as he lowered his mouth, his tongue swirling around her clit before he drew it between his lips. She gasped, tensing against her bindings, legs already shaking as he began his gentle ministrations.

Wet sounds filled the air, twining with his quiet groans as though she were a full course meal and he was a man starved. Rowan moaned, so overstimulated even the smallest of touches sent lightning arcing through her body. She was made of fire and air, and the thin threads that had been holding her together were rapidly fraying beneath the force of the heat conjured by each swipe of his tongue.

It didn’t take long to bring her to the edge, for her body to grow so taut she could hardly breathe, hardly move. Her hips rolled, grinding against him as he drew her folds between his teeth, his hands squeezing her ass.

She whimpered, forcing her eyes open to find him staring at her, his eyes shining stars in the darkness.

She tried to say his name, although nothing but a moan fell from her lips. She couldn’t see his mouth, but she could feel his smile against her, caught the satisfied delight in his eyes.

“Cum for me, my love.”

Her mind had crumpled beneath the magic of his touch, and she was so utterly enthralled by him now that she would have needed more than a moment to register his quiet words. But she didn’t have even a moment before he resumed his work, tongue and lips and teeth pushing her from the edge.

It was like freefall, the way her stomach somersaulted, the way the air rushed from her lungs. Her body trembled, its movements uncontrollable. All she could do was cry out, Gavin’s name on her lips over and over as he sucked and licked and bit as she rode through the waves of her orgasm.

Her body arched up, her toes curling as she squeezed her eyes closed, utterly breathless. Shudders wracked her body, the heat in her core raging through her, decimating every bone and nerve and cell until there was nothing left but flame and the feel of Gavin still between her legs.

He didn’t stop until she finally came down from her high, her body beginning to still, her senses beginning to return.

She didn’t have the strength to open her eyes, to do anything but whimper helplessly as he murmured sweet nothings, pressing kisses to the insides of her thighs.

“You were perfect,” he breathed. She felt the bed shift as he moved, the sound of his feet hitting the floor muffled from the rush of blood in her ears. “So, completely perfect.”

She tried to crack a smile, tried to tell him that he was pretty perfect himself, but all she managed was a mumbled “mmmm.”

He snorted, followed by the rustle of fabric. “Don’t fall asleep yet, love. We’re not done yet.”

“Can I have just… Five more minutes…” She trailed off, heaving a deep sigh. She really did feel tired, all her energy spent from his torture.

He tsked. “Don’t you remember what you said?”

“Hm?”

“That I could do anything I wanted.”

She cracked her eyes open at that, a new rush of heat overflowing from her chest. He’d finally removed his shirt, his torso bared for her. She traced the curves of his body with her eyes, the swell of his biceps as he unbuckled his belt, the planes of the defined muscles of his abdomen, the softness of his chest.

She licked her lips, imagining how it would feel when he finally pressed his body against hers, when she would finally be tangled in his embrace. “And what are you wanting to do?”

He snorted, tugging off his pants. “Have you forgotten?”

She hadn’t, but after all his teasing she figured she was allowed to tease him right back. And she wanted to hear him say it again, wanted to hear the words from his lips that would make her breathless with excitement and make his face burn like a sunset sky.

His smile was devilish as he took a step towards her, cupping her cheek with one hand. “I’m going to make love to you until my cum is dripping out of you.”

Her toes curled as he leaned down, his voice lowering as he murmured his next words against her lips. “I’m going to fill you again and again until my baby is inside of you.”

She bit back a giggle, even as her body clenched at his words. His tone was warm and sensual, but it was belied by the colour in his cheeks, by the fiery colour staining his ears. He meant every word he said, but just the thought of it was slowly turning him into a mess, too. Was perhaps making him feel a bit shy, too.

Gavin was brave and strong and confident, but he was shy too. Shy when it came to some of his deepest desires, to giving them form.

It made her want to gather him up in her arms, to press kisses to his cheeks until he laughed, until he turned breathless. And then she wanted to make love to him until he was a mess in her arms, until he was satisfied and she was so full of him she wouldn’t be able to stand.

She smiled, butterfly wings taking flight in the cage of her ribs. “Then you’d better get started, officer.”

He arched a brow, looking amused. “Oh?”

“Yes, sir,” she recovered quickly. “There’s nothing I want more, sir.”

He snorted, eyes flicking to her lips. “That’s good to hear. Then I hope you’re prepared for a long night.”

She lifted her chin up further, space for little more than a breath between their lips. “It’s all I want.”

She could practically feel his smile against her lips, but he did not close the distance, and she couldn’t reach any further with her hands still bound to the headboard.

“Really?” There was a note of incredulity in his voice, as if he was amazed that she really would want him.

But Rowan couldn’t think of anything she could possibly want more. She wanted him, she wanted him close, she wanted to hold him tight and listen to his voice as it ricocheted through the room before being drowned out by his winds as his control ebbed away with every thrust of his hips. She wanted to hear him tell her how good she was, how pretty she was, how much he loved her, how much he needed her. She wanted to hear him tell her how good she felt, wanted to hear his contented sounds as he came down from his release before he started all over again.

And then of course there was something else that she wanted. As terribly as she wanted him in this moment, as terribly as she always wanted him.

She really did want him to try. She really wanted both of them to try. For a baby that was a little bit of her, and a little bit of him. A baby with golden eyes and round, red cheeks, and squealing laughter like the ring of silver bells in the wind.

Her voice was even this time, no cracks like there usually were while she was still reeling from her release. “Really.”

He closed that final distance then, his lips brushing against hers. He was soft at first, the kiss chaste and gentle as a morning breeze. And then his lips were parting, and he was dragging her bottom lip between his teeth, and he was slipping his tongue between her lips, groaning as the kiss deepened.

And suddenly it was not gentle and chaste any longer, the kiss all passion and hunger and need. Gavin had been standing next to the bed only a moment ago, but the bed shifted and Rowan felt as his body covered hers. She felt the hard planes of his stomach as he slid against her, the softness of his chest pressing against her breasts.

She hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes, but his touch had stolen all her senses, had wiped her mind of everything but the feel of his body against hers, of her need for him closer.

She was overwhelmed, the rough touch of his calloused palms stroking her sides, gentle as they caressed the swell of her breasts, as they traced the curve of her hips. The smell of pine and cool air and the sandalwood scent in his soap filled her nose, washed over her like she was little more than a flower lost beneath the heavy clouds of a storm. Her skin was burning, and yet the air itself was cool, winds tangling in her hair, churning through the room and making the sheets beneath them flutter.

She gasped as he broke the kiss, lips moving to the curve of her jaw, trailing down her neck. She still felt the bite of his teeth, but it was less punishing this time. Still possessive, but reverent too. Like he was claiming she was his, like he was marking her throat with proof that she was his and only his.

It wasn’t enough, though. She wanted him closer, wanted to touch him more.

Rowan lifted her hips, grinding them against Gavin’s until he gasped. She could feel his bulge through his boxers, her mouth salivating at the thought of it pushing inside of her, stretching her wide just for him.

“Be patient.” He groaned against her skin, his breath hitching as she rolled her hips up again, spreading her legs a little wider.

“But I…” She trailed off, her thoughts melting away as he took her breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her nipple. A shiver ran down her spine, heat spreading from her core like an expanding star in the darkness of the universe. Rays of heat reaching out, enveloping her nerves until her skin warmed and tingled, heating her blood until it began to boil.

He came away with a wet pop of his mouth, a satisfied grin dancing on his lips before turning his attentions to her other breast.

Her back arched, and for a moment she forgot what she had been saying. She just wanted to be touched, wanted to touch him, wanted-

Gavin began working his way lower, hands on either side of her hips, his mouth tracing kisses around her navel. Cool wind still rushed around her, brushing against her burning skin, caressing the delicate flesh between her legs.

Slowly her thoughts returned to her; she didn’t want just the wind touching her. She wanted Gavin, she wanted his heated hands on her, she wanted his skin against hers, she wanted him inside of her. She wanted him deep inside of her, filling her until he was content.

“I want to touch you,” she managed, her words little more than a whimper as he fixed his gaze back on her. The gold of his eyes had deepened, no longer the bright colour of stars, but something darker, headier.

She was melting beneath that gaze, melting beneath that heat and intensity as he drew himself up, peering down at her like a predator in the dark. The winds grew more forceful, seeming to churn around them like the beginnings of a hurricane.

It was like she was caught in a trance, her thoughts grinding to a halt as she stared up at him. She wasn’t even sure if she was breathing anymore. But it was impossible to look away. It was impossible to tear her eyes from his. 

There was something about the almost-dark that blanketed the room, only the light of the hallway spilling in from the half-shut door and the tiny cactus shaped night-light in the corner offering any illumination. Something about the weak light that managed to shine through, limning him in a soft glow. Like he was something inhuman, something made of magic.

He lifted his brows, the corners up his lips tugging up in a half-smile. She could make out the flush on his skin, how it had stained every part of bare skin that she could lay her eyes on. She could make out the way his chest rose and fell, how his muscles tensed and flexed as he shifted.

And then the tension in her arms disappeared, and the knotted fabric around her wrists was being tugged away.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” His voice was low and heady, intoxicating as too much wine, but there was a note of teasing in his voice, a flare of mischief.

Rowan was breathing harder now, the taste of freedom on her tongue.

She wasn’t about to lie and say there wasn’t something very arousing about him holding her down and tying her up so he could have his way with her. But she wanted to touch him now too, wanted to wrap herself around him.

She just wanted him, so desperately it hurt. She could feel the ache deep in her bones, like it was scraping away the marrow and leaving only an empty agony remaining.

Rowan drew her hands to her chest, gently rotated her wrists and listened to the quiet crack and pop of the joints, slowly flexed her fingers and squeezed them into fists once more.

“May I?” Gavin laid a hand over hers, fingers tangling together. He drew their twined hands up, brushing his lips against her wrist.

“Did I hurt you?” He murmured his words against her skin, peeling away only to check the marks on her wrists before pressing kisses to the tips of her fingers and the back of her hands again.

“Not at all.”

He huffed a small laugh, his breath tickling her palm. “You’re very brave, my princess.”

“Well you were awfully brave to untie me.”

His eyes squeezed shut as he laughed, the sound reverberating through her where his mouth pressed against her palm.

“And why is that?”

Rowan smiled, gently prying her hand free from him. She hesitated, Gavin’s eyes going wide and sad, his lips pulling into a pout as she drew away from him.

But she cupped his face with both hands anyways, the soft edges of his hair tickling her fingertips. She lifted her head, holding his gaze as she closed the distance between them. “Because now I get to touch you, too.”

He laughed against her lips as she kissed him, one hand pressed against her back, holding her up as she nipped at his bottom lip, as she began scattering kisses over his cheeks like rainfall.

She slid her hands into his hair, eyes closing as he caught her lips again before she could trace kisses along the line of his jaw. Gavin groaned into the kiss, his other hand sliding over her thigh, fingers digging into her skin.

Rowan tugged at his hair as she felt his teeth, and Gavin sighed her name, breaking their embrace to drag his lips and teeth and tongue down the column of her throat. Her head fell back, baring her neck for him, giving him better access as he marked her with proof of his love.

She rolled her hips, grinding them against his bulge, murmuring his name like a prayer. Breathing “Gavin. Gavin. Gavin.”

And when he asked her “what do you want, princess? Tell me what you want.” She whimpered his name again, said that she wanted him. She wanted him, just him.

There was laughter in the room, although Rowan was beginning to lose sight of herself, of where her body was ending and Gavin was beginning. Their heartbeats pulsed in tandem, and her senses were overwhelmed with his smell and his breaths and his burning hands.

The laughter might have been his, although she felt it deep in her bones. And then his hands were drawing away and she was whining, agony flooding her veins at the loss of his touch, his warmth.

“Just give me a minute, princess,” he said, even as he let her wrap her arms around his neck and draw him closer once more. “I just need a minute, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

She pouted, wiggling her hips. “I don’t want to wait.”

He clicked his tongue, and she felt as he shifted, arms and legs moving as he removed his boxers, the final barrier keeping them apart.

“Not even for a minute?”

She shook her head, tension coiling in her core as she felt him settle between her legs. “Not for one minute.”

Gavin snorted, his brows arching high. “You want me that badly?”

She nodded her head furiously, chest rising and falling as she fought to keep her breathing even. But she could feel him against her now, felt his cock sliding through her folds, shocks of electricity arcing through her core.

“Then be a good girl for me and spread your legs a little wider, pumpkin.”

She did. Immediately. Spreading her legs as wide as she could, lifting her hips again to give him better access.

He squeezed her thigh again, and he sounded pleased when he spoke once more. “That’s my good girl.”

She could feel him at her entrance, her body clenching in anticipation.

“Can’t you be closer?” She didn’t much care that she was whining. Gavin liked when she whined for him, when she was needy and desperate for his touch.

“This isn’t close enough for you, princess?” There was a note of teasing in his voice as he slid one hand down the underside of her thigh, hiking it up against his waist.

She tried drawing him closer, fingers sinking into his hair. “Not even a little bit.”

More of his laughter was caught in the winds as he shifted again, his other hand sketching circles against her waist, her skin tingling from the touch. “Well I know how to fix that.”

And then Rowan was gasping, her breath caught in her throat as Gavin pushed inside of her, as her walls stretched to accommodate every inch of him. She clenched, so sensitive from his torturous touch earlier that she was nearly pushed over the edge again. Her back arched, legs shaking. She might have been moaning, but she wasn’t really sure. All she felt was heat, her body drawn so taut she was sure it would snap at any moment.

Gavin groaned, the stars of his eyes eclipsed for the barest of moments as they fell closed. The hand holding her thigh dug painfully against her skin, no doubt leaving an impression of his hand that would stay for days. And the hand at her waist gripped her tight, pushing her back against the bed even as her hips bucked.

Rowan could hardly breathe, the world spinning around her as she dug her hands into Gavin’s hair, as she scraped them down his back from the shocks of electricity that raced across what remained of her nerves. Her chest heaved, her legs trembled. Even once Gavin’s hips met hers, she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Already she was on the brink of another orgasm, and he had hardly done anything at all.

“How’s that?” He asked, and although his voice was gravelly and low, she could hear the mischief in it. “Is this close enough?”

She nodded, a frantic shake of her head as she tried to gasp out a ‘yes.’

Although it didn’t exactly work. It came out a garbled mess, barely intelligible as a response at all.

But Gavin seemed to understand just fine, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips.

“Good. Now, are you ready?”

She was ready, she was so ready. She tried to wiggle her hips in answer, Gavin choking on a gasp from the sudden movement.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She felt his smile against her lips as his hands roamed over her body, squeezing her breasts, stroking her sides until her breathing calmed. Like he was soothing her. Like he didn’t want her to find her release just yet.

He moved then, once her breathing had slowed and the rise and fall of her chest had evened out. He moved slowly at first, pulling away and sinking back in until their hips met at a languorous pace. He even sighed, as though he were enjoying a lazy afternoon.

She tried to stammer out his name, her hips moving of their own accord, but Gavin only shushed her.

“You said I could do whatever I wanted,” he reminded her, pressing her hips back against the bed. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“But you’re going too slow.” Her leg slipped from his waist, her bones near nonexistent. She was being held together by fraying thread, her body supported by unset jelly; it would take almost nothing for her to fall apart.

“Maybe I just like your pout,” he murmured, one calloused hand cupping her cheek, his thumb running over her bottom lip.

“But Gavin.”

“I like that too.” His hand tangled in her hair, tugging as he groaned, thrusting with more force than before.

She tried to ask what he meant, but he was moving again, and when he pushed back inside of her all she could do was whine, squirming helplessly in his grip.

He clicked his tongue, continuing his languid pace. He pulled back, not enough to be out of reach of Rowan’s embrace, but just enough that he could take her in, eyes roving over her body.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, right before his hips slammed against hers. She writhed, nails digging into his shoulders. Gavin’s breathing shuddered, but his pace remained steady, his eyes focusing on her lips, over her breasts, tracing down her torso.

His cock twitched, and Rowan shuddered around him, clenching again as he murmured breathy praises. That she was beautiful, that she felt so good, that she was his good girl.

Despite his painstakingly slow pace, it still did not take long for Rowan to feel her release creeping up on her. She felt it with every rock of his hips, with every ‘good girl’ and ‘I love you’ he groaned, with every twitch inside of her that sent electricity coursing through her.

Gavin held her hips against the bed, controlling the pace entirely, but her body still began to tremble beneath his grip. Her toes curled, her lungs spasming as she struggled to draw breath. She couldn’t seem to stop whimpering, arms quivering as she tried to keep them wrapped around him.

There was fire in her belly, coiling in her core, overtaking the tension that had been keeping her together.

“Gavin,” she moaned, wishing she could bury her face against his neck. “Gavin, I-”

“I know,” he said, his tone soft as a lullaby. It was only slightly undermined by a grunt as she clenched around him. “I know, princess.”

“Please come closer,” she gasped, squeezing his shoulders. “I need you.”

He groaned, closing the distance between them, every wonderful inch of him pressing against her now. “I need you, too.”

She circled her arms around his neck, holding him as tight as she could with her strength rapidly melting away. His pace didn’t quicken, as though he were slowly bringing her towards her orgasm, drawing it out slowly, making it last as long as he could.

“I love you,” he breathed. “I love you, Rowan.”

Laughter bubbled in her throat, although it came out as a garbled sound alongside another moan. “Sounds-sounds like you-you’re about to…” Her back arched, spasming as their hips connected.

The hands holding her down slid beneath her, squeezing her ass and lifting her hips, grinding them against his.

It was the last straw, her body unravelling in his hands. Her release was slower this time, the tension coiled in her core snapping, heat flooding her veins. She couldn’t control her body as it twitched, back arching from the mattress. Her mind was a cloud of smoke and liquid heat, she was unable to form even a single thought. There was only this unending freefall, the heat in her body, the rush of warmth between her legs.

And Gavin. Her desperate need for Gavin.

She gasped as he kept moving, eyes closed as she clung to him, her head falling back against the pillows, neck bared for him as he sank his teeth into her skin. Pain lanced through her, and she lost the grip she’d had on the final thread holding her together. The strength in her arms gave out, and she slumped against the messy sheets, still quivering beneath him.

He groaned, murmuring something against her skin she couldn’t quite make out. She could feel the heat between her legs growing, and lewd, wet sounds filled the room alongside Gavin’s pants.

Gavin came soon after her, his thrusts growing erratic, the hands still squeezing her rear and grinding her hips against his gripping her so tightly she would surely have the shape of his hands imprinted against her for all eternity. He groaned her name, shoulders shaking as he pressed his face against the crook of her neck.

He didn’t stop moving, his pace faster, an uneven tempo she could not keep up with as he spilled inside of her. She could feel his hot, sticky cum as it leaked onto the inside of her thighs, felt as it filled her entirely.

She buried her hands in his hair as he rode out his release, stammering out praises, heat blooming deep in her belly once more as he moaned helplessly. That he felt so good, that he had to keep going, that he could fill her as much as he wanted.

Gavin let out a shaky breath as his body finally stilled, pressing his lips to hers and stealing her air. His hands moved to her face, stroking her cheeks, running his fingers through her hair.

“What do you think?” Her voice wobbled as she spoke, her tongue heavy as she tried to remember words that weren’t just ‘Gavin’ and ‘please.’ “Do you think we made a baby?”

He huffed, kissing her again, tongue swiping between her lips.

She smiled, laughter bubbling in her chest. It made her shoulders shake, and Gavin broke the kiss just so he could stare at her in amusement as she laughed.

“What’s so funny?” He brushed her bangs back from her sweaty forehead, lips quirked up in a smile.

She shrugged, still giggling. “I’m not sure.”

He chuckled, leaning down to brush a kiss to the corner of her lips. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Well what are you going to do with me?” She reached up, tracing the line of his collarbone.

Gavin took hold of her hand, lifting it to press a kiss to the heel of her hand. “Whatever I wanted, remember?”

“I remember.” She wiggled her hips, biting her bottom lip as he drew in a sharp breath. “But what do you want to do next?”

“What I want is to make you pregnant.” Now he was the one moving, jerking his hips forward, a wet slap sounding in the room as their bodies connected. “And I think we have a very long night ahead of us.”

Rowan bit down on her lip harder to stifle her moans. He’d hardly moved, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was that sensitive. And yet she was sure he knew, her walls tightening around his cock as he rolled his hips again. And again. And again.

“Don’t hide it from me, princess,” he teased, pressing the hand he’d been holding against the bed, their fingers intertwining. “I want to hear every pretty sound you make.”

“How do you know I-” She grit her teeth, but it did little to stop the cry that still spilled from her lips as his pace increased, turned near-punishing.

Her body moved of its own accord, hips rocking up, trying to keep pace with him.

“Because I’m making you feel good, princess.” His words were low and heady, intoxicating her mind. It was getting so hard to think, to remember to even hold onto him with her free hand. “And you sound so pretty when you feel good.”

She was losing herself in the movement of their bodies, losing herself in the enchantment Gavin was casting over her. Her head fell back, her lips parting as she sighed and moaned. Somehow her other hand found itself in his grip, both her hands trapped beneath one of his while his free hand reached for her thigh.

“Closer,” he ground out. “I need you closer.”

He grabbed her thigh roughly, lifting it over his hip, pushing it further forward as he bent over her.

There was some irony in that, in Gavin demanding that she be closer when she had begged him to be close earlier. And now they both got their wish, so close now that their boundaries blurred.

Rowan was so oversensitive she didn’t last long beneath his furious pace. She was little more than a newly bloomed flower beneath the force of a tempest. She was uprooted easily, tossed into the air, entirely at the whims of the storm that had stolen her away.

She was in freefall, stomach lurching, heart replaced by gossamer wings flitting against the force of the gale she was being swept up in. Gavin brought her to her release swiftly, twice, before he found his again.

He only paused for a moment, gasping for breath between words as he checked to make sure she felt alright, to make sure he hadn’t hurt her, that she really could keep going.

And then he began anew, their bodies tangling together, Rowan melting beneath him. She surrendered herself fully to his storm, letting him take her wherever he wished. Filling her again and again until she lost her mind entirely, until there was no thought in her mind but Gavin, Gavin’s touch, and the hope that this would truly work and they would have their first baby.

***

The evening melted away beneath Gavin’s fingertips, darkening to the silver-stained night. With the bedroom door half-closed and the curtains drawn, it was hard to tell any time had passed at all.

But the stars knew, as did the moon, as their light slowly bloomed in the night sky.

For his part, Gavin was too focused on his wife, on the glossiness of her eyes, of the way her pupils dilated until they seemed to swallow the night.

She’d been able to speak earlier. Even when he’d been doling out her punishment she’d still found her words when she needed them, making petulant little comments that made him want to bite down on that adorable pout she had, to hold her hands above her head while he made her climax again and again and again.

But now all she could do was mewl as their bodies writhed. Her eyes were closed, her hands caught beneath his, her mouth fallen open as feeble cries and whimpers poured from her lips. A trickle of drool tracked down her cheek from the corner of her lips, shining silver in the light that managed to creep into the room.

He had her legs thrown over his shoulders, her knees nearly brushing the sides of her head. From this angle he could see everything as he drew back and plunged inside of her, so deep she squirmed helplessly, crying out as she came again.

He could even see his release trickling out of her, stark against the inside of her thighs. They had long since stained the sheets, and it was smeared all over her. Gavin had tried to mitigate it as best he could, gathering it with his fingers and pushing it back inside of her, as though every drop of it counted.

By now he had certainly fulfilled his promise, that he would stuff her body until she was leaking, until her belly was already swollen.

He couldn’t actually tell if her belly had swollen, and behind the haze of his desire he knew that probably wasn’t actually possible. But it was easy to imagine. Her belly rounded, their child already taken root.

Gavin knew he could have stopped by now, but each time he told himself that this was the last time, Rowan would whimper his name, or he would catch sight of his cum leaking onto the sheets, or she would roll her hips in the throes of her release. He would feel heat burning through him all over again, feel tension coiling deep in his belly, feel the overwhelming need to sink back inside of her and feel as she tightened so wonderfully around him once more.

And Rowan never asked him to stop, never gave any of the signals they had already agreed upon. And he always paused, always checked in to make sure she was alright, his desires be damned.

Yet every time she managed to mumble that she was okay, to nod that she wanted him to continue, to please continue. And he didn’t need to be asked twice.

He listened as her breath caught as their hips slammed together, as she groaned. It was so sweet, like music, like the most beautiful of songs.

She was so precious, his beautiful, delicate flower. She had given herself to him entirely, had trusted him entirely.

She was his, she was entirely his. Every mark on her neck, every time he climaxed inside of her was proof of that. She was his Rowan, his wife. 

And oh was she so perfect, so utterly beautiful. Every moment of their lives she was beautiful, but the way she looked now was beyond his comprehension. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes still closed, her hands caught above her head. If he kissed her she would tilt her head back for him so he could deepen it as he liked, could bite her lip or swipe his tongue into her mouth. If he played with her breasts, whether which his hands or his lips, she would make the prettiest sounds he had ever heard, spurring him on even more.

And when he brought her to her release she would try her best to gasp out his name, would reach for him even when there was no strength left in her arms. And as she came she was always so good, taking him along with her, clenching so hard around him that he almost always climaxed right after her.

He always did his best to put her needs and her wants first, always did his best to take care of her. But she always let him be as greedy as he wanted when they were like this. She was always letting him have his way, letting him take control and doing whatever he wanted until they were both satisfied.

And Gavin was greedy. Terribly, desperately greedy. And she was his beautiful flower, his sweet princess, who so obediently lay there while he had his way. She moved when he told her to, never stifled the sounds she made just as he always asked, stayed still as best she could the way he asked. And she let him fill her until she was overflowing, even more proof that she was his.

He’d never thought he would get to experience love, real true love. That was for someone else, someone who was not covered in scars, who did not flinch at the slightest flicker of flames, whose hands were not calloused and stained from violence.

He’d been a ghost in the world, merely passing through, all his senses dulled, washing over him like winds ruffling his hair. He could sense them, faintly, just as he could feel the warmth of summer in a breeze, or the bite of winter in a gale. But it never overwhelmed him, never filled the hollows of his bones or wrapped around his heart like climbing ivy.

Then Rowan had stepped into his life, and colour and life exploding in her wake. Gales had turned to typhoons, the breeze into a hurricane. He hadn’t been a ghost any longer, had felt himself coming alive with every moment he spent beside her.

Part of him had feared that his growing love had been one-sided, but then Rowan had given herself to him entirely. Had pressed her heart into his hands and told him that she wanted him to keep it safe, that she was his.

Sunshine was brighter, colours more vibrant. When flowers bloomed he could smell their sweet perfume, when leaves rustled on branches they sounded like music. Blankets felt softer, food tasted better. His world had turned to technicolour, everything bright and loud and more beautiful than he had thought possible.

He looked down at her now, eyes slowly opening, eyes so dark they seemed nearly black as they met his gaze.

“Mmmm…” It sounded like she was trying to say something, but her words melted away each time she tried.

His wife, his beautiful, wonderful wife. She’d gilded the world in gold, had filled his heart with sunshine. And she had made him needy. Had made him incredibly, painfully greedy. For her, for every part of her.

“What is it?” He leaned close, tracing his lips down the line of her jaw. “What do you want to say, princess?”

She whimpered as their hips met, and he sucked in a sharp breath, her walls tightening around him so suddenly he nearly fell apart right then.

“Tell me,” he murmured against her throat, sighing as he rolled his hips against hers, as he sank deep inside of her.

He was teasing her, if only a little. He knew it was difficult now for her to find any words, and yet he wanted to hear what she had to say. Wanted to hear her shaky, needy voice as she managed to give form to whatever she was thinking.

Maybe she wanted him to touch her more, maybe she wanted him to go faster. He’d been alternating between slow, languid movements, and a much faster pace, and although they both climaxed much sooner the faster he moved, there was something he adored about watching her squirm and pant and whimper his name while vainly trying to get him to move faster. And her release was always much longer when he moved slowly, and it was so mesmerizing to watch when she did, her mouth falling open, her head tilting back, her legs tensing around him as her hands dug into the blankets or into his skin.

“I…” She managed all of one word before it turned breathy, choked off by a cry. 

She clenched around him and he groaned, struggling to draw in breath as heat raced across his skin, as the tension in his body reached a breaking point. Her walls trembled around him as he thrust forward, losing sight of his previous rhythm. Her legs were shaking, her body arching as much as it could in the position he was holding her in. Her hips ground against his, lightning flashing in the back of his mind.

Cold air bit at Gavin’s skin, ripples of air dragging through his hair, but he couldn’t seem to reel in his evol. Not yet, not right now. She was so close, he could feel it with every quiver of her body.

He pulled away from where he had been focusing his attentions, her neck and shoulders covered in crimson marks and impressions of his teeth. He needed to see her face, needed to watch as it scrunched up, as her breaths came out in short gasps, as she tossed her head from side-to-side and whined.

Gavin had to take hold of her legs as he repositioned himself. They were beginning to slip, and he suspected she did not have much strength left in them.

“You can do it,” he breathed, releasing his hold on her legs to find her hands. They were still lying on the bed above her head, palms up like she was waiting for his hands to find them. Like her hands had been made just for him, to be held by him.

Her mouth curled up in a smile as she swallowed, her hips struggling to find the unbalanced tempo he had set. He found her hands, felt as her fingers twined with his. Her nails dug into his skin as her smile slipped away, her mouth falling open as she started to gasp.

He stroked her hands, joy a soft, gentle light in the wildfire razing through him. He was so thankful she had chosen him, that she had let him be a part of her life. That she let him see this beautiful face she always made as she was about to climax.

“Cum for me, princess,” he cooed, quickening the thrust of his hips.

And she did, soundless cries falling from her lips as her body shook, as her legs tensed around his shoulders. Her back arched, her hands squeezing his so tightly he was sure she drew blood.

“Good girl.” He watched as she was caught in the throes of her release, as she squirmed and whimpered and clutched him with all her might.

His breath caught as she continued to tremble, as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. She clenched around him again and again, so tight it felt like he could hardly move, like she was trying to hold him inside of her.

Her walls continued to constrict, her body continued to writhe beneath him. Her hips connected with his, her pace uneven and ragged, yet drawing him further towards the edge nonetheless. She cried out again, his name sounding like a prayer on her lips.

It was all too much for Gavin, and he found his release soon after. He couldn’t help it, not when she was so beautiful, when she was whining his name. She was still moving beneath him, their bodies pressed so close he wasn’t sure where the boundaries of his body lay. But he did know that it was intoxicating, that he was drunk on the sound of her voice and the feel of her skin. That he could cum a million more times and still never be fully satisfied.

His grip on her hands loosened as his body trembled, the strength in his arms giving out. He pressed his face against her shoulder, groaning her name again and again as he moved his hips. He could feel as he came, as he filled her more, as his release spilled into her body.

The thought of it had his core tightening, heat slipping into his veins once more, banishing the ash from the previous fire before it had time to settle.

The winds around them churned faster as he continued to fill her body, as he stuffed her to the very brim.

Her hands slipped away from his, combing through his hair and running down his back. They were gentle, soft, like she were coaxing him onward, encouraging him to keep going.

But more than that it just felt nice. It felt comforting, being held in her arms, as precious to her as she was to him.

It was a long while before his body finally relaxed, before he slowed his movements, stopping them altogether.

“Gavin?” Her voice was small, her words caught in the wind and nearly stolen away. She was rubbing circles against his back, her movements gentle and slow.

He pried himself away just enough to find her face, to gaze down at her flushed cheeks and her dark eyes and her bruised lips.

“What is it, love?” He cupped her cheek, stroking the corner of her lip.

Her lips curled up in a soft smile. “I love you.”

Gavin drew in a sharp breath, those three simple words caught up in the wind, curling round and round and round, echoing through the room.

Rowan giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “I love you so much, babey.”

He could feel her breath ghosting against his thumb, warmth blooming wherever his skin touched hers. For a moment the wildfire was tempered, replaced by a gentle glow. It was the first rays of sunshine gilding the dawn, setting droplets of dew alight, turning the world to glitter.

Gavin wasn’t always sure if people were born with any purpose. People were born, and they would rise and fall by their own merits, their own strengths, their own choices. He knew that perhaps best of all.

But he knew with absolute certainty that he had been born to meet this woman. That he had been made just for her. To fit so perfectly in her arms. He had been born to listen to her laughter and see her smile.

There was a lump in his throat, and it caught his words as he tried to give them form.

So he kissed her instead.

He leaned down, brushing his lips to hers, revelling in her quiet sigh. He was gentle at first, cupping her face with both hands as he kissed her. He swiped his tongue along the seam of her lips, and as she parted them for him he couldn’t help groaning.

Her lips were plush, her body soft against his. He couldn’t just stop with a simple kiss, couldn’t end their embrace like this.

So he kissed her harder, tipping her head back, one hand still on her cheek while the other pressed into the sheets, supporting him as he leaned over her, as he kissed her deeper.

She whimpered, her hands sliding from his hair to his cheeks. She stroked the edge of his jaw as she parted her lips more, letting him have his way. She arched her back, the softness of her breasts rubbing against his chest.

Heat was coiling in his core, and his cock, still buried inside of her, hardened once again. He still needed more; he didn’t think he would be able to stop here, not as each little movement was an ember catching flame in the kindling of his bones.

He was already panting as he broke the kiss, a line of silvery saliva connecting their lips as he found her eyes in the darkness.

“I love you too.” His words were breathy, his voice gravelly and low.

He adored every part of her. He adored her heart, her soul, her mind. But right now he still needed her, needed her body.

He felt like he was under a spell; he was so utterly bewitched by her he could not stop, not yet. He still wanted her, still needed her.

“One more time,” he rasped, holding her gaze while he waited for her response.

And Rowan nodded, a content smile on her lips. “One more time.”

Gavin kissed her again, so deeply she gasped.

And then he moved again, thrusting his hips at a punishing pace. If this would be their last time tonight then he wanted to make sure he heard as many of those sweet, addicting noises that spilled from her lips as he could.

Already he could feel her body tightening around him. The hands she’d cupped his cheeks with had buried themselves in his hair once more, tugging helplessly as he sank into her. Each slap of their hips was punctuated by a sharp gasp, followed by Rowan moaning his name so beautifully he thought he would cum right then.

He murmured her name like he was a supplicant, like she was a goddess who he prayed to every night. He lowered his head, lips brushing against the swell of her breast. He traced it with his lips, moving inward slowly while she whined and writhed, her hips bucking as she tried to keep pace.

“Just stay still,” he breathed, taking her hips and holding her steady. “Don’t move, princess. Let me take care of you.”

It sounded like she was trying to argue, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a wordless cry as he slammed deep inside of her.

“Just keep making those pretty little sounds,” he teased. “They sound so good, princess. They make me so hard.”

He was rewarded with her body tightening around him, and more adorable whimpers from her lips. It sounded a little like his name, and it made him smile against her breast. “Good girl.”

She tugged at his hair again, dull pain pricking at the back of his head. He felt her nails dig into his scalp, and he chuckled even as a wave of heady desire overtook him. His cock twitched at the sharp feel of her nails dragging over his skin, of her breath tangling in his hair.

He didn’t know how long he could hang on, but he knew he needed to keep himself together for a while yet. He couldn’t unravel, not when he had his Rowan to take care of first.

He kept one hand at her hips, the other toying with her breast while he swirled his tongue around her hard nipple. He drew it into his mouth slowly, flicking his tongue over it until she moaned. Her hands were at the nape of his neck, but he could feel their strength slowly giving out, his sweet wife falling apart just for him.

He grazed his teeth over her breast, earning a gasp. Her arms were shaking, her legs twitching. She was quivering around him, already so close to the edge.

Gavin slowed his pace then, not wanting her to find her release just yet. He wanted to touch her more, just a little bit more.

He murmured praises as he moved slower, focusing on teasing her breasts. They were so soft, so perfect for laying his head. He could have kept himself buried in them for the rest of the night, her heartbeat thrumming against his cheek as he enjoyed them.

But there was more of her to touch, and he’d promised to take care of her; he couldn’t be selfish right now, not when he’d been selfish all night.

There was the gentle curve of her hips, the roll of her belly. There were her thighs, so soft, the skin perfect for sinking his teeth into. And of course there was her ass, round and perfect for squeezing in his hands.

He touched every part of her that he could, pressing his lips to her skin, swiping his tongue over her sensitive flesh. He grasped handfuls of her rear as he nipped at her skin, leaving love bites wherever he could. There was no part of her body that didn’t have any red marks, that wouldn’t carry proof of his love.

Her arms, too weak to continue holding him as she had, slumped to the bed, grasping weakly at the sheets. Her walls fluttered around him, one moment gentle as the beat of a butterfly, the next strong as iron, clenching forcefully around him. Her eyes were half-lidded, and he could barely make out the warm colour of her eyes as she watched him. She panted, her lips moving over soundless words between her breathy gasps.

“That’s it.” He encouraged her to keep going, focusing on the places she most liked to be touched. His hands shook with his desire to move quickly, to take hold of all his favourite parts of her. To savour the feel of her skin, the feel of her orgasm when it came.

But Rowan deserved to be touched gently, slowly, with love and care. He had already been rough and fast with her. He wanted her to feel loved, to feel protected and precious. He wanted to finish the night with all the love he had for her, and the hope that his love would turn into something more. Something small and round, with her smile and her laugh.

So Gavin touched her slowly, murmuring against her skin as he scattered kisses over every inch of skin that he could reach. That she was beautiful, that she was so good, that she felt so good around him. Promises that he would make her pregnant, that she’d been so good while he’d stuffed her with his cum, that he would take such good care of her when she was pregnant.

It took longer than he’d thought to take her to the edge, to coax her along until the twitching of her walls around him turned to spasms, until he felt her toes curling against his back. And she seemed to be enjoying herself plenty, her eyes opening wider, delight brightening their depths, a smile ghosting across her lips.

Although she couldn’t reach her arms up, she did wiggle her fingers, gesturing the way she always did when she wanted him to hold her hands. Gavin obliged, feeling that her release was swiftly arriving, her body arching from the bed, growing so tight around his cock he gasped as he plunged back inside of her.

He threaded his fingers with hers, lips hovering over where her pulse thrummed in her neck, quick as hummingbird wings.

“I love you,” he said, moaning as she did, her sounds of pleasure sending liquid heat racing through his body, pooling in his core. “I love you, princess.”

She whined again, her voice rising in pitch. Her head fell back against the pillows, throat bobbing as she swallowed. The heat in his body grew stronger, brighter, like a star was exploding to life. It was hard to feel anything but overwhelming desire, listening to the sounds she was making, hard to stop the heat coiling in his body.

“Rowan.” He breathed her name like a prayer. Her pulse seemed to stutter, stumbling the way he always did when they danced together.

“Mmm,” was her only reply, her hands squeezing his.

“Rowan, I can’t wait for you to be pregnant,” he continued. His words were small, breathy. He felt like a child kneeling at their window staring up at the stars as they made a wish. He felt like a supplicant at the altar of his most beloved goddess.

The sharp breath she took told him that she’d heard what he’d said. She tried turning her head to face him, but he still had his face pressed against her throat, still listening to the flutter of her pulse.

Gavin pulled back slowly, meeting her gaze. She clenched around him again, harder this time, the spasms in her body growing more and more frequent, like she was being shocked by lightning.

“Don’t look away,” he ordered. “Keep your eyes on me.”

They were at the end now, he could feel how close she was.

He smiled, stroking her wrist with his thumb, watching as she struggled to meet his eyes.

“You’re going to be so pretty,” he cooed, one hand moving to her hips, sliding over her belly. “You’re going to be so pretty with my baby inside of you.”

She tensed, fluttering helplessly around him. He watched as her eyes widened, her pupils dilating. Her lip was trembling, as though she were about to cry out.

“And everyone will know you’re mine.” He lowered his voice to a whisper that he hoped was even half as intoxicating as her cries were. “That my baby is inside of you.”

Rowan whimpered, her eyes starting to close.

He clicked his tongue, taking hold of her chin. Her eyes snapped back open, wide as saucers as he tipped her head back.

“I told you not to look away.” His voice wasn’t as soft anymore, the edges of his words biting like winter winds.

Her bottom lip trembled more, and she swallowed. Her hands shook, slowly rising from the bed to reach for him. “Yes, sir.”

He twitched, the heat in his body expanding. It wouldn’t be long before he was no longer able to contain it.

“You’re just so pretty.” At this point he couldn’t help himself. He could try to hold onto the commanding persona he liked to assume, but he could feel himself unravelling, so much quicker than anticipated. All he could think about was her, about how pretty she was, how lovely her voice was, how nice she felt beneath him.

He just wanted to hold her hand and imagine her carrying his child. He just wanted her belly to grow round, her cheeks stained in a perpetual blush.

“And do you know what?” He lowered his voice, softened it until it brushed against her flushed skin like a feather. He could feel himself quivering inside of her, throbbing as her walls spasmed around him.

Her lips parted, wobbling as she managed a weak “what?”

He lowered his lips to the shell of her ear. “Everyone will know that I’m yours.”

She gasped, and he could feel the way she fluttered around him, so tight it felt like her body was trying to draw the cum from him. The heat in his core was spilling into his cock, and he knew he was teetering at the edge, little more than a breath away from freefall.

“Help me make a baby, my princess.” He tried to murmur his words as smoothly as he could, but they came out breathy, stilted. His whole body burned, and he knew he was about to be swept away in the inferno. “All I can think about is filling you until my baby is in you.”

Whimpering, she took hold of his wrists, her grip surprisingly strong.

“Good girl,” he breathed. Her legs were twitching, her heels digging into his back as though she were trying to hold herself in place. “Good. Let me fill you up just like this.”

She was struggling to keep her eyes open, he could tell. But he wanted to look at her when she came, he wanted to see her release in her expression right before he spilled inside of her again. He wanted to watch as her eyes were swallowed by the black of her pupil, until he felt like he was looking at the moments before the dawn. He wanted to watch as her lashes fluttered, as gasps stained by little whimpers fell from her swollen lips. And then, as she was reaching her very peak, he would press his mouth to hers, would swallow those whimpers and moans entirely, the feel of her body trembling beneath him pushing him over the edge.

“Keep your eyes on me.” He took hold of her chin, keeping her focused on him. He smiled as her eyes widened, satisfaction arcing through him like lightning “Don’t look away, princess.”

“I’m not.” Her brow furrowed for the barest of moments. She looked like she was trying to pout, and the attempt made Gavin chuckle.

“Don’t…” She groaned. “Don’t laugh at me.”

He kissed the fluttering pulse in her throat before meeting her gaze once more. “I would never. But I want you to watch me.”

Gavin narrowed his eyes, slamming his hips against hers, picking up the pace once more. It took him a moment to find his words again, his body convulsing as her hips rolled against his, grinding against him so perfectly.

“Watch me fill you up,” he leaned close to nip at the shell of her ear. “Watch as I put my baby in you.”

Rowan cried out, the pulsing of her walls as erratic as her pulse, as her ragged breaths.

She screamed out his name, her nails digging into the skin of his wrists. Her body arched, her eyes practically rolling into the back of her head.

The sweat of her body, the grinding of her hips, the spasming of her body around him, the stream of moans and whines falling from her lips. It was all too much for him. He ached, throbbing almost painfully before the tension in his body snapped.

Gavin found her lips as he unravelled, moaning as his seed spilled inside of her. It felt wet and hot, her body feeling even tighter than it had when they’d first begun, like there was no space left inside of her.

He kept moving his hips, kept thrusting deep into her again and again, his movements fast, unsteady. He needed to push his release as far into her as he could, had to bury it deep inside of her body so their baby could grow.

The desire to be closer overwhelmed him, and he broke their kiss to press his face against her neck. He kissed her roughly, nipped at her collarbone, dragged his lips down to her breasts to bury his face in the valley between them.

He groaned, listening to the frantic beat of her heart. She was hot, burning up like she’d been caught in the wildfire in his veins. It would consume them both, turn them to ash on the messy sheets.

He murmured her name again and again. Oh how his Rowan felt so good, how she sounded so good. She was squeezing him so tight, it was so good. His princess, his beautiful princess. His precious Rowan.

He wasn’t even sure if she could hear his words. He was moaning them against her skin, the wind in their room howling. But he also couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop saying her name, couldn’t stop breathing praises with every thrust of his hips.

Rowan’s hands found their way into his hair, the sensation of her nails scraping along his scalp making him groan. He could hardly think beyond the feel of her skin against his, the sharp pierce of her nails dragging down his neck.

They rode out their orgasms together, bodies tangled together as they shuddered. They were caught in a storm, lightning striking in their bones, wind tearing at their hair. Perhaps they were the storm itself; Gavin certainly felt like he was swept up in the force of her release, in how it seemed to shatter his world.

He was gasping for breath when the hurricane of their shared climax finally calmed. There was wreckage in their wake; torn clothes, stained sheets, picture frames knocked over on bedside tables, Rowan’s collection of plushies toppled onto the floor from the shelf they’d so lovingly been set on.

It was a mess to be handled later. Because right now Gavin was still revelling in the feel of her body. He was listening to the rhythm of her heart as its beat slowed, sighing as she ran her fingers through his hair, gentle this time.

“I love you,” he breathed, brushing a chaste kiss to the curve of her breast. “I love you, Rowan.”

She whined, shifting beneath him until her lips found the top of his head.

Her response was breathy, small. But to him it was more precious than any gemstone, any poetic speech. “I love you too.”

He could have stayed there forever. He could have stayed wrapped up in her arms for all of eternity.

But, there was still more he had to do.

With a desolate sigh, Gavin slowly peeled himself away from her body. Rowan whined, pouting at him as though to persuade him to stay put.

“Hold on, princess.” He winced as he drew himself from her body, his release smearing the delicate skin and the inside of her thighs. “There’s still something else we have to do.”

“Babey.” She wiggled helplessly, her brow furrowing. “Come back.”

“In a minute. Just be patient.” He couldn’t help chuckling, even as he longed to lay back in her arms. He was never happier than when he was wrapped in her embrace, never safer than when he was cradled in her arms.

“You want a baby, don’t you?”

She blinked, her eyes glassy, as though she’d forgotten everything but him.

He wouldn’t have minded that; he always wanted to be the most important thing on her mind, just as she was always his.

“Pumpkin.” He smirked, delight dancing in his chest. “Didn’t you want to make a baby?”

Slowly she nodded, some of the light returning to her eyes.

“Then let me do this, and then we can cuddle.”

Her eyes brightened until they looked like they were made of starlight. There were galaxies in her eyes, entire universes of life and warmth and all the love he would ever need.

He instructed her to lay back, retrieving the pillows and tucking them beneath her head and beneath her hips. She’d been lying on her back for a while, and he didn’t want her to be in any pain.

Then he carefully folded her legs against her chest, stroking her hair as he laid beside her.

“Do you think this will work?” She sounded sleepy, but there was a twinkle of hope, like the first shimmer of light before dawn broke across the sky.

“I do.”

A smile like a crescent moon arced over her lips. “You think we made a baby?”

He leaned close, brushing a kiss to her cheek. “If we didn’t, we can always try again.”

Rowan smirked, watching him from the corner of her eyes. “And if we really did make a baby?”

“Then when that baby is born, we’ll try again for another.”

She gasped, trying to roll onto her side to smack him. Laughter bubbled in his chest as he took hold of her hands, bringing them to his lips.

“You need to lie still,” he teased, brushing kisses to her fingertips. “Or else it won’t take.”

“You’re making it awfully difficult,” she groused.

The wrinkle of her nose made him laugh, and he nearly lost his grip on her legs.

“What exactly am I doing that’s making it so difficult?” He pinched her side, feeling smug as her cheeks deepened to crimson once more.

A line formed between her brows, and he could tell she was trying very hard to be annoyed at him, to find a reason to be annoyed with him. “You’re teasing me.”

“I would never.”

When she tried to wriggle her hands free he just kissed them again, nipped at her fingertips until she stopped fighting against him.

“Yes you are.” Her voice rose an octave, turning to a warbling whine. “You’re teasing me right now!”

It was a fight to hold back his smile, and he was losing terribly. “I’m just trying to keep you from moving to make sure everything we’ve done takes.” He knew he was beaming perhaps a little too widely, but he couldn’t help the spark of mischief that bounced around the cavern of his ribs. “Unless you want us to do this again.”

“Of course I want to-” Her words cut off suddenly, her eyes widening as she realized she’d walked right into his trap.

He snorted, which only seemed to add fuel to the fire.

“Gavin Bai!” It would have been a shriek had her vocal chords not been tired from how long she’d been screaming his name. Instead it sounded more like an indignant, raspy sigh.

“Yes?” He nipped her fingers again, adoring the way colour rose on her cheeks as he did so.

“You’re still teasing me.”

He sank his teeth into the side of her hand, holding her gaze as she sucked in a sharp breath.

“I would never dream of teasing you, Mrs. Bai.”

Her face was so red now it could have been the sky as the fire of the setting sun set it alight. She huffed, turning her head away. “You’re such a liar.”

Now he was gaping, although laughter rattled his bones like bells trembling in the wind. “I would never lie! I don’t lie to you.”

She huffed again, the shadow of a smile on her lips. “You’re teasing me right now, and then saying you’re not!”

He’d been caught, although he hadn’t exactly been trying to hide it. He might as well lean into it.

“I just want you to know that if this doesn’t work we can always try again.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, trailing a line of chaste kisses up the inside of her arm as she squirmed. “I still have vacation time available for this year that I haven’t taken.”

She squirmed, although there was nowhere for her to go. She was stuck in his hold, his lips making their way to her collarbone now, up her throat, much less chaste than before.

“We could go on vacation somewhere warm,” he breathed the words against her skin. “Somewhere always sunny. We can keep the windows open, let the breeze in while-”

He finally made it to her lips, capturing them just as she was trying to chide him. She squeaked, her words cut off before they’d escaped her mouth.

Gavin smiled against her lips, humming. Had there ever really been a point in his life when he hadn’t been this happy? When he hadn’t felt so comfortable, so safe? When he hadn’t felt so free to say what he wanted, when he hadn’t felt so free to want?

He wanted her, he wanted every piece of her. He wanted her little sighs and her warm embraces. He wanted her when she was tired, when she was angry. He wanted her when she was happy, when she shone more brilliantly than the sun.

He wanted their baby. Maybe more than one, if she wanted that too.

And he wanted her to want him. Wanted to be loved by her.

“What do you say?” He asked, beaming as she panted, her brow twitching like she was trying to glare. “Where would you like to go?”

Her eyes cleared then, and she smacked him, laughing. “Gavin!”

“Yes?” He kissed her cheek, her laughter like beautiful music. “Yes, my love?”

“You’re still teasing me!”

He shook his head. “Am not!” She arched a brow in disbelief. Heat crawled over Gavin’s ears and over his cheeks and he looked away, huffing at her skepticism. “I’m just planning out the best way to make a baby.”

She snorted, fingertips sketching over the curve of his ear. “Oh really?”

His shoulders slumped, and he buried his face against her shoulder, trying to hide the flush creeping over him. “I really do want a baby.”

She stilled for the barest of moments, her breath catching. Gavin tensed, wondering what such a response could mean.

“Gavin,” she sighed, rubbing his back. “Won’t you look at me?”

He pressed himself closer, deciding he could be just as petulant as she was sometimes.

“Gavin.”

Perhaps not. He wasn’t particularly skilled at holding out against her. But he did look up slowly, eyes averted as his heart constricted, his chest closing in around it until it could hardly manage a single beat.

She clicked her tongue, cupping his cheeks. “Gavin, babey. Won’t you actually look at me?”

“I am,” he muttered. He even popped his bottom lip out for good measure, knowing that would surely help his case if she were about to chastise him. She thought it was cute, and he usually ended up smothered in kisses whenever he pouted.

She hummed. “Maybe I should get up, if you don’t want to even look at me.”

She started to move, shifting her legs out of his grip and sliding to the side. Gavin didn’t really think before taking her legs and pressing them back to her chest, holding her still with both hands this time.

“Don’t,” he said, breathless. “Just in case it helps.”

She giggled, drawing his face close to kiss him gently. “Will you look at me now?”

He did, knowing he couldn’t resist her for much longer.

“I love you, Gavin,” she breathed, brushing his bangs back from his sweaty forehead. “I love you with my entire heart.”

“I love you, too.”

“Did you mean it?” Her voice lifted, her breath catching as her question hung in the air. “Did you really mean you do want a baby?”

He nodded, holding her gaze now. “I did.”

“You really want one right now?”

He nodded, his throat growing tight. Why was she asking? Was she going to change her mind? Had he said something that scared her?

All his worries were washed away in the next moment, a brilliant smile blooming on Rowan’s lips. She laughed, kissing him again, and again, and again until he was laughing along with her.

“Oh I’m so glad,” she cried, and he realized then that she was crying too. Silver lined her eyes, pooling in the corner of her eyes and slipping down to the ruined sheets. “I’m so glad.”

“You’re not changing your mind?”

She sniffed, shaking her head as she laughed again. “Not even a little bit. I guess…” She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders as her tears spilled in earnest now. “I guess I’m just so happy you want a baby with me.”

He released her legs, wiping the tears from her flushed face. “Of course I do. More than anything.”

“And you really really mean it?”

He cupped her face, stroking her cheeks. “Of course I do.”

“What if I want only one?”

“Then we’ll have one.”

“And if I want two?”

He chuckled, brushing her lips with his. “Then we’ll have two.”

“And if I want more?”

He arched a brow, catching the curve of her lips. Her eyes were bright, curious and amused in equal measure. She was joking now, a little bit. But there was an earnestness to it that he knew she was being genuine.

“As many as you want.” He kissed her again, deeper this time. “We’ll have as many babies as you could want.”

Rowan wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close. “You mean it?”

“There’s nothing that would make me happier.”

She laughed again, tears still trailing down her cheeks as she pressed her face against the side of his neck. “I love you, Gavin. I love you so much.”

He cleared his throat, biting back his smile as he added “that does mean one thing, though.”

She peeled away, peering at him quizzically. “What does it mean?”

“It means you have to let me hold your legs like this a little longer.” He pinched her side. “No wiggling away.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “I guess I can handle that.”

“And you have to help me pick out a vacation.”

“Gavin, we can’t just go on vacation, you-”

“We can.” He beamed as he cut her off. “We can just go on vacation.”

She wrinkled her nose, looking at him in disbelief. “And what, have sex the whole time?”

“Do you know another way to make a baby?” He tapped her bottom lip, smirking.

“But to take a vacation so suddenly? Isn’t work busy right now for you?”

He sighed, kissing her again. “Just consider it, pumpkin. I’d like to take some time, just the two of us.”

“Okay,” she murmured, seeming more at ease. “I’ll consider it.”

They stayed that way for a while longer, fatigue slowly settling over them like a blanket. His body grew heavy, Rowan’s eyes fluttered as she struggled to keep them open. He could feel his mind straying, sinking into the murky world of his dreams. He loosed his hold on her legs without realizing it, and they fell to the sheets with a soft shush.

In the back of his mind he knew he should probably get up. His release got long-since cooled and it had grown thick and tacky on her skin. He needed to wipe it up at the very least, make her more comfortable. It was too late to bathe, and they were both feeling the exhaustion of their earlier activities creeping through their veins, but he could still clean her up a little.

But when he moved she whined, digging her nails into his back.

“Princess, please,” he said, fighting against a yawn. “I need to clean you up.”

“But I don’t want you to go,” she whined, pouting so adorably his resolve shook. “You’re so warm. I wanna hold you.”

“It will just be a minute,” he promised. “But I need to get you cleaned up.”

She huffed, wrinkling her nose as she squeezed her eyes shut. “But I want you to stay.”

“I’ll be right back. Please, princess.”

Dragging himself from her arms was perhaps the most difficult thing he had ever done, but he managed it. Rowan continued to complain from the bed, whimpering that she was cold and lonely. There was a smile in her voice, he could tell, but that didn’t stop the longing that grew in his heart with every step away from her.

“Gavin, I’m sleepy,” she called as he ran a soft cloth under warm water.

“I know, love,” he called back, emerging from the bathroom, eyes aching from the sudden brightness when he’d flicked the lights on.

“I can’t sleep without you.”

He chuckled, quickening his pace until he was perched on the side of the bed. “I’m right here, see?”

She huffed, clearly displeased. But this was the least he could do; he needed to take care of, needed to make sure she felt more comfortable before she fell asleep.

“Don’t pout,” he cooed, carefully wiping her clean. “I’m almost done.”

“Then you’ll come back to bed?”

He smiled as he sat back, his mission completed. “Yes.”

“Promise?”

He nodded, brushing a kiss to her brow. “I promise. Just let me put this cloth in the laundry.”

Gavin could not have taken more than two minutes at the most to toss the cloth into the bathroom laundry and wash his hands. Yet when he returned, bathroom lights off and the room illuminated by the soft glow of the nightlight in the corner, she was already half-asleep.”

Rowan had curled up on her side, her eyes closed, her features softened in the golden haze that stained the shadows of the room. When he brushed her hair back from her cheek she only sighed, murmuring something unintelligible.

He smiled, trying to be as careful as he could as he slipped into bed beside her. Her brows furrowed and she shifted, pressing her face against his chest.

Gavin had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing aloud, worried about waking her. It was just so funny, so sweet. That she would want him at all, that even in sleep she craved his presence.

Years ago he would have thought something like this unbelievable. But there was nothing he believed in more than how much he loved her, and how much she loved him. Even in sleep he reached for her, nestled as close to her as he could. And in sleep she would hold him in a tight embrace until she awoke.

Sometimes it was an embrace that was a bit too tight, and he would wake first, but still it warmed his heart. Still it felt like he was awash in light more pure and life-giving than that of the sun.

He drew her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. Some of their blankets had been shoved to the side and he took hold of one, drawing it over their tangled bodies. She still felt a little warm, but he knew she would grow cold as the night wore on, and he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing one final kiss to the top of her head.

He felt her arms coiling around his side, heard the sound of her contented sigh as they melted together. And that was the last thing he remembered before slipping into oblivion.

***

They slept late into the morning. It was nearly noon by the time Rowan cracked her eyes open, not even the dark curtains able to hold back the bright gold of the sun.

She’d nestled back against Gavin, breathing in the smell of his skin; sweat and the remnants of his cologne and his soap. She was barely awake, and yet she’d already been able to feel the dull ache blooming at the apex of her thighs. Her body felt stiff, too, and even her bones seemed to ache when she moved.

It would be so much better to stay curled up in Gavin’s arms forever. He would keep her safe and warm, he would make sure she stayed comfortable.

But Gavin was already awake, his fingers tangling in her hair as she’d snuggled closer, the low rumble of his chuckle reverberating through her.

“Good morning,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “How did you sleep, my princess?”

“Good morning.” Her voice had been little more than a tired grumble, her eyes already falling closed as the beat of his heart began lulling her back to sleep. “S’good.”

He chuckled again, and butterflies emerged from her heart, fluttering gossamer wings against the edges of her chest. “Any good dreams?”

She gave a tired shake of her head. “No. No dreams.”

He rubbed her back, kissing her again. “And how do you feel?”

She groaned, pressing closer.

“Rowan, tell me how you feel.”

“Tired,” she whined, peeling away from his chest to glower at him. “I feel sleepy.”

He sighed, tapping her cheek. “Does it hurt anywhere? Are you okay?”

She looked away, pouting. “I’m okay Gavin, really. I just want to stay like this a little longer.”

His expression softened and he nodded, drawing her back against his chest. “Alright. But we should probably get you cleaned up.”

“What about you?” She traced her fingers across his chest, revelling in how strong he could be and how soft and comfortable he was.

“I’m not the one still full of cum.”

She froze, cheeks burning like she’d been set alight. “Well… Um…”

Rowan didn’t have to look up to know Gavin was smirking, one brow arched as he patiently waited for a response she didn’t have. He hummed, running his hand up and down the back of her neck, massing the crook of her neck before sliding his hand up again.

“I could also be carrying your baby now.” Her tongue felt heavy and thick in her mouth as she stammered out the words, but the effect they had on Gavin was almost instantaneous.

He froze, his breath catching. He seemed to tense, and as Rowan lifted her head she caught sight of the adorable blush that always stained the tips of his ears before washing over the rest of his face.

“What do you think?” She couldn’t help teasing him, not after he’d teased her so much the night before. She took his hand, guiding it to her belly. “Do you think there’s a baby in there?”

Gavin coughed, quickly averting his eyes. “I hope so.”

“Well weren’t you the one who said if there wasn’t we could always try again.”

His eyes narrowed, little more than dark gold slits as they slowly turned back to her. “I was.”

“And that we could go on a nice long vacation to try in peace?”

He moved before she could breathe, flipping her onto her back, hands pressing into the pillows on either side of her head.

“Are you saying we should try a little more? Just to be safe?” He leaned close, nipping at her ear.

Whatever Rowan had been planning to say fled her mind on iridescent wings, leaving nothing behind but the fluttering of her heart as Gavin continued to nip and kiss his way along her jaw.

“I was only saying…” She trailed off, her thoughts slippery as she tried to grasp at them. What had she been saying?

He hummed, his lips at the thrum of her pulse in her neck. “Tell me, princess. What were you saying?”

She squeaked, fingers twisting into his hair. “I don’t remember.”

He started laughing then, warm and low and beautiful as the melody of any love song.

“What?!” She snapped, but there was no true ire in her voice. She just sounded breathy, maybe a little nervous.

Gavin peeled away from her, gently drawing her against his chest as he rolled onto his back. “Nothing, love. You’re just so cute.”

She ground her teeth together, levelling a furious stare at him. “You were teasing me again, weren’t you!”

“It’s just so easy,” he murmured against her hair, hiding his face from her as he continued to laugh.

“You’re so unbelievable!” She tried smacking him, but he only laughed harder, and she realized her efforts were in vain.

She deflated, smushing her cheek against his chest. “You have to be nice to me. I could be carrying your baby.”

“I’m always nice to you.” He tucked her hair back behind her ear, a smile in his voice.

“We clearly have different definitions of always,” she grumbled, glaring at the muscles she had been enamoured with barely a few moments earlier.

He pinched her side, shocking her from her thoughts. “What was that?”

Rowan pouted. “See? That’s not nice!”

“I’m sorry love,” he cooed, rubbing her back. “It’s just so easy to tease you. And you always look so pretty when you’re irritated.”

She furrowed her brow even as her cheeks heated. Why was he such a dork? Why did he say such dorky things thinking they were sweet? And why were they always as sweet as spun sugar to her anyways?

“You’re pretty always,” he amended, cupping her cheek. “But I do love this expression.”

Rowan sighed, leaning into his touch. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“I’m the luckiest person in the world to be loved by you.”

She smiled, tilting her head to press a kiss to his palm. “You mean that?”

He smiled now too, the colour rising in his cheeks. “With my whole heart.”

She kissed his hand again, holding it against her cheek while he chuckled, telling her that her little kisses tickled. She considered trailing kisses up his arm, listening to his laughter grow and expand like a newborn star, but just as she leaned forward the ache between her legs sharpened, and her legs began to throb dully.

“Gavin.” His eyes brightened, refocusing on her face. His expression looked dreamy, like he was caught in a daydream, like he was filled with adoration for her. It made her body turn to jelly, and she nearly melted into a Rowan-shaped puddle beneath his gaze.

“What is it?” He cupped the back of her neck with his other hand, his thumb idly stroking the side of her throat.

“My body kind of aches.” A flicker of worry darkened his expression, but she quickly kissed his wrist, hoping that would distract him. The absolute last thing she wanted was for him to feel upset or guilty for the aches and bruises she was beginning to feel. They were nothing more than reminders of how wholly he had made love to her and she wasn’t about to let him think for a second that it was a bad thing.

“Do you think we could have a bath?” She asked, pouting just a little bit. Gavin couldn’t say no when she pouted, especially not right now when she was tangled in his arms and still very, very naked from the night before.

He didn’t hesitate, murmuring in affirmation before disentangling himself from her arms.

“Just wait here,” he said, kissing her cheek as he stood. “I’ll be right back.”

“Babey, wait,” she reached out to snag his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

He arched a brow. “What is it?”

“Well it kind of hurts,” she flicked her gaze down to the apex of her thighs, then back up. “There. I need you to carry me.”

He blinked once, twice, and then his eyes brightened and a sly smile began to spread across his lips. “As you wish, my princess.”

A few minutes passed, the sound of water running in the bathroom, and then Gavin was returning, scooping her into his arms like she truly was a delicate princess and carrying her to the bath.

“Maybe we should try more often,” she mused as he lowered her into the water. “I do like being carried in your arms.”

His expression was one of bliss, so much reverence and love in his eyes that if she’d been standing her legs would have given out beneath her. “I’ll carry you whenever you ask.”

“Even if my legs are working just fine?”

“If that’s what makes you happy.” He stroked her jaw, kneeling beside the tub as he watched her with those soft, warm eyes.

She splashed him, grinning as he chuckled. “Are you not getting in with me?”

“In a minute.” His bangs were soaked from the water, and as he ran his fingers through his hair they slicked back, a few loose tendrils framing his brow.

She pouted, splashing him again. “Why not now?” She needed him now, needed to nestle against his chest for a while.

He snorted, flicking the surface of the bathwater back at her. “It will only be a few minutes. I just want to get the sheets in the laundry.”

She huffed, sinking in the water until she was almost entirely submerged. “I guess that’s a good point.”

“Just relax for a few minutes. I’ll be back soon.”

And then he really was gone, and Rowan couldn’t keep splashing him. She groaned, sinking fully beneath the water. The bath was perfectly hot, the heat of the water seeping into her bones, easing some of the aches in her body.

She still felt stiff, and it probably would be a bit difficult to walk all day, but at least the heat was soothing her muscles, relaxing her body until it felt warm and weightless.

Gavin returned quickly, only leaving Rowan to languish in the solitary bath for a few moments. She dunked her head a few more times, reminded of when she would pretend she was a mermaid as a child. His muffled laughter broke through the water and she popped her head up, wiping her face to find him grinning down at her.

“Having fun?”

She splashed him again, scooting forward to make room for him. “I am.”

He arched a brow, grabbing a towel and settling it on the floor. “And what are you doing? Pretending to be a mermaid?”

“And what if I am?”

His smile grew, and he kissed the top of her head. “I already know you’re magical.”

She reached up to take his hands, water splattering over the edge of the tub and over the towel he’d laid down. “I mean I’m not actually a mermaid.”

He lifted her hands to his lips. “I only mean that I wouldn’t be surprised if you were.”

It was so hard not to smile. His words were silly, almost childish. And yet his eyes were so bright, his own smile so soft. Perhaps a little proud too, at having said something he thought was pretty cool.

“You’re such a dork,” she teased, flicking his cheek.

“But I’m yours.”

His words sent a tendril of heat twisting down her spine, stretching across her nerves, like ivy tangling itself around her, reaching all the way to her fingertips.

“Yes,” she agreed, squeezing his hands. “You’re mine.”

He lowered her hands back into the water, splashing her lightly. “Do you think I could join you then?”

“Yes. Yes please.”

Gavin didn’t need any more coaxing, slipping into the bath behind her and drawing her against his chest.

“There,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Is that better?”

“Oh it’s much better.”

He stroked her hip absently, humming for a long moment. “I’m glad.”

“Although I’ll still need to be taken care of more I think.” She yawned, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. “You did mention something about me being a princess last night.”

He snorted, nuzzling against the crook of her neck. “I might remember something along those lines.”

“Well I expect you to take care of me like I really am one.”

The rumble of his laughter against her skin spilled through her, like thunder shaking the foundation of a home. There was something comforting in it, something that made her want to curl up inside that sound.

“You are one,” he teased, the kiss he dropped to her shoulder being far more innocent than she thought he was capable of anymore. “Of course I’ll be taking care of my princess exactly as she deserves.”

Heat bloomed in Rowan’s cheeks, his words like sparks of static shock, making her body hum with each lilt of his voice.

“You’ll carry me today?” Her voice was so much quieter than she had wanted, but it was all she could manage as he continued trailing little kisses over her shoulder and up the back of her neck.

His fingertips grazed the skin at the nape of her neck, gently brushing the soft baby hairs that curled there. A shiver went down her spine despite the heat of the bath, despite the growing heat in her face that was crawling across the rest of her body, staining her a burning scarlet.

“I’ll carry you whenever you want,” he promised, murmuring the words against her hair. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Will you order me breakfast?”

She could feel his smile against her. “Already on the way.”

Rowan’s hands sank into the water, and she gave a halfhearted splash. “Will you stay with me all day? And give me little massages where it hurts most?”

Another chuckle, his hands sliding down her sides, gently taking hold of her thighs. “I’ll massage you anywhere you’d like…” He trailed off, his hands slipping up the inside of her thighs, so close to her entrance she could feel the heat from his hands, different from that of the bath.

She felt fatigued from the night before, and the bath was doing nothing but making her body feel leaden, like she could sink into oblivion and never wake for a thousand years. But Gavin’s touch reignited her senses, if only for a spare moment, like a lightbulb flickering to life with the dredges of its power. She elbowed him, water splashing as he grunted, his hand moving to rest on her hip.

“You haven’t even given me time to rest!” She twisted around, splashing water into his face. “I didn’t even get a full night’s sleep!”

He chuckled, wiping his face, his smile all mischief as their eyes met. “If we’re trying to make a baby, shouldn’t we take every opportunity we have to make one?”

She practically shovelled handfuls of water at him, scooting away from him as she continued her assault. Gavin threw his hands up, snorting, although his attempt to defend himself was to no avail. There was no stopping the fistfuls of water, especially not when Rowan grabbed the little cup at the edge of the bath they sometimes used to rinse their hair when they were bathing.

“I need rest!” She cried, dumping water over his head. “I need to rest before you fuck me all night long!”

Gavin ducked his head, hands shooting out to grab hold of her wrists, freezing her attack.

He yanked her back towards him, so suddenly she gasped as she toppled against his chest.

“I like to think of it as making love.” Shivers raced across her skin as he breathed the words against the shell of her ear. Despite the heat of the bath her hair stood on end, her fingers tingling as he continued. “It’s prettier, and suits my princess much more.”

She shivered again, her hands pressed up against his chest, utterly useless now.

“And we’re going to make something beautiful,” he murmured, the sudden contact of his teeth as he nibbled her ear making her breath catch. One of his hands stroked her side, running over her belly like he could already feel life taking root inside of her.

Rowan wasn’t exactly sure what to say, her words escaping her entirely. He was humming now, and she didn’t have to look up to know he was smiling as he ran his hand along the curves of her body. Almost like he were revelling in the state he had put her in, delighting in how she was so flustered she could not speak, could only tense as his hand ghosted over her clit before drawing it away.

“But you’re right.” His tone returned to normal, his hands moving to her back, holding her close but no longer teasing her. “You do need your rest. I want you to feel refreshed before we do any more lovemaking.” He dropped a kiss to the tip of her head, and she couldn’t resist looking up to find his eyes glittering, bright as stars, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a devilish grin.

Rowan pouted. She was unable to do much else, but perhaps Gavin would stop teasing her if she did; he hadn’t been able to resist her pouting face yet.

“Nice try.” Gavin cupped her face, his thumb running over her bottom lip as he laughed. “But I think it’s doing the opposite of what you want it to.”

Heat pooled in her belly as his voice dipped, sweet as sun-warmed honey. “And what do you think I want?”

“I think you want me to stop teasing you,” he continued to stroke her bottom lip, his eyes going dark. “But all this is making me want is to take you right now.”

Rowan’s heartbeat stumbled, and she shivered beneath his gaze. His eyes looked hungry, and his smile was sharp. He looked very much like he would take her right there, would sink his fingers inside of her until she was a whimpering mess, and then he would draw her into his lap and thrust inside of her until she was screaming his name and he filled her entirely all over again.

There was a part of her that ached for him to touch her again. She always ached for his touch, for his hands and his lips and his teeth.

But she was also very tired, and her body felt as though it were made of lead. And right now she just wanted to be held, wanted to be snuggled in his arms as she sank into her dreams. She wanted to be roused by gentle kisses and the smell of breakfast suffusing the air.

Gavin was still smiling at her, one brow arched, and it was only then that she realized she still had her bottom lip out. She drew it in quickly, biting the inside of her lip as he laughed.

“Aren’t you tired?” She squirmed in his arms, breaking free just enough to scoot a few inches away. “We hardly got any sleep!”

“I’m never tired with you.” He seemed amused, his eyes practically glowing as he closed that small distance between them. “I feel like I have all the energy in the world when I’m with you.”

Rowan knew that was categorically a lie. She’d also thought he was full of energy when they’d first started dating, but never had she met anyone more prone to napping. It was like he was perpetually sleepy, always looking for an excuse to cuddle up with her and fall asleep in the early afternoon.

Although perhaps those afternoon naps contributed to this energy he allegedly felt, though. Perhaps he was forever storing up energy for the times when he made love to her for hours at a time.

It was such an absurd thought that Rowan began to giggle, realizing far too late as Gavin’s eyes widened that he was not privy to the strange turn her thoughts had taken.

“What’s so funny?” He looked even more delighted now, leaning so close she nearly fell back.

“It’s nothing!” She scooted away, her back hitting the edge of the tub.

She was trapped, Gavin’s hands bracketing her in as they took hold of the tub on either side of her.

“Why don’t you want to tell me?” He nuzzled against her neck, scattering kisses between each word.

“N-nothing, I promise!”

He hummed, teeth grazing her chin.

Rowan gasped, pushing uselessly at his shoulders. “Gavin! I thought you said you’d take care of me!”

“Is this not taking care of you?” He kissed her again, his teeth sinking into her flesh for the barest of moments before his tongue swiped over her skin, soothing the flash of pain into a dull ache.

“Gavin!”

He was chuckling, smug satisfaction dripping from his expression alongside the drops of water beading on his face and trickling down his cheeks. His knee was wedged between her thighs, his eyes dark as they swept over her. “Is this not taking care of all your needs?”

Rowan ground her teeth together. She really could have rolled her hips up, and she’d be riding his thigh. Which was certainly something that would have delighted Gavin, having her give in so quickly. He would certainly respond in kind, until they had to get out and run an entirely new bath.

For a moment Rowan’s sense seemed to fizzle out, and she considered giving in to his teasing. It would feel so good, and he would murmur sweet praises against her skin as he sank inside of her, over and over, until they were sated.

But she really did want to be held gently. She wanted to wrap herself in a blanket and curl up in his lap and fall asleep to the sound of his voice and the feel of his fingers in her hair as he played with it.

Rowan struggled to meet his eyes, her resolve shaking beneath his gaze. For his part, Gavin was still watching her raptly, still just as pleased with himself. His eyes were alight with mischief, one of his hands curling loose tendrils of her hair round and around his finger. She struggled to find her words, to argue against his teasing when her mind was so muddled from the warm steam of the bath and his nearness.

“But I want you to be gentle with me right now.” Her voice came out small, and inwardly she cursed herself for the words, knowing how easily he could spin them to his own desires.

And he did, his smile growing wider before her words had even fully formed. “I can be gentle.”

Ire made it easier to hold his gaze, and Rowan huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, my princess?”

She puffed out her cheeks, scowling at a scuff on the floor. She knew her voice sounded whiny, and yet she couldn’t help herself as she spoke again. “Gavin, I’m sleepy. I want you to take care of me…” She went so far as to attempt to pout again, daring to meet his gaze from beneath her lashes. “I want you to baby me.”

Gavin cocked his head to the side, regarding her quietly for a few beats. The colour in his cheeks deepened, spreading down his jaw and throat and over his bare chest. His expression softened, eyes crinkling as the mischief was replaced by a gentle glow. Less like flickering stars and more like the soft light of the nightlight they had plugged in the corner of their bedroom.

Another moment passed and he began laughing, shoulders quivering as he dropped his head, burying his face in the valley of her breasts.

“Gavin?” She didn’t know what to do. He was still laughing, the sound reverberating through her like thunder pealing through the night. She hadn’t expected this kind of response at all, and she was at a complete loss as he wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her close as his laughter spilled into her veins.

He murmured something she couldn’t hear, his arms tightening as he held her closer.

“What is it?” She brushed his hair back, tucking a few longer strands behind his ear. Something had changed, shifted from earlier. He seemed more docile, holding her tenderly as though she were so delicate she would crumple if he clutched her too tightly.

He lifted his head, chin propped against her sternum as he slowly sketched his gaze over her face. It took him a long while before finally he fixed his eyes on hers, his face the powdery pink of a peony in bloom. His smile was soft as feather-down, his eyes the gold of a spoonful of sun-warmed honey. 

Her jaw was aching from how sweet he looked, her heart thrumming like the wings of a hummingbird in flight, warmth unspooling from her chest with every beat. The bliss she felt looking into his eyes was like sinking her teeth into a slice of cake drowning in sugary frosting and candies; she could taste the sweetness on her tongue, feel how her veins seemed to overflow, how her nerves seemed to buzz and spark.

Whatever he was feeling was contagious, and she knew that this overwhelming feeling of warmth and elation was fizzing through him, too. She knew that it was going to his head like bubbling wine, the rest of the world blurring into a mess of colours and sounds that could not be named. It was the only explanation for the flush of his cheeks, the starry look in his eyes.

Gavin looked like he was drunk. But it wasn’t alcohol that he was drunk on.

She drew in a sharp breath as the realization sparkled like gold emerging before her. He was drunk on her, intoxicated by her.

Rowan’s face burned, hotter than flame. It was not like this was news to her; they’d been together for years, Gavin had told her that she had his entire heart, that she was the most precious thing in his life. And yet there was something about the way he looked at her now that stole her breath, that made her heart stumble and the realization threaten to send her reeling.

He murmured a quiet “I love you,” before lowering his lips to her chest, pressing a kiss to her skin, his eyes never leaving her face.

“I love you too.” Her response was stammered, nervous. As though this were the first time she had ever told him so, and not another iridescent pearl in the string of ‘I love yous’ that would span the rest of their lives.

“You’re everything to me.”

She might have whimpered, although his touches now were chaste and soft. But it was the flood of warmth and love and the light like she was standing beneath a star blooming into existence. She was drowning in the ocean of his love, being drawn deeper by the undertow. When she breathed in, her lungs were filled with love. When she reached out towards him she felt the tingle of affection, of joy at her fingertips. When she closed her eyes she saw a cacophony of colours that most reminded her of him, of love, of wrapped in his arms.

She opened her mouth to tell him how much he meant to her, but she could not find the words. What words even were there to describe how she felt about him? How dearly she loved him? What words were good enough for him, good enough for all the ways she loved him? What words would ever be enough?

There weren’t any words; none that would truly convey how she felt, how warm her heart was, how light she felt despite the fatigue from the night before weighing on her. She was made of sunshine and spun-sugar clouds, she was made of laughter and warm hugs. His smile and his voice and his hands were the only things she needed to get through the day.

She adored him, more than words could ever say.

Rowan wasn’t sure if Gavin understood what she was feeling, how could he when she couldn’t even say it? Maybe she was more tired than she’d first thought, maybe the lack of sleep and the steam and the closeness of his body were muddling her mind and turning her thoughts to mud.

Yet Gavin was smiling wider, reaching one hand up to brush her hair back, to stroke her cheek.

“I know,” he said, his words like breath. “I know, and I feel the same.”

He kissed her again, so gentle now where he had been so needy before. There were already red marks blooming across her skin, scattering across her breasts where his teeth had marked her. He pressed his lips to each mark, tender and loving as though she were something to be worshipped, as though she were a deity and he her devoted supplicant.

“I will do anything for you, love.” He closed his eyes as he spoke, leaning against her touch as she ran a hand through his hair.

“Anything?”

He opened his eyes again, little more than golden slits as they searched for her. “Yes, anything.”

She smiled, biting the corner of her lip. “You’ll take care of me?”

“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his words earnest. “But yes, I will make sure I take care of you now that we’re done making love.” His smile turned impish then. “For now.”

She flicked him, snorting, but he was entirely unfazed, still watching her with that same adoring look on his face.

“Then I need help bathing,” she said, trying to sound as imperious as she could. He’d called her a princess, after all, and why shouldn’t she act like one?”

Gavin straightened, bringing her with him until she was practically in his lap once more. “As you wish.”

He brushed his lips to her throat, scattering a constellation of kisses over her skin as he reached for the soap. His movements were languid, relaxed, as if they had all the time in the world as he squeezed out a dollop of lavender-scented soap onto a cloth and began massaging it into her skin. And perhaps they did, although the bathwater was already growing tepid and Rowan’s fingers were pallid and wrinkled from the water.

“The water is getting kind of cold,” she muttered, watching as Gavin’s brow creased.

Clicking his tongue, he lightly splashed the water, testing it before continuing. “It’s still lukewarm, love.”

“But I wanted it hot.”

Gavin chuckled in the face of her pout, setting aside the cloth to cup her face. Bubbles from the soap streaked from his palms down his arms, foaming as they hit the water. All the while he bumped his nose against hers, softly promising that he would run a new bath for her.

“But I just want to stay like this for a minute first,” he added, lips skimming the corner of hers, his kiss light as the flutter of butterfly wings.

Rowan couldn’t refuse, her heart begging to let her be held by him for as long as he wanted. Even if the water turned to ice, she would be happy to stay with him until he was sated. Her body was melting against his, her soft curves fitting perfectly against him like a puzzle piece clicking into place, like an ingredient needed to make a sweet dough finally being folded in.

Gavin could have as many minutes as he wanted, he could have all the minutes there were left in their shared lifetimes. So long as he continued to hold her, so long as she got to stay so close, the quiet pulse of his heart thrumming through her, echoing in the hollows of her bones.

She might have fallen asleep, she wasn’t sure. It was hard not to fall asleep cradled in his arms; he was warm, his heart beating a steady rhythm like a lullaby, his breath tangling in her hair, his hands stroking her cheeks and lightly gliding over her back.

One moment she was still half-submerged in the bath, the next she was wrapped in a towel, perched on the bathroom counter as tepid water sluiced down her legs and dripped into opalescent puddles on the floor. Shivers ran down her spine, gooseflesh crawling along her arms. The world was so cold without Gavin beside her, like she were perched outside as the first frost was painted across the world.

The sound of water gurgling as it drained echoed in her ears, no doubt louder in this moment than it usually was. Rowan drummed her fingers on her thigh, tapping her heel against the cabinet door beneath the counter she sat on, impatient. It felt like an eternity passed them by as the water drained out, Gavin humming a melody she could almost place. It wriggled into her mind, burrowing deep until even that melody echoed in her ears.

The song she couldn’t name was at least preferable to the sound of the tub draining, as the last of the water finally rushed away. But then came the agonizing wait while Gavin refilled the tub, water so hot it steamed up the mirror and windows. A diaphanous fog seemed to descend over the room, a little like they were standing in the middle of a cloud.

It took maybe a total of five minutes for Gavin to drain and refill the bath, and yet to Rowan it felt like a lifetime. She huffed, and was immediately rewarded with Gavin’s attention as he turned to peek at her over his shoulder.

“What is it?”

She stuck out her bottom lip, heedless of his earlier warning. Surely now he would not think it a turn-off, but rather just his wife being morose and in need of comfort.

His cheeks were a beautiful shade of pink, reminding her of the orchids she had seen in the local flower shop only a few days before. But Gavin blushed at the tiniest things. She could link her pinky finger with his and he would blush, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he squeezed her finger in return.

He arched a brow now, smirking as he crossed his arms. “Why are you pouting?”

Rowan kicked her feet again, sounding petulant as she spoke. “It’s taking too long.”

“What’s taking too long?”

“The bath.” She kicked her feet again, her heels making a satisfying thunk sound as they smacked against the cabinet door. “It’s taking so long.”

A snort. “It’s almost done, pumpkin.”

“I miss you.” She hunched her shoulders just a little, ducking her head so he couldn’t see her face. She knew exactly what to do to garner his attention, to entice him to move closer.

“I’m right here, I’m still here with you.” His words were undercut by the sound of his footsteps as he crossed the small space separating them. His hands fell to her waist, their heat radiating across her body even through the barrier of the towel between them. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

She flicked her eyes up, catching his from beneath the flutter of her lashes. “But you were over there, and I wanted you close.”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her as he drew her against him. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hold me I hope.”

He chuckled against her hair. “You know you could have just told me you wanted to be held.”

“What if you tried turning it into a sexual innuendo again?”

He peeled away to meet her gaze, feigning distress. “How could you think I would do such a thing?”

Gavin was getting better at acting, but his mouth was curling up, quivering as he fought to keep it pulled in a pout of his own.

She tapped his lips. “Your smile is giving you away.”

He chuckled, fingers wrapping around her wrist. “You caught me.”

“You’re such a dork.”

She wanted to cup his face and press kisses to his cheeks. She wanted to ruffle his hair and kiss him until he was breathless from laughing. She wanted to bite him, certain in this moment that he would taste like spun sugar and frosting.

“But I’m your dork, aren’t I?” He was looking far too smug for someone who had just been called a dork.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to fight against her smile as he pressed delicate kisses to the finger still hovering against his lips. “You are. You’re mine.”

“Then I’m happy to be whatever you’d like me to be.”

“Even a dork.”

He smirked. “Well I already knew I was a dork.”

“Did I make you think you weren’t mine?” She wracked her brain trying to figure out what she might have said. Was he just teasing? Had she truly hurt his feelings? And when had that happened? She’d just been practically begging for him to be closer, what had she said afterwards?

Gavin’s expression softened as he lifted her hand to kiss her wrist. “You’re thinking too hard, princess. I’ve always known I’m yours.” He shrugged then, mischief lingering in his smile. “Sometimes I just like to be reminded.”

She gaped, too stunned to move. “You were teasing me!”

He chuckled. “Guilty.”

“I can’t believe you were teasing me!” Her voice sounded shrill as she yanked her hand away from him, tucking it safely beneath the towel. “After I was so sad you weren’t close to me!”

“I’m sorry my princess.” He was laughing as he reached for her, as though he were going to draw her close to his chest once again.

Although there wasn’t far she could go, Rowan still wiggled backwards, until her back hit the mirror above the counter. The cool glass bit into her skin as she pressed her back against it, frowning at Gavin. “I don’t think you are sorry.”

It was no difficult feat for Gavin to draw her back towards him, still laughing at her mediocre attempt at an escape. “How can I prove it to you?”

“That’s a good question…” She trailed off as his lips found the curve of her jaw. She swallowed, balling up the fabric of the towel in her fists. “Gavin?”

“It’s not an innuendo, I promise.” His words tickled the skin of her throat, making her shiver.

“Then what is it?” Rowan tipped her head back on reflex, further baring the column of her neck for him.

He hummed softly, and it buzzed through her like static, reaching to the tips of her fingers and her toes. “Just me proving I love you.”

“That doesn’t prove you’re sorry!”

Brows arching high as he drew back, Gavin’s smile turned to mischief once more. “Maybe not. But it does prove I love you.”

“Kisses don’t prove you love me,” she said, her grip on her towel loosening. “Just that you like kissing me.”

The warmth of his chuckle seeped into her like the languid inch of alcohol unfurling in her veins, her skin heating so slowly she almost couldn’t tell until she was aflame. “I like kissing you because I love you.”

“How do I know?” Her shoulders trembled as his lips fell to the crook of her neck, tracing the line of her collarbone just above the edge of her towel. She snaked one hand up, cupping the back of his neck before splaying her fingers wide as she sketched the bumps and ridges of his spine. “How do I know it means you love me?”

His sigh was like the wind in the trees, rustling through the leaves and catching any before they fell, tossing them up and sending them out into the world. She felt as it scattered over her, as she was caught up in his voice, little more than a leaf or a flower petal in the wind.

“Trust me,” was his only reply, his lips trailing across her chest, his hands hovering just above her waist.

“I do trust you.”

That truly was the truth; she trusted Gavin more than she trusted anyone else in this world, more than she had ever thought was possible. For years she had believed that she would never truly be able to trust someone loved her unconditionally; there were always conditions. The ups and downs of her mental health, the myriad of health issues that plagued her, the way she had felt so aimless when her childhood dreams had fizzled out while she’d still been trying to find herself, the way her most precious hobbies would be perceived as childish and boring.

But Rowan never questioned Gavin; he was earnest, kind, not the sort of person that would lie. Gavin was gentle with her, was considerate, and he always seemed to work hard to make her feel better, make her feel happy, to remind her so often how precious she was to him. He took interest in her hobbies, he remembered her favourite things, he cuddled with her whenever she wanted to be close.

And she could feel, too, how much he wanted to be with her. As happy as he made her, she could see all the ways she made him. How soft his smiles were whenever they snuggled, how often he coaxed her into afternoon naps with him. He called her from work at lunch to tell her that he liked what she’d packed him. He was always asking to go out and do simple things together, even if all they did was run errands together and doze off on the couch while they ate take-out and rewatched one of their favourite movies. He was always looking for an excuse to hold her hand, to be close, to touch her face or play with her hair or draw her into his lap.

Of course she trusted him, how could she not? She hadn’t known it was possible to love someone so entirely, and yet her heart always seemed to grow bigger, her ribs cracking from the pressure, from all the warmth and sunshine and love that bloomed in her heart. It was in the marrow of her bones, it was in the cells that kept her stitched together.

“How could I not trust you?” She ran her knuckles over his cheek, aching for his touch, aching from how the feeling spilled through her like golden sunshine, golden champagne, like sparkles and glitter and starlight.

His smile softened, his eyes glowing, as if to say he had caught the unsaid words, that he understood what she was telling him.

She adored him, with all her heart and soul, down to her very cells, she adored him.

Gavin took her hand, leaning into her touch. “I love you, my Rowan. More than I ever thought possible. You are my moon, my stars, my entire galaxy.”

Her face burned, but she could not look away. She did not want to look away, not as his eyes shone with the light of millions of stars, an entire universe glowing in their depths.

“I love you, too.”

Her words felt small, weak in comparison to the surety of his own declaration. But they seemed to be all Gavin needed. His eyes closed, another sigh falling from his lips.

They stayed that way for a while, Gavin looking content, blissful as he nestled his cheek into her palm.

It was only the sound of water splashing onto the bathroom floor that roused him, drawing his attention to where the tub was overflowing.

“Oh shit,” he spun around, nearly slipping in the water puddling on the ground in his haste to shut the water off.

Rowan covered her mouth to stifle her giggles, although to no avail. Gavin narrowed his eyes, looking on the verge of scowling as he grabbed extra towels to sop up the water.

She kicked her feet again, still failing to smother her laughter. “I’m sorry for distracting you, babey.”

He sighed, pushing his bangs out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. “You don’t need to apologize. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Do you want me to help?”

He shook his head, opening his mouth to respond. He shut it just as quickly, his eyes suddenly glittering as they fixed on her.

She frowned. “What is it?”

“Maybe there is something you can do to atone for your crimes.” His grin was bordering on wicked, and despite the warmth from the steam rising from the bath, Rowan shivered.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say I committed a crime,” she mumbled, shrinking beneath his gaze.

“I would.” He was teasing her again, suddenly far too delighted in their current predicament. “And as an officer of the law, I would know best.”

She hummed, clutching at her towel as he moved closer. “Maybe you’re just abusing your power to get your way.”

He cocked his head to the side, reminding her of a predator. “I would never dream of doing such a thing.”

“Then why are you saying I’ve committed a crime! I’m innocent!”

He leaned close, his fingers toying with the corners of her towel. “For distracting me.”

“You just said it wasn’t my fault!”

“No, I said you didn’t need to apologize.” He was grinning so wide now, having far too much fun. “And now you’re obstructing justice.”

She gaped, feigning outrage. “You have no proof!”

He kissed the corner of her lips, humming. “I’m going to have to place you under arrest.”

“And what does that entail, officer?”

“For starters…” Rowan yelped as Gavin suddenly yanked her towel away, tossing it to the side. “This has to go.”

“Gavin,” she gasped, wrapping her arms around her torso.

She didn’t get much of a chance to argue any further as he scooped her into his arms, carrying her towards the bath.

���I’ll have to keep a close eye on you,” he continued, smiling against her hair. “You’re under house arrest until further notice.”

She snorted, giving him a halfhearted smack. “You carry criminals around now? And watch them while they’re under house arrest.”

He nodded, far too much delight in his expression to even pretend at being more somber. “Only for the most serious of violations.”

“And how long will this last?”

He hummed, considering her words as he settled her into the tub, water sloshing from the edge as it was redistributed around her weight. “A while.”

“And how long is a while?” She scooted forward, making room as he climbed in behind her. “That’s not a very precise measurement.”

“Well let’s see…” He trailed off as he drew her between his legs, her back pressing against his chest. “How about until we know if you’re pregnant.”

Heat instantly shot through her, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the bath. Her heartbeat felt more like butterfly wing-beats in a storm, frantic and small and feeble against the force of a hurricane.

In her silence Gavin scattered kisses over the back of her neck, his hands sliding around her torso, one hand splaying over her belly. As if to protect the child that might already be growing there.

She was caught in a daze, one hand pressed to her chest as she tried to calm her heart, as the thought of having a baby swarmed her mind.

At least until his teeth bit into her skin, snapping her from her reverie.

“Gavin!” She tried to twist around to pinch him, but he was too fast, laughing as he grabbed hold of her hands.

“Gavin! Bai!” She squirmed, scowling as he only laughed harder.

“Yes, princess?”

She clicked her tongue, looking away.

“Don’t be like that, princess.” He dropped her hands, his voice turning breathy as he held her tighter. “I was just teasing you a little.”

“All you’ve been doing is teasing me!”

“I just love the colour your face turns when I do,” he murmured, kissing the spot behind her ear. “It’s my favourite shade of pink.”

She was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Gavin continued to chuckle, seeming content to drop kisses to her neck and shoulders, seeming to have forgotten entirely about the whole bathing part of a bath.

Finally, she gathered her courage, although her voice wavered as she said his name. “Gavin?”

He paused his gentle ministrations. “What is it, pumpkin?”

“Do you think it worked?” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Like… Do you think we actually made a baby?”

He hummed, stroking the curve of her hip. “Well if we did I’ll take extra good care of you. I’ll help you pick out new clothes, I’ll buy you any food you want, I’ll take extra time off to take care of you.”

A small smile played at her lips, and she reached for his hand, threading their fingers together. She could see it so clearly, how Gavin would dote on her while they child grew. How gentle and loving he would be, how he would run out to purchase every book he could on taking care of his pregnant wife and how to be a parent.

Despite that though, that marvellous daydream that warmed her like sunshine, there was a dull, hollow ache in her heart that stained the edges of that shimmering image conjured in her mind.

“You’re so hopeful.” She ran her fingers over the curves of his knuckles, gently pressed her thumbs into his palm, massaging it as she tried to find the right words. “You’re so hopeful this worked. But what if it didn’t? What if I’m not pregnant?”

“Oh, my love.” He drew his hands away to turn her around, his eyes searching hers. “Do you want to have a baby?”

She nodded furiously, her throat tight. “I do, I do want to have a baby with you.”

He cupped her face, stroking her cheek gently. “Then if it doesn’t work this time, we’ll just try again.”

“You mean it?” Hope flared, bright as a newborn star.

Gavin chuckled, bringing his face close, their brows bumping together. “Of course I mean it. Did you think I was joking about going on that vacation?”

“Well…” She trailed off, pointedly staring at not him. “I might have thought you were joking a little. A heat-of-the-moment type thing.”

“I wasn’t,” he murmured, kissing her nose. “If there’s no baby this time, we’ll just try again. Here if you want, or we can go somewhere else if you want, too. We can take a vacation and try…” He trailed off, his smile impish.

Rowan supposed his teasing smile was to be expected. He was suggesting they take a holiday to have sex. Even if the sex did have a purpose.

“You could relax, and we could do some other things too.” His smile softened again. “We could spend time together without worrying about work.”

“That would be nice,” she admitted. “I would like that.”

“Okay,” his voice was hushed, soft as feather-down as he pressed his lips to the space between her brows. “Why don’t we take a look? We can go wherever you want.”

She ducked her head, smiling. She curled her hands against his chest, leaning against him. “You won’t be upset if there’s no baby this time?”

“How could I?” He rubbed her back, leaning his head against hers. “We can always try again. And no matter how long it takes, I’m sure it will be worth it.”

Warmth bubbled in her chest, growing brighter with every stroke of his hand along her back. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. I can’t think of anything more precious than our baby.” He paused, nuzzling his face against her neck, kissing her endlessly until she giggled. “Except of course you, my wonderful wife.”

Rowan batted him away, snorting as she tried to regain her composure. But it melted away again when she looked up and met his eyes. They were soft, their golden depths reminding her of sun-warmed honey, of sweet things, of spring sunshine.

“Don’t forget yourself,” she said, taking his hands and pressing her lips to his fingers. “You’re most precious to me. There wouldn’t be a beautiful baby without you.”

Colour stained his cheeks and he dropped his head, eyes squeezing shut as he sighed.

“Do you want me to say it again?” She splashed him, giggling as he opened his eyes once more, smirking at her. “That I love you? That you’re my most precious person?”

His smile was still tender, still sweet. “And if I do?”

“Then I’ll tell you as many times as you want to hear it.” She cupped his face this time, bringing it close to hers. “I love you, Gavin. You are so precious to me, so beloved. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

She kissed his lips, just once, hoping the chasteness of the touch drove him as mad as all his innocent little kisses drove her to insanity. “There’s no one else in this entire world I want to have a baby with aside from you.”

He chuckled, covering her hands with his. She could have sworn there was silver limning his eyes, but he closed them before she could tell for certain. And when he opened them again they were blazing gold, twin stars lighting up her world.

“I love you.”

She smiled. “Say it again?”

He kissed her this time, tongue swiping across the seam of her lips, slipping into her mouth to find hers. “I love you.”

They could have stayed tangled like that forever, but there was the pressing issue of the near-boiling water slowly beginning to cool once more. They embraced until their skin was red as boiled lobsters, and then Gavin gently turned her back around, reaching for the soap.

“Before anything else, we should get you bathed.” He shook out the shower gel onto a new cloth, dunking it in the water before taking her arm and gliding it across her skin. “Baby or no, you’ll need your rest today.”

“Promise to stay with me today?”

She felt his smile against the back of her neck. “I called in for today. There’s only paperwork for me anyways, and that can wait a day.”

They chatted for a while, and Rowan began to doze in his arms as he washed away the sweat from the night before. She could hear the warm tenor of his laughter in the back of her mind, his murmurs as he told her he was going to rinse her hair next, could she lean back please?

“Come on, my sleeping beauty.” There was a note of teasing in his voice, but she was so comfortable, so happy to be in his arms that she just nestled closer.

Cool air brushed against her, chills racing down her skin as water fell away from her like she was the cliff of a waterfall.

Gavin continued to murmur quietly, helping her to dry off, to get changed into something comfy. And then he was carrying her down the stairs, settling her on the couch and tucking blankets around her before disappearing to grab the takeout that had been delivered.

And all the while she smiled, glowing with starlight as she daydreamed of mornings with him just like this, nights just like the one before. Days spent together in bliss. And then perhaps one day their mornings and nights would change. But still they would find sweet, blissful moments. Except maybe they would be changed too, and they would be sharing them with a little red-cheeked baby. A baby with his eyes and her laugh.

She held her arms out to him as he returned, and Gavin let himself be folded into her embrace, his head cradled against her chest. Rowan told him about her dream as she ran her fingers through his hair, telling him of the little baby they could share. And as she spoke she watched as his smile bloomed across his face, watched as his eyes glazed, as he imagined it too. Imagined days where their little family would grow, and all their happiness that would grow with it.

[gingerbreadmonsters]

cu-wip-osity tag game <3

i'm not apologising for the pun. thank you to the gorgeous @pinksparkl for the tag - your wips all sound absolutely WONDERFUL!! i do hope mine don't disappoint - some of these have been burning in google docs hell for, uh, some time... they're vaguely in order of how recently i looked at them, but it's not exactly perfect lol

rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. let others ask questions about the ones that interest them, and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

easy pickings - the follow-up to resist and elongate. vega and warden being their usual, nauseously-adorable, violently-murderous selves while tying the (metaphorical and literal) knot.

solution euphoria - my beloved companion cube au! i read LAB RAT and i was never the same again. what if vindemiator had stayed to help attack the imperial palace?

kiss the ring - imagine if the solaire house had, like, a jewellery shop underneath it. now imagine vincent and lovely wandering around in there and flirting a bit. it's good isn't it

hold 'em - this is the gavin bondage fic i mentioned the other day! there's a chair, there's some rope, you know the drill. i have a note at the beginning that just says "glasses???", but there's nothing in the actual text that matches with that, so i guess he's wearing glasses of some sort...? idk i'll figure it out

slip of the tongue - ngl this is basically my gavin appreciation document, it's kind of just non-stop kissing for a few thousand words. there's a thin pretense of plot but that's really all it is

captive audience - vega and warden domestic bliss: the fic. this is basically a short side story for easy pickings (above), because i wanted to write this particular scene but it doesn't quite fit. they have breakfast, it's cute, until you remember what they like to eat for breakfast and then it's decidedly less cute and more horrifying.

extracurriculum - i think zo put me up to this? lovely and vincent having some alone time in one of the empty stairwells at DAMN. it's exactly what it sounds like.

thicker than water - ooh i have not looked at this for a WHILE! this is much more violent than i normally go in for, but it's basically vincent and alexis beating each other into the floor for a few thousand words. i guess i was having an off day?

rose and cherry red - believe it or not, i haven't TOTALLY abandoned to the egress! - this is part of that series! it's essentially just sam waxing poetic about his life for a bit, i guess. unfortunately, i'm not great at writing sam and i'm not particularly into him, so it's taking literally forever lmao

hometown hero - i'm sure you're all familiar with @sri-rachaa's wonderful southern siblings au, where sam is lovely's older brother, and this is basically an offshoot of that. oh, family left behind.

out of my head - i think alexis deserves to be olivia newton-john every once in a while. also i was listening to the song and i thought she would like it, so here we are.

technicolour - gavin nolastnamegiven meets 'if i only had a brain' from the wizard of oz. i like to think that he doesn't think he's good enough, and then that thought makes me sad, so this exists to remind me that he IS good enough.

no-pressure tags: @zozo-01 @autisticempathydaemon @romirola @lovelylonerliterature @haradasaya @bicyclepainting 💕💕💕💕💕💕

[cheffe-cool]

Does anyone ever think about Elinors last day alive?

After the fight for the mirror, she would know by the sky that some champion had died, but only after meeting up with Finley would she find out it was Carbrey.

Their relationship is so interesting, (at least on Elinors part) because she knows he must die, but is protective of him in a way that is more than just allies, as being cousins she’d have known him since he was a baby. I wonder if she wanted it to be him and her in the end so that she could kill him herslef, and try to make it as painless as possible, or if she was hoping Finley would do it for her.

Regardless, she would no doubt be enraged upon finding out that not only was he dead but that it was BRIONY who had slain him.

Whom Elinor personally disliked, and who had CLAIMED she wanted all of the champions to live, only to go on to kill the 15 year old herself. No doubt Elinor would realize as well, that his death was largely her own fault, for lying to the boys to pit them on Bri.

In the second book, it is mentioned, while coming to pair the Hammer with the Monastery that a table had been flung into a wall. Finley was certainly angry too, as he believed Briony to have betrayed them, but he hardly seems the type to throw a table in anger. Elinor seems the obvious candidate.

So she returns to The Monastery, after learning the girl she hates has killed her young cousin, probably spends much of the night seething and unable to sleep. In the morning, Finley is led away by the compass rose. We don’t know if he told Elinor if he was leaving or not. If he DID Elinor would probably have demanded to come along to enact her revenge, but he makes her stay.

So she wait in the monastery probably checking on all the champions through the mirror- when she would at some point, likely see a band of three champions coming to kill her. Maybe she would check Finleys location only to see that he’s joined with Briony and has left her alone in the landmark. What can she do besides try to wait them out? Besides change the wards of course, as she knows Gavin can break the old ones.

So she waits, alone and angry in a huge empty monastery, until Isobel lights it up. She’s fumigated out (after a long time, the book notes) to where she will not an hour later- die one of the most brutal deaths in the series.

I don’t really have that much to say about the whole ordeal other than that every character in this duology is horribly sad. Like bro.

[daydreamerbunny]

𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

last updated on 5/10/2023

PLEASE NOTE: these is purely fiction and does not represent the idols or any other real person in anyway.

Do NOT take my writings as your own.

Key:

s = smut

a = angst

f = fluff

ＫＰＯＰ♥

ＢＴ�� ♥

Jeon Jungkook

⇢ last (afab reader, s, f and a) One last time.

⇢ one year (afab reader, a) Jungkook comes to apologize and he realizes you are with someone.

⇢ royal engagement (afab princess!reader, s)  You’re a princess to a small kingdom and the neighboring large kingdom just lost their king, making your childhood fling now crowned.  Your family makes a trip to express condolences and plans on maintaining the tight alliance your kingdoms have.

Min Yoongi

⇢ one year (afab reader, a) Jungkook comes to apologize and he realizes you are with someone. 

ＭＯＮＳＴＡ Ｘ ♥

Im Changkyun

⇢ {unknown hiatus} rose gold series, involving other Monsta X members (afab named reader, s, f, and a) Being engaged to a charming prince suddenly makes you the most desirable woman in the castle. Part 1, part 2, and part 3. 

⇢ i’ll wait (afab reader, s)  Your professor overhears some girls teasing you and decides to make you feel better.

ＳＨＩＮＥＥ ♥

Lee Taemin

⇢ bitten & smitten (afab reader, s) Your village is raided by the vampire prince and he decides that you are his. 

ＯＴＨＥＲ ＦＡＮＤＯＭＳ ♥

α v α t α r ♥

Jake Sully

⇢  Rumor Has It (afab human reader, s) You have a thing for Jake's avatar and Jake finds that out and decides to indulge you on it.

⇢ Pretty Girl (afab human reader, s) Jake and reader fuck without her oxygen mask.

⇢Silly Girl (afab omatikaya reader, s) imagine tying up Jake in attempts to spice it up in your sex life and it does not go in your favor.

⇢ Bunny (afab human reader, s) Jake fucks you on Easter.

⇢ Jake hisses at reader (afab human reader, a and f) Requested

Neteyam Sully

⇢ Always (afab Na'vi reader, a) Neteyam loses you and reflects back on the happy moments.

s t r α n g є r t h í n g s ♥

Henry Creel

⇢Latrodectus mactans (afab reader, s) Henry and you were both orderly. He was 001 and you were 002. Henry takes advantage of the crush you have on him to help him with his plan to escape the lab. He's willing to break a few of his own rules to make sure you were his.

ＳＴＡＲ ＷＡＲＳ ♥

Kylo Ren

⇢ His Rock (afab reader, f)

⇢ Restless ( afab reader,  f)

⇢ I Don’t Blame You ( afab reader,  a)

⇢ Baby Steps ( afab reader, f and a)

ＤＥＴＲＩＯＴ ＢＥＣＯＭＥ ＨＵＭＡＮ ♥

Markus

⇢ hope (afab reader, f) Markus and reader support each other in Jericho.

Connor

⇢ on the couch (afab reader, s) Connor is needy and needs a quickie.

⇢ nurse (afab reader mentions of sports bra but otherwise gender neutral, f) Connor takes care of you while sick.

⇢ hot coffee (afab reader, f and implied s)

⇢ rushed emotions (afab OC, f) Connor needs Noelle’s help to help Markus.

⇢ into you (AO3 link) (afab reader, s) It’s the DPD’s Christmas party and Connor decides to make a move.

Gavin

⇢ big softie (amab reader, f)  reader is hurt on the job and Gavin is worried sick.

ＴＨＥ ＨＯＢＢＩＴ ／ ＴＨＥ ＬＯＲＤ ＯＦ ＴＨＥ ＲＩＮＧＳ ♥

Thranduil

⇢the scent of spring (afab reader, f) 

⇢ ada (afab reader, f)

⇢ pale beauty (afab OC, mild s)